A thought occurred to me the other day. If papal audiences require women to wear a chapel veil, all the more should the Blessed Sacrament demand this small gesture of recognition. I know it’s hard, ladies. Yes, I’ve had the mischievous teenager tug at my veil from behind for a laugh or two. No one likes to stick out.
But when I forget my veil sometimes, I can’t help but feeling bald. I guess this is what Paul meant when he said “For if a woman be not covered, let her be shorn. But if it be a shame to a woman to be shorn or made bald, let her cover her head” (1 Corinthians 11:6). Now you ain’t gonna tell me you prefer a shaved head to a veil! Well, some feminists might. So their problem is solved - what about yours?
St. Louis-Marie de Montfort,
Pope St. Pius X,
St. Joseph,
St. Ambrose of Milan,
St. Thomas Aquinas,
St. Francis (and St. Clare),
St. Catherine of Siena,
St. Alphonsus Ligouri,
St. John Chrysostom,
On being revolutionary - I think it’s so much fun to see veils at the Novus Ordo! I think “There’s another traditionalist! Maybe I should go over and say ‘hello’?” Or, another perk is that I get the following reaction, “Oh, I think veils are so pretty. I used to wear them and still keep them in a drawer at home.” In the latter instance, I know I’m gently educating women that it’s OK to wear the veil. No condemning.
Just because some women condemn others doesn’t mean the basic point is wrong.
I hope this doesn’t smack of being too aware of inessentials. But then again, God is in the details! How bland modernism is.
I am greatly appreciative of the discussion over this. In response to Peregrinator, clothes are important. They do indeed reflect the inner person. Whenever we meet someone, anyone, the impression we make upon them is in large part determined by our clothing. . . and I am not talking about the expense of our clothing. What we choose to put on each and every day reflects our opinion of ourselves and our opinion of the place or circumstance for which we are dressing. When we go to work we dress for work. When we go out on socially, we dress for that occasion. Likewise, when we prepare go to Mass, we should dress with that specific purpose in mind. We are going into the Lord’s house. The Real Presence of the Lord is there in the Tabernacle. We are going to Mass to worship God. We are going to Mass to receive Jesus — body, blood, soul and divinity — upon our tongues. If that is not worth a special effort being exercised in dress and behavior, then we should each one look in our hearts and determine why we can’t bend our pride as well as our knee to the King of Kings.
One last comment, as women, we do need to be aware of our effect on men. In particular, I am thinking of what a priest must have to fight against when he has scantily dressed women of all ages sitting right in front of him and parading around with no thought about his vows of chastity. We are our brother’s keeper and owe it to priests to dress modestly whenever we are around them either at Mass or at outside social functions.
NB: this is an edited version of comments that appeared earlier from an anonymous poster which I, a site administrator, have edited to make less inflammatory. If anyone would like to see the original comments, please send the administrators an email
Not wanting to “stick out as a revolutionary”? I’m sure Jesus and Mary understand that line of thought completely.. NOT!
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I don’t care how many times you’ve read JPII’s Theology of the Body. Or how many Christopher West conferences you’ve attended. Your body is for your husband to enjoy … not the rest of us. No man alive (unless he’s a homosexual pervert) is going to look over an attractive women and not risk committing a sin, if only venial.
The veil within Church reminds the men that you are a daughter of Mary and that they need to keep their minds on the Mass on not on you.
Before our society became neo-pagan and sexualized, a woman’s hair was considered one of her most exquisite qualities.
I don’t know one lady who wears the veil in a Novus Ordo venue that does not feel a little humiliating. It’s not easy. I can’t imagine anyone thinking themselves holier than thou..
Dear Anonymous, I am very sorry that your comment was removed earlier. That was certainly not my doing.
About what you had written, I was going to say, though it’s somewhat off topic, that we’ve had a friend who was refused Communion here in Ithaca for kneeling. It was a man, no veil involved, but it was definitely an awkward situation for him, as I recall.
I removed anonymous’ comments. This discussion has, it seems to me, been good and helpful as it stands and, while it’s nice to imagine that further discussion would occur after anonymous’ brief comments, I expect that it would not. His comments on veiling directly have been restored, but where he brought other matters in I have edited them back. If anonymous feels strongly that the portions removed were essential to the content of his comments, I would encourage him to repost them.
To Mary’s Daughter: I think that you’re certainly right to take care for our priests and those living with the vow of chastity, but really, such consideration applies at all times in public, whether we are vowed religious or not. Everyone is supposedly to live chastely according to one’s state in life and since that means for all of us the necessity of keeping guard over our eyes, immodest dress will be a near occasion of sin, whether a priest is present or somebody’s younger brother.
ambrosius,
I have a great deal of respect and admiration for your blog. Getting my comments deleted from time to time is a fair price for such a worthy and informative opportunity you present for all of us.
As traditional Catholics we shouldn’t believe in the libertine right to post anything we want whenever we want to!
iosephus, strangely enough when my wife and I made are way back to the pew, after being called “show offs”, the priest apologized from the pulpit saying something like this: “I want to apoligize to that young couple who I humiliated. I was wrong and I’m sorry.” What amazing grace! After Mass, he came over to us and apologized again. We knelt down and asked for his blessing. I have no idea what became of him, but perhaps this was a moment of grace that has worked wonders within him!
anon
Anon, that’s great to hear. I imagine that took no little humility to kneel down and ask for his blessing, after that incident.
I suppose those of us at Cornell should learn from you and your wife and ask the chaplain here every and now then for his blessing.
We would have had occasion in the past, but it never even occurred to me.
Actually, I felt terribly sorry for him. I never really felt any animosity during the whole experience. First it was humiliation,, then deep pity for the man.
Now, my in-laws had an experience where the priest publicly chastised them while they were kneeling. He ordered the ushers to escort them from the church. And as they were leaving the priest continued to tell the congregation how my in-laws were reactionaries, not true Catholics, etc.. My dear mother-in-law is in tears being taken out of church.
Of course the good bishop did absolutely nothing about it…
That’s incredible.
Which diocese was this?
Grand Rapids, Michigan
My kneeling experience was at South Padre Island!
May I ask a question?
Where in the current Code of Canon Law is veiling discussed?
(I am not challenging the veracity of a statement made here, I am just asking for a citation.)
I am somewhat older than I gather you all are, but still grew up post-VCII, and am only gradually coming to realize how much we have been misinformed and misled about the Church and what she asks of us. (I am thinking particularly of the laws of Friday abstinence, the norms regarding the use of Gregorian chant, etc.)
I thank God always for the blessing of the internet which has allowed so many of us access to primary sources on this, rather than forcing us to rely on what our parish’s DRE or our diocesan liturgist tells us is so ;-)
Anonymous,
I’m afraid that veiling simply goes unmentioned in the current Code — like many old disciplines, it has not been abolished but simply ignored. I would be curious to know what a canon lawyer would say about it.
Though this thread has perhaps somewhat died, I did want to commend the anonymous poster for being so cheerful about being censored. That shows some character, I think.
That said, I do have to disagree with your assessment that “no one” would ever become self-righteous about wearing a veil. Quite the contrary, it is *exactly* the sort of thing that can potentially lead to self-rightous and prideful feelings. As many have observed, it can make you stand out, look like you’re protesting, and potentially it can leave you feeling a bit awkward. Old ladies and other traditionalists may be pleased by the practice, but I know from some people I have talked to that many Novus Catholics find it strange and even threatening. That awkward feeling that comes from this realization naturally leads to some reflection: why am I voluntarily sticking out? And you answer yourself: because this is a pious practice that others are too ignorant/prideful/corrupted to imitate. In other words, your feeling of slight discomfort comes from the fact that you’re being more pious than everybody else. Next thing you know you’re feeling like you’re a better Catholic than anybody else in the congregation just because you have a little piece of lace on your hair.
Isn’t this more or less a perfect recipe for self-righteousness? If the practice were required by canon law you could do it out of obedience (not that that would necessarily neutralize the issue I raise above) but as it is you have to own that you are *choosing* to upstage others with your flamboyant piety.
Now, once again, I like the custom of veiling, and for those who can do it without falling into the sort of thinking I have described, then bravo for you! Mater Marci’s formula seems excellent for those who can manage it. But if you like wearing the veil and realize that you are not strong enough to do it humbly in a Novus Mass, I think the best thing is not to veil in a Novus Mass. That can be a personal humiliation, too, because it reminds me how weak I really am, to be unable to veil in the right spirit.
As for offending God this way, I’m not very worried about it. Man looketh on the outward appearance, and God on the heart; clothing is not irrelevant to putting one’s soul in order, but we have to be honest with ourselves about the effects it can have.
Clara,
Your own arguments contradict themselves.
You say that the veil *can* lead some to pridefulness, but you defend this by stating
“it is *exactly* the sort of thing that can potentially lead to self-righteous and prideful feelings. As many have observed, it can make you stand out, look like you’re protesting, and potentially it can leave you feeling a bit awkward.”
Well jeez. How many people feel a great rush of pride being made to standout and feel awkward?
When you are among a group of NO folks who hold had during the Our Father, do you hold their hands too?
Do you walk around the church gushing with hugs and kisses during the Sign of Peace, because you don’t want to be misinterpreted as cold?
Do you receive Our Lord standing on your feet?
Do you stand during the Consecration in order to not stand out?
How many things have you convinced yourself not to do in order fit in? You need to find a good *traditional* spiritual director and distinguish true sins of pride from sins of timidity and cowardice.
Call the FSSP HQ in Elmhurst PA if you can’t find any priests in your area or you don’t know any personally to call. Talk to Fr. Neal Nichols at Elmhurst.
Aviod even a *conservative* NO priest. They are adequate confessors if that’s all you have,, but don’t get serious spiritual direction from anyone other than a traditional priest.
Friend,
I thank you, quite sincerely and without sarcasm, for your concern for my spiritual well-being. Actually, I did my catechesis at an FSSP parish and I go to Mass there as often as I can, so I already have a connection. In virtue of that I can appreciate that your advice is good, or would be if I were not yet familiar with the FSSP.
However, I do not think my arguments contradict themselves. Awkwardness is not *itself* equivalent to pride. But can a sense of standing out lead a person to begin feeling special and then prideful? Yes, yes, yes! There are a thousand examples! Homosexuals turn a sense of being outcasts into “Gay pride”; African Americans combat racism with the slogan that “Black is beautiful”; the Jews have always held most tightly to their customs and belief that they are the Chosen People in places where anti-Semitism is the most severe. I don’t mean to suggest that all of these examples are morally equivalent; for my present purposes I pass no judgment on them. I merely propose that one of the most common strategies for coping with the uncomfortable feeling that “I am different” is to persuade oneself that “I am special” and then usually that “I am better.”
Does this mean that we should conform at all costs in order to avoid prideful feelings? Of course not. There are innumerable judgment calls to make. Some things are important enough that you simply have to do them and pray to be delivered from prideful feelings. Receiving the Blessed Sacrament on my knees, for example, is important enough to me that I will do it regardless of the local custom. And some people, I gather, are stronger than I am and don’t have this problem with veiling. Good for them! But for people like me, I suggest that it is better to come to Mass unveiled than to sit in Mass contemplating how superior you are to your unveiled neighbors.
It is worth noting that this same perplexing problem arises with reference to all sorts of pious practices. Great acts of piety can lead people to see themselves as spiritual athletes, an image that is not at all conducive to genuine worship. An FSSP priest of our aquaintance likes to recommend small acts of obedience as opposed to, for example, week-long fasts, because he recognizes this evil tendency. It is a complicated problem, and I am not certain that his strategy is *always* the right one. But it is something that should be kept in mind — especially, I will venture to say, by traditionalists.
In general I appreciate your line of thought regarding pride (although I don’t think it applies to wearing the veil).
For instance, last Lent, an FSSP priest said in a sermon that we should at least slightly indulge in whatever good thing we gave up for Lent (i.e. Chocolate) on Sundays of Lent, so as not to be prideful that we went 40 days straight. I can understand that.
But if you look at the examples you gave they don’t hold up.
Comparing pious traditional practices and devotions to Gay Pride, Black Pride, or whatever else is kinda crass and irreverent.
The super vast majority of traditionalists I’ve met lament the fact that they are forced to stand out. Do you think the Bishops of SSPX love having to prod Rome along the path back to tradition? Do you think the FSSP priests feel pride being the only cleric wearing a cassock at a diocesan meeting? Or when they do not concelebrate for their bishop?
Sadness, Anger, Pity,, I can see all of those things,, but Pride?
It would be like a well-respected man feeling prideful after going home for the holiday to find his brothers and sisters had become drug dealers, prostitutes, and thieves.
Actually, it seems to me that pious practices are potentially the *most* dangerous of all pathways to pride. Who does Our Lord most regularly chastise in the Gospels? The Pharisees, who are “whited sepulchres”; their appearance and public practices are visibly pious but in their hearts they are overcome by pride. Piety is a very dangerous thing, and always has the tendency to turn to evil, which is why we must, first of all, foster community with others of the faith (and with the saints!) who can help to remind us of our faults, and secondly, pray constantly for the spirit of humility so that our devotions may be pleasing to God.
Do priests feel pride when they wear cassocks alone in a gathering of sweater-vested priests? I am not qualified to judge them, but I’m sure the temptation is always there. Is the SSPX guilty of pride when they, as you put it, “prod Rome along the path back to tradition?” I believe that the danger to the SSPX in this regard is very great, and the fact that they have gone into/remained in schism is to me a sign that they do indeed lack humility such as was shown by, for example, St. Francis and his followers, who, when they were denied an order by the (probably quite corrupt) Vatican, went away rejoicing that God had allowed them to make a genuinely difficult sacrifice for the faith.
It is a sign of our fallen state, I believe, that the noblest aspects of our nature are, if anything, the most severely threatened by that most pernicious of sins. But, that being the case, I think we should try to be charitable and allow for some flexibility regarding things that are not foundational aspects of the faith. Veiling seems to be one of those things.
Clara,
(Not sure if you’re still monitoring this string of postings..)
I was surprised when I discussed this topic with me wife last night to hear her support you position. She is no slouch when it comes to standing up for tradition in the face of opposition and human respect.
Perhaps *spiritual pride* is something that is better understood by women than men?
Perhaps men are more sensitive to the baser sins and women more attuned (and more corruptable) through the higher sins, such as spiritual pride?
You could be on to something with your distinction between men and women here; in any case I do think that women are much more aware of the sort of petty feelings of superiority that tend to arise among women. Perhaps your wife has heard (as I have) traditionalist ladies expressing contempt for Catholic women who do not veil. It’s always made me uncomfortable.
But in any case, thank you; I appreciate your sticking with this intersting conversation, and I good for you for listening so seriously to your wife!
Thus far, I have abstained (but not in a satanic way) from this conversation because as Clara knows so well, I think it’s being conducted at the wrong level; Iacobus and I would be talking about pants, not veils.
Yet after reading the last few comments, something of a solution to the problem of spiritual pride with regard to the veil occurred to me.
(I should also say that I am sympathetic to Clara’s concern; I don’t think it’s an issue of men vs. women, but one which arises in the case of those who really know that they are right, as often happens to yours truly. The fact is, when we walk into a Novus parish, we know that we know, with great certainty, more about the Faith, more about veils, more about the history of the Church, than anyone in there, perhaps including the priest. So I’m guilty of this pride as well, and I don’t even have to put on a veil to feel it.)
So here’s the solution I see: take the veil on obedience. Either in obedience to one’s husband (if one has one) or from one’s confessor/director. Then, one can count on the graces of acting in virtue of obedience to counteract the negative influence of the temptation to pride. Then, as soon as a prideful thought enters one’s head, say: “Well, there is no helping it. I’ve been told to do this, so they can think of me what they will, indeed, I can think of myself what I will, but I must wear it.”
How many occasions do lay people have of exercising the virtue of obedience? I don’t think that it’s a bad idea, with the approval and direction of a confessor, to invent some, especially if it will set a good example for other souls thinking of wearing the veil, but who are yet tentative.
St. Philip Neri would, on occasion, give his penitents strange penances, such as ringing a bell like a madmen through the streets, carrying a large, mangy dog through the streets, standing in the midst of a wedding and chanting the Miserere, etc. All of these things were meant to be humiliating, and I imagine that they were. But could they not also have been sources of pride? Here my confessor has told me to do this extraordinary; I may an extraordinary sinner or, perhaps, I am extraordinarily favored to have such a confessor, such a penance, etc; he couldn’t give the usual to me, he had to give something special.
Well, think what they would, they had to follow St. Philip’s direction. They were bound to obey, come what temptations would. So I imagine a similar thing here: get someone to command you and leave the rest in God’s hands.
An excellent suggestion, Iosephus; the only trouble is that nobody *has* commanded me to veil and I’m not sure it would have the same effect if I were to *ask* for such an order.
I have sometimes reflected that, if I were to one day have a daughter (or more than one) the problem might be solved for both of us. Because, of course, setting a good example for her would be much more important than worrying about what other random people thought; if she grew up seeing her mother veil for Mass then it would just seem natural to her and she wouldn’t have this problem. And in concentrating on that objective, I might also be able to move past the pride problem. But of course, if I ever have any daughters, I hope to be able to raise them in a parish where veiling is not such a rarity.
I have read with interest all of the postings concerning this chapel veil debate, because I am a recent “wearer”, of only a few months time. I began to wear a veil when my daughters informed me that it is a canon law which never was revoked. So I wear it out of obedience to Holy Mother Church, though it sure doesn’t “feel” right/comfortable, and despite the fact that I am struggling to understand the present day value of doing so, based on biblical significance and anything I can learn from reading what others say about it.
Veiling the head seems to me like one of those practices that belong to the style of “church in the past”, like old-fashioned art work on old holy cards, when so many cultural mores were different, but I digress.
I attend a Novus Ordo Mass, and I am one of only a handful of women there who wear veils (my daughters live out of state). I have to say that it makes me feel very humiliated , (I have been offering up that humiliation and it’s one thing that has helped me to persevere in my obedience)because I am at Mass with many personal friends and even extended family members who, I am quite confident, do not understand why I have suddenly begun this practice and must therefore look upon it as a very strange practice, indeed.
I would like to address two lines of thought which the reading of these posts has brought to my mind. One is the issue of why veiling vs. not veiling for Mass is an issue at all, and the second is the question of it being looked at as an occasion of the sin of pride.
I feel strongly that it makes no sense to veil our heads for one rite of the Mass and not for another; if it is the right thing to do, it is the right thing to do - period. The real issue is that most people do not know why they should, and therefore they do not. A whole other debate could begin on whether or not this is their fault. I won’t go deeply, there, except to say that I grew up and matured to the age of 55 without knowing that it was canon law, and I would like to think that it was the role of at least one of the many priests I have known to point that out to me at one time or another, but it never happened, though I have even known several of them as family friends.
I am beginning to think that if I do not make an effort to explain to my associates why I wear the veil, then I probably should not wear it, because in an attempt to honor God, I am instead, in a certain way, scandalizing my brothers and sisters in the Lord by wearing it. (Ironically, because of the cultural context in which we live, my wearing a chapel veil is probably a much greater distraction to the prayers and attentiveness of other people at Mass than are women in pants, girls in low-cut blouses, or any number of other unfortunate “failings in gentility” that are commonly seen at Mass these days.) In fact, a search for justification of the practice is what brought me to this blog.
As regards the question of pride. I believe the devil uses the accusation of “holier than thou” against good Christians all the time. As fallen human beings, feeling a little bit good about ourselves and doing what is right are inextricably connected. I like to think that if a bit of “holy pride” keeps us on the right track, it is not such a terrible thing as the evil one would like us to believe. I compare it to the positive feelings a parent emotes when they say, “I’m proud of you” about some good thing their child has done. Surely that isn’t a bad thing, for our wanting to be proud of them and their wanting to please us are the inducements to their growing in goodness. In the same way, as adults, if our doing something to please God makes us feel a little bit “proud” of being His good children, I don’t see that as so bad, but rather as an incentive to keep on being good.
Roseanne,
These are interesting thoughts, thank you! Your point about pride is interesting. It’s surely true that we have trouble getting motivated to do anything good without having *some* positive thoughts or feelings as a result. And no, the attitude you describe doesn’t sound very pernicious to me.
But I think we should distinguish two different ways of feeling proud of oneself. The first is similar to what children express when they are pleased with something they’ve done and want their parents to see. As you point out, we are childen of God, and so it’s probably appropriate to have those same sorts of feelings towards him. To be saying mentally, “Look, God! See, see, see?! I was a good girl today!” is not necessarily bad. It shows a somewhat shallow impatience for approval, but also a desire to please God, and on balance that might be all right. (I’m not patronizing you, by the way… I have those moods myself quite often.) At its core, pride is the desire to put oneself above God. So if God is the one you really want to impress, you’re probably fairly safe.
What worries me, though, is something rather different: glorying in how much more pious one is than one’s fellow Catholics. Here the good feeling comes not from pleasing God, but from beating out others. I don’t think any real piety or devotion can be found in *that* sort of sentiment — in fact, thoughts like these (”Lord, I thank thee that I am not like these other lowly and degraded men!”) come in for the harshest of criticisms by Jesus in the Gospels. And yes, I do think there is danger of falling into that sort of pride when veiling at the Novus Mass. But if you don’t have that problem, then good for you, and I applaud your willingness to endure humiliation for Christ.
A couple more thoughts about this: mater marci, in one of your posts, you asked, “My question is why do women disdain the veil so much? In the time before Vatican II — EVEN EPISCOPALIANS veiled! The veil is a seemingly trivial but in reality important casuality of modernity.”
I have been pondering this question and sentiment, and it seems to me that women may disdain the veil for a very simple reason -because it is an item of womens’ attire that is not, nor has been “in style” for a very long period of time. If veils (not particularly chapel veils) were ever to become a “fashion item,” I feel certain that with an ounce of understanding about why we should wear them (i.e. reverence, Canon Law, obedience, scriptural significance, etc.) and a bit of encouragement to do so, most women would wear chapel veils with no qualms whatsoever. Everyone knows that women dress primarily for other women, and wearing a veil in our day and age is so radically different from how other women “dress” that naturally, there is discomfort associated with wearing it.
Wasn’t this “fashion principle” what originally made popular even amongst Christian women(against natural modesty), the wearing of clothing that is less than modest, such as pants, short skirts, bathing suits, etc.? That, as well as 1.)a lack of understanding as to how men and women react to visual stimuli and 2.)an ignorance about our duty to keep our fellow man from an occasion of sin. Sad to say, but without the Church’s and our mothers’ constant admonitions that ‘Yes, God really does care how we dress!,’ and explanations as to the reasons why He cares, most women are going to grow up thinking more about dressing the same as (gaining the approval of) other women.