In November, Dean Leander Harding offered an essay on Covenant that mentioned women and the practice of veiling. Delighted that this topic was brought up, I would like to deepen, or perhaps redirect, the discussion.
Fr. Harding’s thoughts on the Holy Family and its dwindling presence in churches and American culture are both theologically insightful and practically accurate. I agree that this diminishment is directly proportionate to a populace that is lost and confused about the importance and place of the family and the vocation of fatherhood and motherhood—both literal and spiritual. However, there is another aspect of the conversation that needs to be drawn into relief.
With regards to the practice of veiling, first and foremost, it is a spiritual practice that should be discerned between a woman and God. Since we no longer live in a society in which veiling in church is common, the decision to don a veil at Mass becomes a more distinct and personal decision rather than just following what is customary. There are several great reasons, beyond custom, that a woman may feel the desire, the need, or even the calling to veil.
Veiling is a physical act, much like kneeling to pray, confess sins, or receive the Eucharist. It can bring into our hearts and minds a certain attitude or comportment toward God and an attentiveness to what we come to church to do. Veiling can be a wonderful, tangible reminder that the veiled person is in a place set apart, a place different from normal day to day experiences, and a time different from the linear time in which we typically function. The physical weight (though minimal) of a head covering can be a sensory distinguisher that draws the whole body and spirit into contemplation and presence of a sacred space.
Veiling can have many purposes. It is a helpful way to acknowledge and respond to the sacredness of being in the presence of the Eucharist reserved at the altar. Much like the priest puts on special vestments to stand before the altar, veiling can be an outward manifestation of a spiritual reality. In a similar vein, a veil can function as a prayer shawl, reminiscent of the old Jewish tradition of men and sometimes women wearing a tallit during prayer.
Recalling traditional images of the crucifixion with Mary by Jesus’ side, a veil can also participate in the spiritual veil of Jesus’ wounds under which he draws us and with which he protects us.. Elizabeth Black and Emily Sparks write in their Chapel Veil: The Symbol of the Spouse of Christ:
Woman, because she was created by being drawn from man’s side, is constantly trying to return to him. She desires the original unity of one flesh and one bone. The desire for unity between man and woman is a mirror of the relationship between Christ and the soul. A woman longs for union with man in human relationships; she is also drawn to unity with God. He calls her to become one with Him: to come under His side and become flesh of His flesh and bone of His bone. This occurs during reception of the Eucharist. The covering of the head with a veil symbolizes the reality of woman sheltered in the side of her Source and becoming one with Him. She becomes covered and hidden in her Divine Spouse. (15)
Veiling can also be an indication of the sacred nature of the woman’s unique capacity in God’s creational order to bear life and have a direct hand in the work of creation with God. We veil things that are sacred: for example, the veil over a vessel holding the consecrated host or the veil over the tabernacle, or the humeral veil. There is also some Old Testament typology worth considering here: Moses wore a veil when he had seen God and his face shone. Life is sacred. And the womb of women has been redeemed and blessed through bearing Christ to the world. Veiling can be an acknowledgment of that truth as we come before the altar of God.
I appreciate Fr. Harding’s recollections and his sense as he grew up: “All women, including single women, carried the veil of Mary out of the church and into the world, and their consecration was recognized by the world of men.” This is a beautiful example of how the practice of veiling at Mass, in church, or in prayer is not just a singular event but a participation in a greater truth of the special role women have in creation (whether they bear children from their womb or not). It is also a pertinent reminder that regardless of whether a woman decides to veil, the “veil of Mary,” as Fr. Harding puts it, still covers them.
Mary’s calling to bear Christ into the world and to be a spiritual mother of all Christians—having been born from her fiat through Jesus’ salvific work on the cross—is the prototype for all Christian women. Women are called to bear Jesus into the world and to care for their families and churches in a unique way that is only given to women, even if this will look different in each woman’s life.
Women need not be the same as men, and we aren’t. We were made distinct, and it is good that women are not, nor ever have been, inferior. Adam was not complete without Eve. The creation of humanity did not receive God’s divine declaration “very good” until Eve was a part of it.
So to women, I say: Consider the veil as a crown of your inheritance and reception of your sacred part of creation. Let it lead you to greater understanding of your unique position in the cosmos and let it humble you before your Creator in awe and worship. Let it be your fiat to the call to bear Jesus to the world and to discover who your Heavenly Father created you to be. As St. Catherine Siena says, “Be who God meant you to be, and you will set the world on fire.”
To the church, I say: When you see women veil, let it draw you deeper into worship of God as it reminds you of the sacred space you are in and let it also be a reminder of women’s importance in the church and in our faith as a visible reminder of the “Veil of Mary.”
Alethea Kemp is raising five children with her husband, the Rev. Matthew Kemp, in Centralia Illinois.
