"Tell The Truth Through Whichever Veil Comes to Hand..."

I’m not much of a discerner. First off, I don’t honestly know how to discern (despite my best efforts and trying to buddy up with the Holy Spirit), but also because I tend to be an over-thinker in most things and so when I feel moved to just implusively do something, I kind of just do it. In my experience, when I do something impulsively, it has always, always worked out for me. I think the Holy Spirit knows this (of course He knows this) so, I find when I start to have the desire to know or do something, He puts it everywhere for me and makes me REALLY want to do it.

So it was with veiling. People often ask me why I do it, and I do wish that I was one of those really lovely, holy Catholic women who could say “I had it on my heart and so I prayed on it for a few weeks and I felt a deep calling to do it, discerned that it was a calling from God and not from my own pride and I went along with the call.” (I will admit that I wish I said this because I just really like freaking people out with all the Catholic jargon I know.)  No, with veiling, I heard about it somewhere, read a website or two and I promptly went to the only Catholic store in town at the time—owned by a SSPX parishioner-- and bought a chapel cap. The next time I went to Mass, I pinned it to my hair and never looked back. I actually got quite a few compliments on it- mainly from older ladies in the parish- and so I felt less weird about switching to a full on mantilla when I was given one that belonged to Hubbs’ grandma. I won’t go in to all the stuff about whether it’s required still but no one observes it or no longer required but we should do it. I do it. It’s not not allowed, so I do it.

In my parish, there are only about 5 women who veil that I have seen and they are all under the age of 30. All but one is married. My parish is the most traditional in town (aside from the SSPX one, of course) but it’s by no means stodgy; both of our priests have been priests for fewer than 5 years and we have an elementary school attached to our parish. There are a lot of older people, but there are also a ton of kids. I never felt as if anyone gave me weird looks or scoffed at me or anything like that.

I have heard people say that they don’t want to veil because they feel like they will call attention to themselves because they will be the only one. I have heard people say that being the only one will make them prideful. I understand both of these inclinations. I know, for me, that it has made me less prideful, actually. For me, veiling is a reminder of my submission. This may be surprising to exactly none of you, but I’m sort of rebellious and incorrigible. Wearing the veil, which, to the person I was before I came back to the Church, would have seemed really backwards and patriarchal (“what do you mean I should cover my hair? I will cover my hair when men have to cover their hair!”), is a sign that I am submissive to the Church that Jesus founded on Earth- to the teachings and traditions she gave us by His authority. It’s an outward sign, not to everyone around me but to ME that I said yes to this life; that I chose, against all the “rational” thoughts of a former me, to be authentically feminine, to think of myself as a daughter of God. Standing out in front of people when I would rather have disappeared in some back row is breaking down my pride. It says “yes, I know I look a little silly, but I am a Catholic and this is how I show it.” Because, let’s be honest: without the veil, I could be going to work. Priests wear collars, nuns and brothers wear habits- I wear a veil when I’m at Mass. There are benefits, too. My mantilla blocks my peripheral vision so I can’t see when people dress inappropriately, or read the bulletin through the entire Mass, which allows me to be more focused on what’s going on and less judgmental.

So, if you are thinking of veiling (and you have discerned if that’s how you do things) here are my practical tips for veiling:

Wear what’s comfortable to you.

You can wear any kind of head covering that makes you happy- from a hat to a wide headband to a full-on veil. Since I live in a colder climate, I don’t go for the hat because it would feel more disrespectful to me to leave it on, since I am in the habit of always taking them off when I get inside. However, there is a lady at my parish (who must be either British or Southern) who wears SPECTACULAR vintage style hats and dress suits. She looks great. That would make me prideful, personally, since I’d be trying to match my awesome hat to my awesome outfit.

  

Start slow!

If you feel a little hesitant at first, that’s okay- try something small like a chapel cap or even just try it out at daily Mass. If you feel really weird after wearing it a few times, maybe it’s not for you.

Remember it’s not required

 If it’s not for you, then no big deal. We all have ways of expressing our devotion. I have never been able to stand a scapular.

Be prepared for questions

Someone somewhere will ask. Even if your answer is as simple as "I just feel like it's a really beautiful tradition" have an answer.

Still interested? Here is a website that I like Mantilla With Me

Modesty: Unveiled

I drafted this post some time ago and posted it finally in order to contribute to a topic prompt by the Bright Maidens. I highly recommend reading them if you have any interest in what it's like to be young, female and Catholic!

Disclaimer #1: I hate the word “modesty.” I feel like it only applies to women and has no real basis in reality with respect to what one can actually find in stores. I am not one to advocate the wearing of floor-length prairie skirts and turtle-necks. Mainly because I really think they are a fashion faux-pas and if that makes me a materialistic secular person, so be it. That being said, I am going to use the word modesty for- literally- lack of a better word. I am using it to mean…basically… um…. Not slutty. I guess? Semantics tick me off.

There has been a bit of buzz lately about modesty in the Church.  There are two forms of modesty rules that women are to follow. One is sometimes referred to the Fatima rule, which was codified by the Cardinal Vicar of Pope Pius XII in 1956. Distilled, the rules are: no shirts cut lower than two finger widths below the hollow of the neck, sleeves to the elbow, skirts below the knee. I’ll add for good measure: head covered in the sanctuary. Many women do not follow this rule, because, come on. Why would you? But some still feel compelled to, and, power to them I guess.

The other one is the more modern rule, which is shoulders covered, thighs covered, cleavage covered. This is the rule that you will run into if you ever go visit any great Cathedral in Europe. At the Vatican, they have these paper towel type things that they hand to women in spaghetti straps to act as makeshift pashminas for all those American tourists in their Miley Cyrus tank tops. Don’t even get me started about Americans dressing like this in Europe in general, regardless of trying to get into a Catholic Church.

I find that modesty is a complicated thing that you can’t ever quite pin down, and it varies based on who you speak to. I look at it akin to the veiling of Muslim women: some Americans (or Westerners) look at it as oppressive, sexist and backwards. Some Muslim women look at it as an equalizer, something that frees them from being judged on their bodies or looks. In the Catholic modesty debate, I tend to fall into the equalizer camp, though it’s not really that cut and dry.

Disclaimer #2: one of my favorite and least Christian pastimes is to look at (and, admittedly judge,) people’s clothing in Church. To be fair, I do it everywhere anyway. I literally balk each week at the things people wear to Mass, and, more importantly, the things people allow their children to wear to Mass. Since I felt compelled to start veiling at Mass, I find this has started to lessen quite a bit, mainly because I know I am in the minority and I am getting stared at as well. I also think the veil helps me to be more pious and remember why I am at Mass in the first place. Added bonus that it still smells like the chrism from my confirmation.

Okay, so here’s a list of things I really, really dislike seeing at mass: teenagers in flash-dance inspired off-the-shoulder sweatshirts with their bra straps showing; flip flops; teenage or young men in basketball shorts or anything that resembles workout clothing; anyone in holy pants/shirts/tennis shoes (just ‘cause they’re holy doesn’t mean you can wear them to church ba-dum-ching!); women in mini skirts; women in leggings with tops that don’t cover their butts; kids in things that resemble Halloween costumes; anything you would conceivably sleep in (i.e. pajama pants, flannel shorts and oversized t-shirts, frequently splashed with the name of some “fun-run” you participated in); and last but not least teenagers in mini skirts, cheerleading hoodies from their high school *and* flip flops (minus 10,000 points if this outfit is being worn in January, February or any month in which the temperature does not regularly soar over 50 degrees). I’m not super concerned with your shoulders being covered (necessarily, I feel like sleeveless tops are modest and fine), or your knees showing, or your hair being exposed.

The Amish. Keepin' it modest since 1693

 “But, Miss Holier-Than Thou Catholic,” you may say “why should we be concerned with modesty in the first place?” Short answer: respect. Respect for you and for the the fact that you are at church. I don’t buy that oft-repeated crap about how women should be modest so that we don’t incite lust in the menfolk at church. That’s a load of BS, if my scoop neck top is lower than 2 finger-widths than the hollow of my neck and you glimpse my sternum and get yourself in a tizzy and think an impure thought and can’t receive communion that’s your problem. Because really, where are we to draw the line? Thanks to pornography people have access to all kinds of pervy things that make them aware of fetishes and the sight of an earlobe or feet could make someone get all hot and bothered, and neither I nor the Vatican is calling for a Catholic burqa. I really, truly feel that modesty is at least 90% in your mind and in your character. We’ve all known women who could cover from head to toe and somehow come across as well… skanky. And we all know women (and I hope I am one of them) that can wear tank tops and shorts above their knee and still look modest. I think most women fall into the modest camp. There are some that think women shouldn’t wear pants to church, which doesn’t make a darn bit of sense to me because pants actually cover things up, and as long as you can’t read the date on a dime in someone’s pocket, I see no reason why a woman can’t wear them. I happen to wear dresses to church (as well as a mantilla, as I mentioned) but that is me, and it’s not required nor would I want anyone to do it if they didn’t feel called to (or at the very least prayed about it beforehand). I also frequently wear skirts and dresses as street clothes and so it’s really just more my style than anything else. I wear lower cut tops because I feel like since I don’t have cleavage, I’m golden. I think the motivation for being modest should come from within, and the closer I get to my faith the more modest I become unconsciously. I hate being told what I can and can’t wear. The owner of my company is LDS (Mormon) and we actually have a “modesty” rule in our dress code, which is almost word-for-word the modesty rule they teach their daughters. Even though I wasn’t ever planning on wearing short shorts and tube tops to work, the fact that that rule is in there ticks me off (again, it doesn’t really apply to the male employees) and makes me want to push the boundaries. I guess that’s a rebellious part of my nature that no amount of incense and Magisterium documents can squelch. That being said, I think the rule to anything should be “appropriateness.” It is appropriate to wear a bikini to the pool or beach, it is not appropriate to wear a bikini to mow the lawn. It is appropriate to dress as if you are attending church, it is not appropriate to attend church dressed as if you are attending a sleepover. See? Modesty issues solved.

Back to the respect thing and modesty outside of Mass, though, I think Blessed John Paul the Great (That title is just so fun!) said something along the lines of (my paraphrase here) “you should dress in a way that incites a man to LOVE you, not to lust after you.” If women really want to be treated as equals in society today, I think we need to give more thought to how we’re dressing and what it says about us. Just as I dislike the whole “dress modestly so as not to lead your brothers-in-Christ to sin” thing, I equally dislike the whole “I’m a woman and I can dress however I want because this isn’t the Middle Ages” thing. Because, really, aren’t they two sides of the same coin? No matter how much you may think that wearing shorty shorts and a halter top is for YOU and not for men, it’s really for men, isn’t it? Whether you are trying to attract them or not. Because if you were straight up honest with yourself (and you’re anything like me) you would go everywhere in yoga pants and a long sleeved t-shirt, right? Because that’s way more comfy than shorty shorts and a halter top. But women these days are taught, nay, brainwashed to do everything for men, even in this post sexual revolution society (case in point: look at the cover of any “women’s” magazine…the entire thing is about men and how to please them). You’re either dressing modestly for men, or you’re dressing immodestly for/to spite them. So here’s my advice: dress modestly, but do it for YOU. Dress modestly because you care enough about yourself to do so; because you respect yourself enough to know that what matters is the brain in your head and not the skin on your thighs. And think modestly, too, because if you think modestly, in the long run, it really won’t matter what you wear.