Why I Wear a Chapel Veil and an Unexpected Benefit
This week I’m in the throes of struggling to find time. I always think that I can get more done than is actually feasible, and this inevitably leaves me feeling frustrated when I make it to the end of the week and everything is not checked off the to-do list.
When I sat down to really assess my schedule, though, I realized that this was a busy week. On Monday, I had the pleasure of spending time with the 2nd graders from Manhattan Catholic Schools. I read from my first chapter book and answered questions. School visits are without a doubt my favorite part of my job. There’s nothing like seeing the spark of joy in a child who is excited about reading and the saints (two of my very favorite things!).
The rest of the week included four other atypical appointments (including the recording of a podcast that will be released next month), plus attending Mass at MCS Friday morning. It’s no wonder my blog is getting out a little late this week.
At Mass, I donned my chapel veil, the one I have been wearing for just over a year now. Every time I am in a place with Jesus truly present in the Eucharist (any church with a tabernacle or the 24 hour adoration chapel), I cover my head with a lace veil.
I’m not the only one in my parish, but we are among the vast minority. Today, cannon law doesn’t require women to cover their heads because this tradition was not a matter of faith. Now, veiling at Mass is entirely optional, but a beautiful way to outwardly express your reverence, similar to dressing up modestly. At its core, wearing a chapel veil is a tangible expression of awe and humility before the Eucharist.
Maria at the Shrine of Divine Mercy in Poland.
Several months before the first time I wore my mantilla, I started thinking about wearing one. The thing that initially sparked my attention was the women who wore chapel veils in my parish were the women whom I wanted to be like. I knew some of them personally, and their entire lives bore witness to Christianity. For them, faith wasn’t something practiced for an hour on Sundays. Faith embodied their entire lives.
For months I admired their veils from afar, still unsure if I had the confidence to pull one off. I felt nervous about drawing attention to myself. Yet week after week, I found myself thinking about veiling for Mass.
Thus began the great internet search of 2023. I sought out every article I could find about women wearing mantillas. I read about the history, why the practice stopped, and why women were choosing to veil. I learned how it serves as a physical reminder to focus minds and hearts on the presence of Christ in the Eucharist, fostering a deeper sense of spiritual connection and intimacy with God. In a world filled with distractions, the simple act of covering one's head can create a sacred space for prayer and contemplation.
I was drawn to the fact that veiling is embracing my femininity. Men have never covered their heads (in fact, the cannon law for them was to uncover their heads, hence the tradition of removing hats when entering a church). Some movements in the secular world espouse that women should do everything the same as men. The Church (and I) says thank you, God, that men and women are different yet equal in dignity. I am a beautiful, feminine woman, and wearing a lace veil is part of me overtly embracing that.
I also felt compelled to have a sacred item I only wear for Jesus. I try to always dress up for Mass, but sometimes (particularly weekdays or during very cold weather) my attire is less than glamorous. As I pilgrimed around Poland last month, jeans were typical during Mass. Yet every time I stepped into a church, whether for Mass or simply awe, I wore my veil to remind myself in whose presence I was in.
The reason that finally convinced me to order my first mantilla is that Mary is never seen or depicted without a head covering. This struck me right to the heart. I desire to be like Mary, to follow in her footsteps of faith and helping draw others to Christ. I aim to echo her fiat throughout my life. Choosing to veil ultimately came down to my desire to be like her.
The first time Maria wore a veil to Mass.
I took the plunge and haven’t looked back. I felt a little nervous and self-conscious the first time, but that feeling quickly dissipated. Veiling is automatic for me now. If I do happen to forget my veil, I feel exposed and underdressed, regardless of what clothes I’m wearing. I don’t worry about what anyone else thinks about me because I know the reasons that I wear a mantilla. I seek to please God and detach from the opinions of others.
As the months of veiling went on, I recognized a completely unexpected benefit of wearing a veil at Mass. My veil hangs onto my forehead and around my face, creating a little cove just for me. The veil blocks out distractions in my peripheral vision like horses wearing blinders in a parade. When I sit at Mass and gaze at the altar, I don’t see the movements of those around me like I used to. My vision is limited to what is in front of me. My veil reminds me of what my focus should be on, and helps me keep that focus. An expected gift from a simple mantilla.
If you’re discerning wearing a chapel veil, I encourage you to pray about it and listen to how the Holy Spirit is moving in your heart. There is no list of reasons for or against veiling that can compare with hearing the call from within you. I truly believe that if you have this desire, you should try. You never know what unexpected benefits may appear for you too.
Maria singing at Mass in Wadowice, Poland.
Copyright 2024 Maria Riley
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