We practicing Catholics just have to stop judging each other. Often converts, and anyone embarking on a
more devout life, will change their manner of dress to something that
reflects their inner transformation. For women this could mean
renouncing cosmetics, or wearing long skirts, or any number of austerities. Unless they are called to monastic or consecrated life, they will probably not be that way forever. We who have been Catholics for a long time must be patient
with those starting their journey, trying to find their way, going
through transformations. However, I never thought of a head-covering as an idol but apparently it can be to some people. I disagree that wearing a head-covering makes one "holier than the Church." How can following a practice mandated by Scripture and Tradition make one holier than the Church? To quote Emily Stimpson Chapman at Through a Glass Darkly:
There was a time, long ago now, when I never went into a church
without a chapel veil on my head and never left the house without
wearing a skirt or a dress. I was in my early 30s then and, in the
abstract, had good reasons for what I did. The Cliffs Notes version of
those reasons is that I saw the chapel veil as a symbol of humility,
reverence, and tradition. I saw the skirts and dresses as symbols of
femininity, grace, and beauty. I saw both could be outward signs of
inner realities, signaling to the world the importance of reverence and
femininity. And I saw both also could be a sort of sacramental, helping
me become more of what they signified—more humble, reverent, feminine,
graceful, and beautiful.
For years, I wore that chapel veil and
those skirts. They were, in a sense, my personal protest against a
society which denies the sovereignty of God, the divinity of Christ, the
reality of the Eucharist, and the difference between men and women.
But
no longer. The veil came off in 2008. I still wear skirts and dresses,
especially in the summer. But in the colder months, unless I’m dressing
up, you’ll rarely see me wearing anything but jeans. Why?
Simply put—because that chapel veil and those skirts made me a self-righteous ass.
Okay,
that’s a little too simply put. It’s more accurate to say that wearing a
chapel veil and never wearing jeans helped reinforce some of my
besetting sins. They didn’t make me a self-righteous ass. But the devil
did use them to encourage my natural inclination to be one.
But, while more people may drift left of the Church’s
heart, I suspect the devil rejoices a bit more when he convinces someone
to drift right of the Church’s heart. Partly, because once he has done
that, we start doing his work for him, pushing and pulling our fellow
Catholics away from the Church as we waste our energy judging,
confusing, guilting, and shaming one another, instead of proclaiming the
saving truths of the faith we profess. Also, because that drift can be
more subtle, making it harder for us to see. And what we can’t see in
ourselves, we can’t correct in ourselves. We fool ourselves into
believing we’re holier than everyone else and become hardened in our
self-righteousness…like the devil himself. (Read more.)
It never occurred to me that the wearing of dresses and mantillas might be idolatrous because they can make you think you are a better Catholic than those other Catholic ladies with bare-heads and jeans. I
keep reading women saying that a head-coverings might make them think
they are holier than every one. I guess they did not grow up when I did. When I was a small child every female
covered their heads in church, even
non-Catholics when they came to Mass, among them saints and sinners. I recall being extremely naughty in church with a doily on my
head. I remember when one of my aunts was an unmarried expectant mother, wearing a cute headscarf at Mass over her stylish bob. I loved how her scarf and dress matched and wanted the same look. (I was five.) I recollect being at First Friday Mass with my seventh grade class, sitting with a bunch of white-veiled mademoiselles who used language that would make Cheech and Chong blush. I know now, as I knew then, that a piece of lace does not make
you into a saint, or even into a well-behaved person. Therefore a head-covering at Mass does not
automatically signal holiness to me. I have no control over whether it does to others. What I keep seeing now is women
becoming obsessive about head-coverings, and whether or not to wear them,
and when or where. If a sacramental becomes more a focus of one's
thoughts than Jesus, it is time for some detachment. Meanwhile, let us keep in mind that the abuse of a sacramental by individuals does not make the sacramental bad nor take away the blessing from those who use it worthily and in good faith.
Here is a beautiful post which sums up the ancient practice of veiling, found in both Scripture and Tradition. From A Touch of Beauty:
-There are thousands of years of recorded history across cultures especially related to worship, even pagan women veiled
-A
practice in modesty and humility as these virtues are defined by the
Church (not colloquial usage). That is related to your state in life and
focused toward God (rather than man).
-Veiling
is part of the larger liturgical tradition of the Church for 2000+
years. Other things, aside from women, are also veiled during the
liturgy.
-Veiling,
like MANY other things in the Catholic tradition, is more about an
outward sign of a spiritual reality or internal disposition.
-Veiling
also recognizes that men and women are different by supernatural
design, and we have different roles, challenges, and opportunities for
merit.
-Some
contemplative nuns use veils as a way to reduce distractions. They wear
veils to create their own little world where they can pray without
something distracting them from just beyond their field of vision. This
is not as practical for mothers.
And a fun bonus:
-If
you haven’t gotten a chance to do your hair because you just got a
bazillion people ready for church, a hat or scarf or something is a life
saver. (Read more.)
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