Why I Wear a Veil

A lovely friend of mine recently wrote to ask why I veil for Mass and Adoration.  This is what I told her.  I hope it might help you, too, if you are discerning adding a veil to your devotional practices.

My family thinks I'm "a little out there," a la "The Church Lady."  No one else in my extended family veils and at the time that I first started wearing one, I didn't know ANYone else who did, either.  But, I had seen other women in church veiling and wondered about it....

Then, the Church revised the wording of the Mass with Advent 2011.  I prayed a *LOT* about whether or not to veil, then felt a pull toward, "new Church year; new devotion to help me focus."  At the time, my youngest was only seven months old and the rest of our family's pew was filled with all six impatient, squirming children, with me at one end and my husband far away at the other.  It was nigh on *impossible* for me to focus on Mass.  At.  All.  Much less for an entire hour.

As a result, I was increasingly impatient, annoyed, self-pitying, and resentful that I couldn't manage one measly hour a week before the Lord!  Ugh!  Then, I saw veils.  And I noticed that, in a gentle sort of way, they were like blinkers or blinders on a horse.

I grew up around horses.  Horses' eyes are set far on opposite sides of their heads as one of their methods of self defense -- they have almost a 360 degree view of everything around them.  Consequently, they see (and react!) to EVERYTHING.

Along came blinders.  You've seen them -- the Budweiser Clydesdales and Amish buggy horses wear square ones on their bridles and Thoroughbred race horses wear spherical ones on a hood on their face.  The blinders narrow the horse's frame of vision so he focuses ONLY on what's ahead of him.

Ahhhhhhhh.  As in every moment of my life as a stay-at-home, homeschooling mom, I was surrounded on all sides by a miniature Barbarian Hoard.  Almost.  All sides but one.  What was in front of me in church?  The tabernacle -- literally, because we sit up front for the benefit of our eldest son (which really winds up benefiting us all!).

Wearing a veil became my literal and figurative blinders.  In many instances, it literally obscures my peripheral vision.  In all instances, it is a lightweight, tangible reminder of where I am, Who is present, and what I am there to do.

Worship.  Him.

It's that simple.

Worship.  Him.

My veil becomes my blinders.  My prayer tent.  My spiritual security blanket.  My smack on the head to pay attention.  My reminder that I am on holy ground, in the presence of Almighty God, a humble creature before her Creator.

It does not make me MORE humble or more reverent or more special than anyone else there.  If anything, while a veil *IS* special (because it's only for a woman in the Real Presence), it reminds me that I'm NOT the most special.  I am the least before Him.  It is such a wonderful, freeing, comforting train of thought, almost like being a child again and obliviously having my late father lovingly take care of.... everything.

The same kids were still squirming.  The same distractions were all still there, whether in my head or all around me.  And the same God was still present in the same way in the same tabernacle where He always was.  But, now I had a tangible touchstone to remind me.

It was like the time I confessed to a priest about being distracted too often during the rosary.

"Do you come back to it?" he asked.

I frowned.  "Of course."

He smiled.  "Then, that is an even greater grace.  To be pulled away, whether by the devil or by honest distractions, and to CHOOSE to return to it can be an even greater grace."

My veil reminds me to keep coming back, despite the distractions.

Today, I feel naked and amiss if I enter a Catholic church without my veil.  So, I keep it in my purse (with an extra for anyone else!  I've given away three since I started veiling!).  It's kind of like "appropriate dress and comportment" for me.  I wouldn't wear stilettos to the barn, nor pajamas to my boss's dinner party.  I wouldn't chew gum in a job interview, but I would make sure I brushed my teeth.  My veil just feels... right, in every way, in the Real Presence of Our Lord.

And that, in the immortal words of Paul Harvey, is the rest of the story!

:-D

That also, my dear friend, is probably waaaaay more than you really wanted to know!  I scrolled back through this and was going to delete it, but decided to be honest and send it "as is."

Wearing a veil is simple and complex, all at the same time.  I hope this is helpful to you in discerning your own devotions!  The video entitled "The Chapel Veil" by "True Faith TV" on YouTube also is well-done.

Thank you!  Please be assured of my prayers! ❤️

High Five for Mass

At our church, when the offertory gifts are brought up, the deacon receives them at the foot of the steps to the altar.   Usually, he raises both hands similar to an orans posture, but with his palms facing the family, and invokes God's blessing upon the family who brought up the gifts.  He then accepts the gifts and passes them on to an altar server.

But, last week was different.

When our (rather short in stature) deacon raised his hands to bless the family, the little girl at the front of the group -- she couldn't have been more than six years old -- broke into a grin, jumped up in the air, and enthusiastically slapped the deacon a high five.

God bless the deacon, he just smiled and kept praying.

Wow.

Awesome!

I'd never seen that.  A child who was SO utterly excited to be participating in Mass that she simply burst with joy and high five'd the minister of God at the altar.

Superb!

Thankfully, my first and most humbling thought was, "Wow.  Shouldn't we all be THAT thrilled to be here!?"

I take the faith formation of my children very, very seriously.  So, it sometimes is equally distressing to me to see an ostensibly Catholic child be oblivious of how to participate correctly in his or her faith, especially the Mass.

But, last week was different.

Last week, this exuberant kid taught me that sometimes you bend rules and leap for joy because... because... because God loves you!  And because you're here.  And because He lets you approach His altar with your humble gifts, often enough just the gift of your lil' ole self.

Wow.

Awesome!

Shouldn't we all be THAT excited to be there!?

On the Mass

The Eucharist and the Mass are the source and summit of our Catholic Christian faith.  Unwavering belief in the authenticity of the Eucharist as the actual Body and Blood of Christ (not a mere symbol) was absolute from the very origin of Christianity.

"Then He took the bread, said the blessing, broke it, and gave it to them, saying, 'This is my body, which will be given for you; do this in memory of me.' " (Luke 22:19)

Hoc est corpus meum.

This IS my body.

Do this in memory of me.

So.  It's Lent.  And here's a nice Lenten habit for you: try to get to Mass at least one other time during the week besides Sunday.  Really.  You can do it!  Even if you can't do it every week, continue to try.

Why?

Here's why, courtesy of Dom Gregory Dix* in 1945, and I quote:

Do this in memory of Me.

Was ever another command so obeyed?

For century after century, spreading slowly to every continent and country and among every race on earth, this action has been done, in every conceivable human circumstance, for every conceivable human need from infancy and before it to extreme old age and after it, from the pinnacles of earthly greatness to the refuge of fugitives in the caves and dens of the earth.  Men have found no better thing than this to do

for kings at their crowning and for criminals going to the scaffold;

for armies in triumph or for a bride and bridegroom in a little country church;

for the proclamation of a dogma or for a good crop of wheat;

for the wisdom of the Parliament of a mighty nation or for a sick old woman afraid to die;

for a schoolboy sitting an examination or for Columbus setting out to discover America;

for the famine of whole provinces or for the soul of a dead lover;

in thankfulness because my father did not die of pneumonia;

for a village headman much tempted to return to fetich because the yams had failed;

because the Turk was at the gates of Vienna;

for the repentance of Margaret;

for the settlement of a strike;

for a son for a barren woman;

for Captain so-and-so, wounded and prisoner of war;

while the lions roared in the nearby amphitheater; on the beach at Dunkirk;

while the hiss of scythes in the thick June grass came faintly through the windows of the church;

tremulously, by an old monk on the fiftieth anniversary of his vows;

furtively, by an exiled bishop who had hewn timber all day in a prison camp near Murmansk;

gorgeously, for the canonisation of St. Joan of Arc --–

One could fill many pages with the reasons why men have done this, and not tell a hundredth part of them.  And best of all, week by week and month by month, on a hundred thousand successive Sundays, faithfully, unfailingly, across all the parishes of Christendom, the pastors have done this just to make the plebs sancta Dei – the holy common people of God.

To those who know a little of Christian history, probably the most moving of all the reflections it brings is not the thought of the great events and the well-remembered saints, but of those innumerable millions of entirely obscure faithful men and women, every one with his or her own individual hopes and fears and joys and sorrows and loves – and sins and temptations and prayers – once every whit as vivid and alive as mine are now.  They have left no slightest trace in this world, not even a name, but have passed to God utterly forgotten by men.

Yet each of them once believed and prayed as I believe and pray, and found it hard and grew slack and sinned and repented and fell again.  Each of them worshipped at the Eucharist, and found their thoughts wandering and tried again, and felt heavy and unresponsive and yet knew – just as really and pathetically as I do, these things.

[End of Dom Gregory's passage.  We now return you back to my comparatively exceedingly lame blog post.]

That's why.  

Try to get to Mass.  Go on Sunday, of course.  But, TRY to get to Mass just one other time during the week this Lent.  Or perhaps Eucharistic Adoration.  Even if you just pop in for 10 mintues!  He's there.

Waiting.

Patiently.

Waiting for YOU!

Why?

Because.

Don't you remember Who made you?

God made you.

Why did God make you?

God made you to know, love, and serve Him in this world and to be happy with Him forever in Heaven.

How can you possibly get to know Him, soften your heart to love Him, and learn how you are to serve Him if you don't even VISIT Him?  Jesus is waiting patiently for YOU in all the tabernacles of the world.  Through the miracle of the Eucharist, the person really truly present -- Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity -- is Jesus Christ Himself.

'Tis Himself!

For YOU!

Go see Him.  Glimpse Heaven on Earth.  Get to church.  Go!  Run!  Your creator awaits you, filled with love.  For you!

May your Lenten practices and sacrifices bring you abundant blessings!

_______________________________

*  Dix, Dom Gregory, OSB. "Throughout All Ages, World Without End." The Shape of the Liturgy. Westminster: Dacre, 1945. 744. Print. 
 

The Mass and Homeschooling

Here's a quick, encouraging, spiritual shot in the arm to inspire both our attendance at Mass and our vocation as homeschool families!

http://www.setonmagazine.com/latest-articles/mass-homeschooling-the-homily-for-seton-homeschool-graduation-2015

Thank you, Father Seamus O'Kielty!

Fortnight for Freedom

Once again, the Archdiocese of Baltimore is sponsoring the "Fortnight for Freedom" from June 21st to July 4th!  As Archbishop Lori stated in his homily during his Installation Mass:

“We defend religious liberty because we are lovers of every human person, seeing in the face of every man and woman also the face of Christ, who loved us to the very end of his earthly life and who still calls on us to love and serve our neighbor with the same love he has bestowed on us.  We do this because Archbishop John Carroll’s generation of believers and patriots bequeathed to us a precious legacy that has enabled the Church to worship in freedom, to bear witness to Christ publicly, and to do massive and amazing works of pastoral love, education, and charity in ways that are true to the faith that inspired them in the first place.”

You can visit this page on the archdiocese's website for all the details on the many activities being held, from poster contests to prayer cards to a calendar of events.  Be a part of this important celebration, support, recognize, and practice our Constitutional right to freedom of religion!

Fortnight for Freedom

Once again, the Archdiocese of Baltimore is sponsoring the "Fortnight for Freedom" from June 21st to July 4th!  As Archbishop Lori stated in his homily during his Installation Mass:

“We defend religious liberty because we are lovers of every human person, seeing in the face of every man and woman also the face of Christ, who loved us to the very end of his earthly life and who still calls on us to love and serve our neighbor with the same love he has bestowed on us.  We do this because Archbishop John Carroll’s generation of believers and patriots bequeathed to us a precious legacy that has enabled the Church to worship in freedom, to bear witness to Christ publicly, and to do massive and amazing works of pastoral love, education, and charity in ways that are true to the faith that inspired them in the first place.”

You can visit this page on the archdiocese's website for all the details on the many activities being held, from poster contests to prayer cards to a calendar of events.  Be a part of this important celebration, support, recognize, and practice our Constitutional right to freedom of religion!

More On Veils

I've received several inquiries lately about my relatively recent habit of wearing a veil during Mass and in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament.  I highly recommend wearing a veil, which I believe should be done voluntarily out of love, humility, and reverence for the Eucharistic presence of Jesus (and no, that doesn't mean I think that if you don't veil that you don't love and reverence Our Lord in the Eucharist).

For thought, I offer the words of Dr. Alice Von Hildrebrand:

“… feminists after Vatican II suddenly ‘discovered’ that when women go to Church veiled, it is a sign of their inferiority…My goodness, how they have lost the sense of the supernatural.  Veiling indicates sacredness and it is a special privilege of the woman that she enters church veiled.”

So, in addition to my previous blog posts (cited below), here are a few other links to a few more well-said thoughts on women wearing veils.  If you have any other edifying and spiritually nourishing links you wish to share, please let me know in the comments and I'll be glad to post those, too.

Enjoy!

Blog: "Ave Momma" (Where To Buy A Veil)

http://avemomma.blogspot.com/2012/07/where-to-buy-veil.html


Blog: "Ave Momma" (To Veil Or Not To Veil)

http://avemomma.blogspot.com/2012/03/to-veil-or-not-to-veil.html

Blog:  "A Woman's Place Depends On Her Vocation" (many articles)
http://awomansplaceis.blogspot.com/search?q=veil

Blog: "Catholic Sistas" (A Call To Veil - The Mysterious Unfolds)
http://www.catholicsistas.com/2011/12/15/a-call-to-veil-the-mysterious-unfolds/

Blog: "Catholic Sistas" (Lifting The Veil)
http://www.catholicsistas.com/2012/06/12/lifting-the-veil/

Blog:  "Kankakee TLM"  (Beautiful Women Wear Veils)
http://kankakeelatinmass.altaredesign.com/2011/10/05/beautiful-women-wear-veils/

On Lilliputians at Mass

A friend of mine made me feel much better recently when we mutually commiserated on the challenges of keeping several Lilliputian toddlers in line during Mass.  Here’s a synopsis of her take on it (thank you Kathy T.!):

My kids are a lot of things, but bashful is not one of them.  I would say most mothers of toddlers and pre-schoolers bring their kids up to communion with them, not so much to get a blessing, but because the thought of leaving a band of pirates in the pew is unwise, so mothers have learned to cleverly disguise a half-nelson as a loving embrace, which she doesn't dare let go of till the Ite Misa Est!

I spent most Masses when my kids were that age doing one or more of the following:

1.         Yanking people out from under pews by their legs.

2.         Shushing people who decided to sing Itsy Bitsy Spider to Jesus at the consecration.

3.         Shushing people during Lent who were whisper-shouting that we forgot to sing the Gloria or the Alleluia.

4.         Giving shoes back to ladies in front of us, because people had removed them from her feet while she was kneeling.

5.         Keeping people from undressing in church.

6.         Giving unsatisfactory answers to people who were loudly protesting that poor Jesus was wearing only a towel.

7.         Hanging on tight with a hand over the mouth of a flailing, biting, kicking person, while frightening thoughts of calculating how many seconds it would take to suffocate said person unconscious, yet not kill them, began to take on the distinctive quality of a reasonable solution.

It was also during those years that my Mass attire changed dramatically.  After the heel of my dress-shoe caught in the hem of my skirt when I genuflected (while holding one of the kids) and I launched myself headfirst into the side of the pew, I quit wearing heels and skirts.  Pants and shirts became much more practical for the WWF rumblefest that was Our Family At Mass.

So, I know the “blessing” at communion wasn’t necessary nor even sanctioned, but it did give me hope that I might last another 15 minutes!  Hang in there!

Ooops!

Where to Buy a Veil

Some of you have asked about wearing a veil for Mass and in the Eucharistic presence of Jesus.  A wonderful lady at my parish made mine, but you can find one equally lovely at the following website:

http://www.veilsbylily.com/

And although mine is black (so it blends against my dark hair), the aforementioned website DOES have veils in other colors, like ivory, gold, or champagne (or, as my one friend asked for it, "Dirty Blonde"!).  :-)

Happy shopping, for the love of the Eucharistic presence of Jesus!

....And They Lived Happily Ever After!

Many moons ago, I attended a Visitation academy that subsequently was kept alive by the enormous sacrifices of a lay Board of Trustees, and now has been renewed, both in faith and formation, by the Dominican Sisters of St. Cecilia of Nashville, Tennessee.

But that's a story for another time.

It is relevant to this post, however, because in my senior year, those Dominican Sisters saw to it that daily Mass was offered in the academy's chapel.  Every day.  Every day at 7:30 a.m. (school started at 8:00 a.m.), daily Mass was offered in a chapel built by Visitation nuns and dating from pre-Civil War, a chapel located both physically and spiritually at the heart of the school.

And every day, I was there.

Oh, don't be too impressed.  I'm not naturally an early riser, but I had ulterior motives, that's for sure.  Big ones.  Every day, I silently offered up my Mass with these words, "Please send me a good husband and good children."  That's all.  Just send me Prince Charming and his charming kids, and *voila!* we'd be happy.  I figured that if I had the primary players in my life dedicated to Him, the rest would be gravy.

And you know what?  It worked!

Today, I've been happily married to My Hero for over 20 years.  And, after being told I was infertile and adopting our first child, we now have six children, the rest of whom arrived in our house in the usual way.  (We're Irish Catholics with fiery temperaments.  What can I say?)

But, that's not the only success story formed out of devotions in that chapel.  Many religious vocations were born there, and I was delighted to discover this weekend that my niece also has been deeply inspired to add her own prayer to the millions that have arisen there.

Every day, on behalf of whomever her future spouse might be and for their life together, my niece asks God to, "make me into the woman he needs, make him into the man I need, and make both of us into the parents our children need."

Wow.  Neat!

So if there are any young ladies out there reading this blog, this isn't plagiarism -- feel free to make that prayer your own!

Holy Thursday

Benedict XVI’s Sermon for Holy Thursday Evening

Lord’s Supper Mass

Dear Brothers and Sisters!

Holy Thursday is not only the day of the institution of the Most Holy Eucharist, whose splendour bathes all else and in some ways draws it to itself.  To Holy Thursday also belongs the dark night of the Mount of Olives, to which Jesus goes with his disciples; the solitude and abandonment of Jesus, who in prayer goes forth to encounter the darkness of death; the betrayal of Judas, Jesus’ arrest and his denial by Peter; his indictment before the Sanhedrin and his being handed over to the Gentiles, to Pilate. Let us try at this hour to understand more deeply something of these events, for in them the mystery of our redemption takes place.

Jesus goes forth into the night. Night signifies lack of communication, a situation where people do not see one another. It is a symbol of incomprehension, of the obscuring of truth.  It is the place where evil, which has to hide before the light, can grow. Jesus himself is light and truth, communication, purity and goodness. He enters into the night. Night is ultimately a symbol of death, the definitive loss of fellowship and life. Jesus enters into the night in order to overcome it and to inaugurate the new Day of God in the history of humanity.

On the way, he sang with his disciples Israel’s psalms of liberation and redemption, which evoked the first Passover in Egypt, the night of liberation. Now he goes, as was his custom, to pray in solitude and, as Son, to speak with the Father. But, unusually, he wants to have close to him three disciples: Peter, James and John. These are the three who had experienced his Transfiguration – when the light of God’s glory shone through his human figure – and had seen him standing between the Law and the Prophets, between Moses and Elijah. They had heard him speaking to both of them about his “exodus” to Jerusalem. Jesus’ exodus to Jerusalem – how mysterious are these words! Israel’s exodus from Egypt had been the event of escape and liberation for God’s People. What would be the form taken by the exodus of Jesus, in whom the meaning of that historic drama was to be definitively fulfilled? The disciples were now witnessing the first stage of that exodus – the utter abasement which was nonetheless the essential step of the going forth to the freedom and new life which was the goal of the exodus. The disciples, whom Jesus wanted to have close to him as an element of human support in that hour of extreme distress, quickly fell asleep. Yet they heard some fragments of the words of Jesus’ prayer and they witnessed his way of acting. Both were deeply impressed on their hearts and they transmitted them to Christians for all time. Jesus called God “Abba“. The word means – as they add – “Father”. Yet it is not the usual form of the word “father”, but rather a children’s word – an affectionate name which one would not have dared to use in speaking to God. It is the language of the one who is truly a “child”, the Son of the Father, the one who is conscious of being in communion with God, in deepest union with him.

If we ask ourselves what is most characteristic of the figure of Jesus in the Gospels, we have to say that it is his relationship with God. He is constantly in communion with God. Being with the Father is the core of his personality. Through Christ we know God truly. “No one has ever seen God”, says Saint John. The one “who is close to the Father’s heart … has made him known” (1:18).  Now we know God as he truly is. He is Father, and this in an absolute goodness to which we can entrust ourselves. The evangelist Mark, who has preserved the memories of Saint Peter, relates that Jesus, after calling God “Abba”, went on to say: “Everything is possible for you. You can do all things” (cf. 14:36). The one who is Goodness is at the same time Power; he is all-powerful. Power is goodness and goodness is power. We can learn this trust from Jesus’ prayer on the Mount of Olives.



Before reflecting on the content of Jesus’ petition, we must still consider what the evangelists tell us about Jesus’ posture during his prayer. Matthew and Mark tell us that he “threw himself on the ground” (Mt 26:39; cf. Mk 14:35), thus assuming a posture of complete submission, as is preserved in the Roman liturgy of Good Friday. Luke, on the other hand, tells us that Jesus prayed on his knees. In the Acts of the Apostles, he speaks of the saints praying on their knees: Stephen during his stoning, Peter at the raising of someone who had died, Paul on his way to martyrdom. In this way Luke has sketched a brief history of prayer on one’s knees in the early Church. Christians, in kneeling, enter into Jesus’ prayer on the Mount of Olives.  When menaced by the power of evil, as they kneel, they are upright before the world, while as sons and daughters, they kneel before the Father. Before God’s glory we Christians kneel and acknowledge his divinity; by that posture we also express our confidence that he will prevail.



Jesus struggles with the Father. He struggles with himself. And he struggles for us. He experiences anguish before the power of death. First and foremost this is simply the dread natural to every living creature in the face of death.  In Jesus, however, something more is at work. His gaze peers deeper, into the nights of evil. He sees the filthy flood of all the lies and all the disgrace which he will encounter in that chalice from which he must drink.  His is the dread of one who is completely pure and holy as he sees the entire flood of this world’s evil bursting upon him.  He also sees me, and he prays for me. This moment of Jesus’ mortal anguish is thus an essential part of the process of redemption. Consequently, the Letter to the Hebrews describes the struggle of Jesus on the Mount of Olives as a priestly event. In this prayer of Jesus, pervaded by mortal anguish, the Lord performs the office of a priest: he takes upon himself the sins of humanity, of us all, and he brings us before the Father.



Lastly, we must also pay attention to the content of Jesus’ prayer on the Mount of Olives. Jesus says: “Father, for you all things are possible; remove this cup from me; yet not what I want, but what you want” (Mk 14:36). The natural will of the man Jesus recoils in fear before the enormity of the matter. He asks to be spared. Yet as the Son, he places this human will into the Father’s will: not I, but you. In this way he transformed the stance of Adam, the primordial human sin, and thus heals humanity. The stance of Adam was: not what you, O God, have desired; rather, I myself want to be a god. This pride is the real essence of sin. We think we are free and truly ourselves only if we follow our own will. God appears as the opposite of our freedom. We need to be free of him – so we think – and only then will we be free. This is the fundamental rebellion present throughout history and the fundamental lie which perverts life. [Again, I cannot help but think of his Chrism Mass sermon.] When human beings set themselves against God, they set themselves against the truth of their own being and consequently do not become free, but alienated from themselves. We are free only if we stand in the truth of our being, if we are united to God. Then we become truly “like God” – not by resisting God, eliminating him, or denying him.



In his anguished prayer on the Mount of Olives, Jesus resolved the false opposition between obedience and freedom, and opened the path to freedom. Let us ask the Lord to draw us into this “yes” to God’s will, and in this way to make us truly free.

Amen.

To Veil or Not To Veil?

Ever since the corrected wording of the Mass was restored at Advent last year, the thought of wearing a veil has been in my heart.  But I agree w/ so many -- when you're unaccustomed to seeing it, the wearer can seem ostentatious.  Then I saw a woman (admittedly, older) one day wearing a black veil that was just a whisper, just barely there.  It was a traditional mantilla, shoulder-length, but the black lace was so sheer (almost like organza), with only some dainty lace edging, that my heart leapt and I thought, "Ah-ha!  There is the veil for me!"

I happened upon her in the church parking lot during the week, and explained my admiration.  "Please tell me," I smiled, "where did you get it?"  She smiled back gently.  "I made it."

My heart sank.  Selfishly, my smile faded a bit.  "Oh," I replied weakly, hoping to sound as if I thought that was lovely, but knowing instead that I sounded disappointed.

"I'd be glad to make you one!" she rushed to assure me with a delighted grin.  My hopes rose anew.

"Really!?" I asked.  Then inspiration struck.  "Ooo!  I make rosary bracelets!  I'll make you one!"

So now, we have exchanged sacramentals and I wear the veil at every Mass.

A dear friend, who recently decided to veil, noted that at her son's First Communion, the presiding priest complimented the children on how dressed up they were, and invited them to dress and comport themselves as well every time they received Jesus in the Eucharist, because it was just that special.  My veil helps me remember that importance, and now wearing it seems as natural as genuflecting.  Just as I would not wear my pajamas to Mass, my veil is a visible reminder to me that I am on holy ground, and so should garb myself appropriately.

The Bible calls a woman's hair her glory, and my veil reminds me that I should humble myself in every aspect before the Lord.  Since wearing it, I must also report that at least half a dozen women have approached me cordially to inquire about it and consider it themselves.

I'm not posting this to be a veil-pusher, but just to encourage anyone else who might be considering wearing a veil for Mass and in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament.  Remember, you're not wearing it in submission to any man around you.  You're wearing it in submission to The Son of Man, The Creator Of The Universe.  How humbled we are in the presence of the Lord!

....plus, it's not a burka, for Pete's sake!  ;-D

Keys Ut Regnum (Keys to the Kingdom)

My dog is a social butterfly.  There is little on this earth that makes her happier than when people come to see her, as clearly everyone must be when they arrive at our front door.  When the door opens, she leaps about in joy, delighted that another of her People Friends has made her day by dropping in to say hello.  Her enthusiasm bowls them over, as she covers them in kisses, tail whirling like the blur of helicopter blades.

Thus, the joke around our house is, if it were a burglar at the front door, she would invite them in and offer them the silver.

Despite this, however, my dog otherwise is a pretty smart cookie.  It didn’t take her long, for example, to figure out that the jingle of scooped up car keys meant the imminent solitude of her cage: abandonment.  And in the worst possible form for a dog from the pound.  Having lived in a cage and been abandoned to one, she never exactly has been what you would call an avid fan of crate training.  No matter how cozy we made her little den, my dog never truly resigned herself to the fact that, as the unfortunate possessor of a hamster-sized bladder, she must, for the sake of the carpet,  be relegated to her Cozy Canine Cubby whenever she is left alone in the house.  (And no, the charming moniker did not fool her either.)

So, when my dog hears keys rattle, she knows we are about to leave.  Keys, therefore, mean abandonment.

I was reminded of this last Sunday in church.  My husband and I are the antithesis of most Catholics;  we make a bee-line for the front row, right in front of the tabernacle.  I want to be front-and-center with the Lord, where He can keep an eye on me and I can keep an eye on Him, with minimal distractions.

But last Sunday, this wasn’t to be.

We were running late (no surprise, with six small children and my perpetual vice of tardiness), so we altered our path and entered the church from the rear vestibule, joining other late-comers in surreptitiously slinking into a rear pew, mumbling and fumbling through the last verse of the opening hymn as everyone settled in.

Although it was disconcerting for me to be what felt like a football field’s distance away from the Lord, all went well throughout the Mass -- until we stood for the closing hymn.  As the cantor announced the number in the hymnal, I had to struggle to hear her voice over a different sudden chorus of sound.  A chorus of jingling.

Keys.

Now, I would like to think that I am smarter than my dog.  And so is God.  So, it took only a moment to put two-and-two together for what my dog already knew: people + keys = abandonment.

Not a good position to be in with the Almighty, eh?  And He is a lot smarter than me and my dog.

Barring family crisis or extenuating circumstances, let’s see whose company we keep when we decide to nip out early on the Lord as we leave Mass:

1).        Judas: Hardly a model of good manners, Judas slipped out of the Last Supper before dessert to go finalize plans to abandon the Lord.  Should we collect 30 pieces of silver along with the bulletin, too, then?

2).        The Apostles: The apostles all made hasty retreats into anonymity as the Lord was dragged from Gethsemane.  Blessedly for us, however, all but one later suffered martyrdom for the Faith.

3).        Peter: The Rock of the Church himself abandoned the Lord, denying Him three times.  Not exactly one of Peter’s more shining moments.

4).        Thomas: We do not call someone a “doubting Thomas” for nothing, do we?  Possibly an aspiring lawyer, Thomas demanded cold hard evidence before he would believe that a Man, whom he personally had seen perform numerous physical and spiritual miracles, had performed the ultimate miracle Himself.

Abandoned.  Every single one of them abandoned the Lord.  Yet, all the way up to the Cross, the Lord never abandoned us.

So, why do we keep abandoning Him?

Thankfully, eleven of the twelve apostles were “scared straight,” later spreading the Good News and, for some, even giving their lives for Jesus and His Church.

With such sacrifice in mind, I mean, really, is it that critical we get out of Mass a few minutes early?  Do we all have a dying parent to whose death bed we are rushing?  Do we not have a mere two more minutes to sing, praise, and give thanks to the God from Whom we profess to believe all blessings flow?  Or do we have one eye on our hymnal and the other on Father to see if we can beat him to the door.  As my grandmother used to say, “It’s not a race, you know!”

This is where our Protestant brothers and sisters excel.  They’re still enthusiastically singing several hymns for hours, while we’re busy watching the clock and leaving skid marks out of the church parking lot.  Forget the Sign of Peace – turn on your blinker and get out of my way, pal!

If we’re going to put an egg timer on Mass, then we’re there for the wrong reason.  Stop.  Slow down.  Take a deep breath.  Maybe even stick around for a few minutes and enjoy the soothing silence once the church is almost empty.  Don’t just show up and punch in and out.  Be there.  Be present.  Take time to be with the Lord.  After all, He’s waiting there just for you.

That’s right – the Creator of the known Universe is waiting in the tabernacle just for lil’ ole YOU!  Isn’t that grand!?

“Ugh!”  I can hear you say.  Do I sound like your mother?  Maybe.  Or a grouchy old harpie?  Probably.  But, I’ve got six young babies of my own, so I’ve already had a ton of practice in reminding little people about the importance of our Faith, which I also frequently do not fully appreciate nor utilize.

So please, remember the wisdom of a small dog:  keys mean abandonment.  You’re not fooling anyone, least of all the Lord.

He’s a pretty smart cookie, you know.

P.S. - Please note, sadly, this beloved dog has since passed away.  But, we still have our 130lb., cantankerous, grouchy, clever, perpetually hungry, protective, bear-hunting Akita.  Just in case you had your eyes on the silver.  ;-)

Then he returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. “Could you men not keep watch with me for one hour?” he asked Peter.  “Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the body is weak.”  (Matt. 26:40-41)

Basium Pro Jesu (A Kiss for Jesus)

"Look-look-look!" I whispered fiercely to my toddler as he struggled up on tiptoes on the kneeler to see Father holding up the host during the consecration at Mass today.

"Look!  See?  See that little circle?  That's Jesus!  Father's holding up Jesus!"  And then I whispered in my son's ear, "We love you, Jesus!" and surreptiously blew Jesus a kiss across the church, a gesture my son generously bestows on everyone he loves.  Eagerly, he mimicked me.

Then my little daughter blew the moment right out of the water.  "Mom!" she breathed urgently.  "I have to go potty!"

Young-daughter and toddler-son in tow, we crept quickly to bathroom, where an intercom system enabled us to continue to listen to Mass.  My son froze, eyes wide, fascinated.

"Who dat!?" he gasped.  Then inspiration lit his face.  "Dat Jesus!  We love you, Jesus!" he screeched as he happily blew a kiss to the wind.

Oh, from the proverbial precious mouths of babes!  Thank you, Lord, for this moment of unabashed loving joy!

"You did not give me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet." (Luke 7:45)

On Hand-Holding During the Our Father

Recently, the question was raised among friends about the appropriateness of holding hands during Mass while the congregation prays the Our Father.  Predictably, this potentially polarizing topic quickly stiffened more than a few spines.  Could we disagree on this critical subject, yet still remain friends!?

I have too many diapers and Math tests today to share here anything more in-depth than a quick weigh-in (and lunch and laundry are right around the corner!  Oy!), but here's my take on our discussion:

You see, I believe we only will benefit and increase our erudition in the Catholic Faith by learning the Church's specific intent behind the clearly articulated rubrics of the Mass, via either respectful personal discourse (as with my dear friends) or edifying dissertation.

As the highest form of prayer, the Mass deserves our highest consideration, as do our fellow Catholics who, like us, also seek to praise and worship Almighty God as He deserves.  Let us be truthful yet amiable in our speech, lest we defeat the origin and fruits of our worship by allowing ourselves to degenerate into morally opprobrious conduct amidst each other.

"He gave some as apostles, others as prophets, others as evangelists, others as pastors and teachers, to equip the holy ones for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of faith and knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the extent of the full stature of Christ, so that we may no longer be infants, tossed by waves and swept along by every wind of teaching arising from human trickery, from their cunning in the interests of deceitful scheming.  Rather, speaking the truth in love, we should grow in every way into him who is the head, Christ."  (Ephesians 4:11-15)

(...my underline emphases added...)

So.  That's how we discuss it.  Now how do we practice it?  Having just concluded the Eucharistic Prayers, during which our Lord Himself has been made Real and Truly Present on the altar, do we turn the focus on ourselves and stretch across the aisle kumbaya-fashion to hug, shake hands, fist bump, or engage in other similar gestures?

Um, no.  I'm with Father Z.* on this.  While the Our Father inherently unites us in Faith, the reverential aspect of the Mass demands our highest regard and obeisance.  Personal interpretations of the Mass (other than ethnic/cultural variations approved by the Holy See) by priests or laity, no matter how seemingly insignificant, small, or well-meaning, whether unwitting or deliberate cozenage, are scrofulous and a slippery slope to outright heresy.  And certainly no congregation specifically should be impelled to participate in a way that is not within the rubrics of the Mass.

Far more wise and saintly hearts and minds than mine have weighed in on this oftimes delicate topic, so I encourage you to research it personally, as well.

*  Father John Zuhlsdorf addresses this and many other liturgical questions on his excellent blog, "Father Z's Blog - What Does The Prayer Really Say?"  You can find his entry regarding the above topic at the following link:  http://wdtprs.com/blog/2011/05/quaeritur-our-father-hand-holding-fr-z-rants/