Moved.
I wore a veil for the first time in front of the Blessed Sacrament last night. I facilitated with Jen Sarmiento this past weekend on the Confirmation II Retreat. I noticed that she wore a delicate, white veil over her head in the chapel, and I became so curious about why she wore it.
“It’s a sign of reverence. I wear it to show respect whenever I’m in the presence of the Eucharist… I feel naked without it.”
She brought a booklet about Catholic veils, and while I glanced through it, I could not help but be absolutely intrigued as it how Adoration, Mass, or Chapel time could be different when wearing a veil.
Last night, I asked Jen if I could wear one of her veils to Adoration and her eyes almost lit up with my request. She told me about how veils were a lost tradition of the Church— a fiery rebellion among women during the feminist movement, since veils are a symbol of obedience and humility. Jen is the only young woman I know who rocks a veil during Mass, and I admire her for her commitment and evident devotion to Christ. The stigma about veils is that only elderly Filipino ladies wear them, but there’s something beautiful about the youth wearing them.
Jen handed me the soft, white fabric. As I unfolded it and draped the veil over my head, I couldn’t help but feel like I was securing on my helmet for combat— spiritual warfare between God and my burdens.
Walking into the Main Room for Adoration, I could feel the warmth of candlelight and the people in there. Saturday night on retreat is always trying, emotional, and cathartic.
I knelt down as the King was carried into the room and the glimmer of the golden Monstrance reflected all around the room— however, I knew the glow on each person’s face came from the presence of the Holy Eucharist. As I bowed to the Blessed Sacrament and looked down, I saw white lace— a symbol of my humility. Despite its weightlessness, I became very aware of the veil on my head and with folded hands, I stared heavily upon the Blessed Sacrament.
In that instant, I felt beautiful.
I lowered myself and cried. I thought of all the anxiety, pain, and burdens that weighed down on my shoulders, and I could feel myself shaking. Warmth veiled over me and I stopped. I prayed for God to lift the weight off me. I prayed for the humility to lay it down— lay it down and let God help me.
With dewy eyes and the release of purging emotion, I, like the veil on my head, became weightless.
- trina tan
www.flickr.com/trinatan
