Traditionally after the Vespers of Passion Sunday all statues, images, etc. are veiled in the church (except the stations). This pious custom has also made its way into people's homes where they, too, veil their sacred images. This is one of my favorite parts leading to Holy Week because our once vibrant sanctuaries now look dim and somber. There are no longer sacred images to remind us of the lives of Our Lord, His Mother, and the saints.
While this is one of my favorite customs, it is not always one of my favorite chores. As I prepared to veil the sacred images this year I had the same recurring thoughts. These included "will this be the year I die falling from a ladder?" and "how long will it take to iron out the wrinkles in these veils?" and "where did I put the veils?" It was then that I discovered that the veils I use were in bad shape and I needed to sew more. As I sat down to this seemingly tedious task the previous negative thoughts continued in my head.
Yet as I sewed my thoughts started to turn to spiritual things. I thought about how lucky I am to belong to a tradition with such beautiful customs. My thoughts also went to how this task can't compare to the agony Our Lord and His Holy Mother endured during these weeks. Finally, I thought how fortunate I was to be able to complete this task and bring more solemnity to my little sanctuary. What started as a tedious task became a spiritual discipline, and I was joyful when I finished.
I mention this to encourage any readers to veil their sacred images during these times. This custom may have fallen away in modern churches, but it really is a meaningful one (even if it can seem tedious). Just as we "dress up" our liturgical observances during important feasts and parish celebrations, it is also important for us to celebrate in a somber way during those times of grief. This action shows those who see the sanctuary that we are preparing for a time where Our Lord will experience death on the cross. It also helps us re-live the experience of the Apostles who went from Our Lord's physical presence to seeking him in prayer and through the Holy Eucharist.
There are so many beautiful customs which have developed during this sacred time--from processions to emphasis on the stations to veiling images to burying the alleluia--each one has risen from sincere devotion. We are so very lucky to have such a rich liturgical calendar and meaningful customs to support us on our journey. So as we begin Passiontide, I hope that it is a meaningful time for you.
"The presentiment of that awful hour leads the afflicted mother to veil the image of her Jesus: the gross is hidden from the eyes of the faithful. The statues of the saints, too, are covered; for it is but just that, if the glory of the Master be eclipsed, the servant should not appear. The interpreters of the liturgy tell us that this ceremony of veiling the crucifix during Passiontide, expresses the humiliation to which our Savior subjected Himself, of hiding Himself when the Jews threatened to stone Him, as is related in the Gospel of Passion Sunday. The Church begins this solemn rite with the Vespers of the Saturday before Passion Sunday. Thus it is that, in those years when the feast of our Lady's Annunciation falls in Passion-week, the statue of Mary, the Mother of God, remains veiled, even on that very day when the Archangel greets her as being full of grace, and blessed among women." - From "The Mystery of Passiontide and Holy Week" in Dom Gueranger's "The Liturgical Year."
Images: My own chapel.
