Can you talk about your veiling practice if you don't mind? How do you base it around liturgical seasons?
This ask is quite old and for that I apologize, I kind of just let my inbox become chaos for a little while!
It’s important to note that I’m Lutheran and USAmerica. Veiling has never been a super central, important thing in Lutheranism. Back in Ye Olden days, women were expected to cover their heads in church (and sometimes in public). Many Lutheran women continued to cover their hair up through the 1940s, or so, via hats. Veiling itself more or less died out in most parts of the Lutheran world quite a while ago. Veiling does still exist in some Lutheran communities, particularly in Eastern Europe. Curiously, in many areas where veiling is a cultural norm (such as the holy land or Southern Asia) Lutheran women rarely, if ever, veil, even if it is common for other Christians. Few women in veil in America, it only happens on the individual level, and in certain churches it might get you looked at a little funny, but no one is opposed to it. All this is to say, that for me, veiling is detached from the kind of community practice that it is within Catholicism or esp Orthodoxy.
I like to use veiling as a kind of booster tool. I love ritual, but I also believe that ritual is not something we should attach our piety or salvation to, or expect each other to do, because then it p much loses any meaning. I know the original discussion this ask stemmed from included op mentioning that as a catholic, the choice to NOT veil felt empowering and brought God closer. An important part of existing within Christianity as a woman, for me, has been untangling the cultural bullshit we attach to gender, specifically within churches. I cling fiercely to Christs recognition of women as autonomous, and to Galatians 3:28. One year I gave up makeup for lent and it was the most transformative lent I have ever had (I can talk about that too if anyone wants). It has been an important and powerful walk for me to reconcile that I am allowed to show up in church and in life exactly as I was created by God, sans makeup, that my body is not less than or inherently more sexual than a man, than my shoulders or knees are somehow automatically titillating. I think modesty is important but I think it has little to do with how much skin is covered, and more to do with how we are thinking about and holding each other.
All this being said, I don’t veil for modesty— not because I think god wants me covered and not to show submission or deference to men in my congregation. During most of the year, I consider my hair to be my veil, I try to always go to church with my hair down (it’s long), because to me, it’s a small way I can come to God, uncovered, unbound, present, and as I am. It’s a small but meaningful way that I can feel connected and present and whole, instead of worrying about my appearance in church (something we tend to both demand of and critique women for). My uncovered head and my long hair are only separated from the heavens by my church ceiling.
Now, I do actually veil during certain parts of the liturgical year, and sometimes other times when I’m feeling contemplative, because it is an extra level of focus and centering. In modern Judaism, men wear kippahs or yarmulkes, not to separate themselves, but as a physical reminder of God’s presence with them and their submission to God. Veiling in church fills a similar niche for me. I belong to a denomination that follows the traditional liturgical calendar, and I love love love it. Seasons and cyclicality help my life feel grounded in a very ungrounded time and place. I don’t think there is actually anything extra special going on during lent or advent, but I think the act of observing it does do something special. These are the seasons in which I tend to cover my head.
During lent and advent, we are intentionally taking the time to observes ourselves and our God closer. I intentionally cover my hair with something that puts a little bit of weight or tension there, as a reminder. The physical feeling helps me greet the service with intentionality.
I prefer scarves (I find hats to be generally evil). Sometimes I will go for something more traditionally recognizable as an intentional head covering, but often I go for a typical square scarf as it lets me do this practice without falling into the trap of thinking about everyone thinking about what I’m wearing. I either put it on at home or in the parking lot, or, when I’m running late, before I take my seat. Sometimes my hairs up, sometimes down. Citing my thoughts from above, I have been known to paradoxically veil while wearing a tank top or shorts depending on the weather (see: this last Wednesday), because it’s not about the act of physical covering for me. I always take a breath and center myself in my body when I cover my hair, reminding myself that I am here and now, to meet with God. Sometimes I say a longer prayer. I always cross myself after it’s on.
It’s a small but tangible way to feel my faith. I think American Christian’s sometimes struggle to find ways to actually access our faith outside of the intellectual or emotional theaters, but our bodies need it sometimes. Hope this answers your question!
