Veiling in the New Translation

Image courtesy of NLM

Last week I made the point that, while the new translation is not bringing any changes to the rubrics, it may bring changes in the degree to which the rubrics are followed, for the simple reason that more of the rubrics will be printed in the Roman Missal than are currently in many Sacramentaries.  Since the Missal is the very text from which the priests reads, having the rubrics printed therein can serve as a powerful reminder and encouragement.  For the Fifth Sunday of Lent, we find a prime example of this.  In the new translation of the Roman Missal, just before the texts for the Sunday Mass begin, we find the following directive:

“In the Dioceses of the United States, the practice of covering crosses and images throughout the church from this Sunday may be observed. Crosses remain covered until the end of the Celebration of the Lord’s Passion on Good Friday, but images remain covered until the beginning of the Easter Vigil.”

The last two weeks before Easter are known as “Passiontide,” and it has been a long standing tradition to place veils over crosses and statues.  The Catholic Encyclopedia explains:

“The crosses are veiled because Christ during this time no longer walked openly among the people, but hid himself. Hence in the papal chapel the veiling formerly took place at the words of the Gospel: ‘Jesus autem abscondebat se.’ Another reason is added by Durandus, namely that Christ's divinity was hidden when he arrived at the time of His suffering and death. The images of the saints also are covered because it would seem improper for the servants to appear when the Master himself is hidden.”

The essence of Catholic liturgy is to employ things physical in order to bring us into the divine.  This is part and parcel of what it means to be sacramental.  It is a striking visual indeed to walk in on the Fifth Sunday of Lent to a much simplified church, one in which there are plain veils placed over the familiar statues that we see week after week.  At the other end of the season, it becomes striking to see the veils once again removed and the crosses and statues restored in all their glory.

The whole idea of covering the crosses and images is more obvious when we consider the connections to other elements in the Holy Week liturgies.  For instance, the dramatic unveiling of the Good Friday cross which occurs when the deacon or priest stops three times proclaiming, “Behold the wood of the Cross, on which hung the salvation of the world,” only makes sense if the cross was once veiled.  Remember that any veiling is always at the service of a greater unveiling.  It is intended to disclose more, not less, of reality.  The unveiling of the processional cross is more than likely the reason for the Missal directive that “Crosses remain covered until the end of the Celebration of the Lord’s Passion on Good Friday.”  On Good Friday, the Cross has been unveiled in all of its tragic glory.

However, the Church herself remains in darkness until the resurrection.  The statues of the saints are the symbols of the Church triumphant, and even though the Cross has been unveiled, the mystery of why the Cross is glorious (indeed the very reason why we refer to the day as Good Friday) is yet to be disclosed.  It is not until the Easter Vigil, when the glory of the resurrection hits the Church in its liturgical climax, that the Church herself, represented by the statues and images, can be properly unveiled.  In fact, one should be struck by the dramatic process by which these images come back in view.  One does not walk in to the Church building on the night of the Easter Vigil and simply “see” the unveiled statues.  Rather, although the physical cloths may have been removed, the images themselves remain veiled in darkness.  Indeed, the darkness casts its shadows over the entire Church, both in its universal reality and in reference to the specific building that houses the liturgy.  The statues and images an not simply unveiled to indicate the resurrection, but it is the light of Christ itself spread from the Easter fire throughout the congregation (who is the Church) that unveils the images.  The light of Christ, which is processed in a parallel manner to the Good Friday Cross, stops three times with the proclamation, “The light of Christ.”  As it spreads, it illuminates the faces of the participants (the Church militant) as well as the statues and images (the Church triumphant).  This is precisely why, according to the rubric, “images remain covered until the beginning of the Easter Vigil” even thought the Crosses were unveiled two days earlier.

Of course, much of the dramatic unveiling that occurs in the liturgy loses its raison d’etre, or at the very least some aesthetic connection, if the crosses and images are not first veiled.  While the new translation has not introduced the rubric for veiling on this Fifth Sunday of Lent, it does seem that it will place the rubric prominently in the Missal itself, and for that reason, it just may (we can only hope), remind and encourage pastors to employ this ancient practice.