Abbey-Roads2

I love the scapular. 

Recently I was envious of a blogger priest who had been misunderstood when he mentioned superstition in the same sentence with the Brown Scapular of Our Lady of Mt. Carmel.  (My envy was that he got 41 comments the last time I checked!  LOL!)  He explained in his responses that he did not mean it the way it sounded, and I honestly do not think he did.  However, I was edified by the many responses in defense of the scapular that were posted.

I have had devotion to the scapular since I was about 4 years old, when I tormented my sister’s girl friend until she gave me her 1st Communion scapular.  (Yes, I have always been a brat!)  I was enamored with the image of Our Lady of Mt. Carmel, and since then, it is under this title that I have always cherished a particular devotion  to Our Lady.  A few years later I became acquainted with the promises associated with the scapular, and like most kids, I wore it while swimming and even when I took a bath.

The scapular is a portion of the Carmelite habit.

First of all, the ordinary scapular must be understood as a small portion of the habit of the Carmelite Order - the scapular religious wear over their tunics.  Scapulars are common to many religious orders, whether in the East or the West.  It was originally a work garment, similar to an apron, except it was worn over the shoulders, or the scapula - hence, the name.

Tradition holds that Our Lady herself conferred habits upon various religious orders, and the Carmelites, through the person of St. Simon Stock, received this addition to their habit in an apparition of the Blessed Virgin to the saint.  Our Lady promised, that to those who persevered in wearing this habit, that is, persevering in the vocation it signified, such a person would enjoy her special patronage and protection, especially at the hour of death, and she would preserve them from the eternal fires of Hell.  The Carmelite order in turn extended this privilege to the faithful, promoting the devotion of wearing a portion of the scapular of Mt. Carmel.  A confraternity was established with special regulations, and the scapular, devoutly worn, united the wearer to the Order in a special way, enjoying many benefits and privileges associated with the good works of the Order.

Enriched with indulgences.

Though disputed by historians and the Carmelite order itself, there remains the ‘tradition’ of the so-called Sabbatine Privlege, which, incidentally, may be piously believed by the faithful.  This promise held that the Mother of God would deliver from purgatory, on the first Saturday after their death, Carmelites and those associated with them by wearing the scapular, while observing chastity according to their state in life, and also recited the Little Office of Our Lady.  The promise of not suffering eternal fire, and being delivered from purgatory has been an incentive, if you will, for people to embrace the devotion of the scapular.  Nevertheless, the scapular is one of the most highly indulgenced sacramentals in the Church.

Ultimately, the scapular remains a sign of devotion to the Blessed Virgin, as well as a sign of her protection and patronage.  As a sacramental of the Church, its efficacy remains the prayer of the Church, and in this instance, most especially of the prayer and good works of the Order of Carmel.  Therefore, it is not at all a superstitious talisman or fetish.

Is it used in a superstitious manner?

Maybe sometimes.  It also must be understood that generally, a person must request either to wear the scapular, or to be enrolled in the Scapular Confraternity.  The element of desire or intent, ordinarily ought to be present.  However, I believe the person gifting the scapular to another, may indeed provide the necessary faith and prayer for the person who happens to be the recipient.  (Although there is no accounting for the mercy of God and the intercession of Our Lady.)  

I know a woman who visits the dying - not uncommonly those she has never met - and throws the scapular upon the shoulders of Catholics and non-Catholics alike, without their knowledge.  Now of course, her prayers, joined to the prayer of the Church can indeed obtain the grace of eternal salvation for the dying person, nevertheless, this particular woman is a rather superstitious Italian in her own right, and I question the practice - albeit well intentioned.

When a person uses a sacramental in a spirit of attributing a power unto itself, without faith or reference to God or the Church, or even his own desire for the state of grace, that person is superstitious.  Of course there are stories of Our Lady’s intervention in the lives of persons who have worn a scapular or some other sacramental, nevertheless, these graces are only obtained through the prayer of the Church.

Having said that, if a sinner or agnostic, were to pray the Holy Rosary, or wear the scapular, with the most minute sense of devotion or desire, this act would most likely obtain for that person some manner of intervention by Our Lady.  Many saints have written about such prodigies.  Therefore, even if a person has a tendency towards superstition, I believe the mere wearing of a scapular can obtain the intercession of Our Lady.

Details.

Certain organizations seem to come up with their own rules regarding the scapular.  The Carmelite Order in the United States has come out with a catechises and ritual, entitled, “The Scapular of Our Lady of Mt. Carmel” prepared by the North American Provincials of the Carmelite Orders (Discalced and Calced).

One thing I will mention from the book is this, a scapular may be substituted with a scapular medal.  Once one is enrolled, or receives a blessed scapular, the cloth scapular or the medal may be worn with the same efficacy - and subsequent scapulars, be they cloth or a medal, need not be blessed.

“5) After reception of the scapular, the faithful may substitute it with a medal showing on one side the Sacred Heart of Jesus, and on the other Our Lady.  Both scapular and medal may be replaced without having to be blessed again.”  - The Scapular of Our Lady of Mt. Carmel, Catechesis and Ritual; Appendix: Norms for the Scapular Confraternity. 

The same document states this:

What the Brown Scapular is not:

a. a magical charm to protect you;

b. an automatic guarantee of salvation;

c. an excuse for not living up to the demands of the Christian life. -ibid

So we shouldn’t be making up our own rules about the scapular, the Order of Carmel and the Holy See determine these things.  One more thing - the cloth scapular does not have to have pictures on it.  All the various picture laden brown scapulars coming out today - like Leaflet sells -  are simply novelties, often appealing to our spiritual gluttony and desire to ‘feel’ pious.  The pictures upon the cloth scapular are not essential to the garment. 

Wrap it up!  

Whatever your pious inclinations are, or if you are a great sinner, wear Our Lady’s scapular - thereby asking for her patronage and protection.  The scapular has been historically referred to as ‘Our Lady’s livery’ - it is her holy habit - her clothing for her kids - she’s our Mommy - she clothed the little Jesus - wear the clothes she has provided then - even if people tell you your mother dresses you funny - she’ll take care of the rest. 

I worked with a gay guy that used to tell me, “Your camisole is showing!” (which actually cracked me up), and then he would pull my scapular out in front of people and say, “What the hell is this?”  It was a wonderful opportunity to speak about the faith.  Thus, the scapular becomes a witness to others as well.

Blessed are the poor in spirit. 

What is poverty of spirit anyway?  I can’t get all theological about it because I’m not well educated in theology.  I can only write what I think about it, or what I think it is.

It doesn’t mean you have to be dirt poor of course, people of great wealth have been, and are poor in spirit.  Look at St. Louis, King of France or other extremely wealthy saints.  Now Angela of Foligno, and Francis and Clare of Assisi embraced holy poverty with great fervor, preferring abject poverty to everything else.  Although blessed by lofty mystical graces, these saints were also extremely poor in spirit.

I would rather lie abject on the threhold of the House of God…

The line from this psalm was given to me by my Father Master in the monastery.  “I would rather lie abject on the threshold of the house of God than dwell in the tents of the wicked.”- Ps 84:11  Father gave me the old translation which was from the Mass of St. Benedict Joseph Labre.

This morning at Mass I felt I understood this on a deeper level.  I came to church with a sense of abjection, experiencing my complete spiritual poverty and inability to practice virtue, much less pray.  I realized how wonderful this knowledge of self is - this honesty in prayer, stripped of all pretense.  How “deep calls unto deep” - the depth of my poverty and misery, my sinfulness and spiritual impotence,  calls out to the depths of merciful love.  It seemed to me I understood what Therese meant when she said she rejoiced in her imperfections, her littleness.  And when she insisted, that even if she had on her soul the most horrible sins, she would throw herself into the arms of Jesus with confidence in His merciful love.

Everything is a gift.

This may sound strange, but I was happy to find myself so desolate, so completely devoid of any virtue, so unmortified, and weak, as well as inconsistent.  I can’t exactly recall the quote from Little Therese, but she said something to the effect, that it is so good to find oneself always on the ground, always imperfect, always poor - especially when others see you there.  I kind of think this is similar to what Fr. Silouane meant when he said, “Keep thy soul in hell . . . and despair not.” - that mysterious quote Don Marco placed on the blog yesterday.

I think poverty of spirit has to do with recognizing everything is a grace, that of ourselves we are nothing.  And for me this means that I have great confidence in the mercy of Jesus, who is irresistibly attracted to losers. 

The poor are humble.

Now some will say I’m really speaking of humility here, yet if you consider that Christ emptied himself and took the form of a slave, it is true, that he abased himself and embraced extreme humility.  Nevertheless he first emptied himself, which is as much to say, he became poor.

In our day, wealth and affluence is highly esteemed, although, a great education and multiple degrees are also prized as the means to these things.  We live in a country where a great percentage of people are highly educated with one or two college degrees under their belts.  And of course, intellectuals sometimes are considered the elite in our culture.  It is a form of riches and a source of great pride for many.

Humility and poverty go hand in hand.

Nevertheless, when we become so conscious of our intelligence and pedigree, even if one is not materially well off, there can be a sense of superiority over others because we know ourselves to be better educated.  We may easily dismiss the poor, the uneducated, or those steeped in popular culture, as the Phairisee had dismissed the Publican.  This log of academic achievement, just as material wealth and affluence, can obstruct the reality of our nothingness before God.

Our self-esteem can be so great, we begin to despise the notion of poverty of spirit, prefering instead to focus our attention upon eliminating the material poverty of the underclass; or in Bono’s case, that of the Third World.  That isn’t a bad thing however. 

Humiliations lead one on the way to humility, which leads us to be convinced of our poverty, our nothingness.  I think that is why God allows us to fall so many times, or to find ourselves humilited before others, since our ego is such a hard nut to crack.

Nevertheless, the real grace is when we actually see ourselves poor - when we experience it - there is something liberating in that.  In fact, I’m convinced it carries with it a great freedom of spirit, allowing us to experience (maybe not ‘feel’ however) that interior joy of the Holy Spirit - even in our abjection.