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I recently read Swimming With
Scapulars, by John Lickona, a
decidedly conservative young
Catholic man who has found, in
devotion via the scapular, a more
certain way in an uncertain world.
He’s not alone. There is a current
crisis of Catholic identity, as a generation
raised on the possibilities
and question marks of Vatican II
comes of age without sure answers.
We’re in a moment when the
pendulum that swung in the direction
of openness to returning to our
roots (during the Council and its
aftermath) is swinging in the direction
of openness to continuity with
our more recent past, the immediate
centuries before the Council.
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 Different Signs
Many older Catholics’ concerns with
this trend may be unfounded. Could we
ever return to an era that most people
today never experienced? For the
younger Catholic, a devotion such as
scapulars or religious medals is sure to
have a very different meaning than it
might have had in the 1950s, when
such objects were used by most
Catholics in this country.
I wore a scapular when I was a child,
back in the ’60s, just as the Council
was unfolding. Indeed, I took it seriously:
It was a sign of my commitment
to Christ, a reminder to me of my own
faith as I went about my daily tasks.
But that sign didn’t last long. I never
did quite catch the whole message of
scapulars, or properly memorize whatever
prayers I was supposed to say. Over
the years, during a time when I considered
life as a missionary priest, I
wore a simple wooden cross. That felt
akin to the idea of a scapular, though
I know they’re technically distinct. I
wore that cross for several years, wearing
out more than one leather string.
When my 101-year-old Nana passed
away, I took to wearing a crucifix of
hers that had been blessed by Pope Pius
XII on her trip-of-a-lifetime to Europe.
The daughter of Irish immigrants, she
had nurtured my faith in ways for
which I am forever grateful. Once
again, I found something tangible,
hung around my neck, to call me to
faith.
Years later, on my own trip to
Europe, when I went to write a story
about the post-earthquake reconstruction
of St. Francis Basilica, I
purchased a crucifix that I wore for
some years, until I lost it in a hotel
room. (I never did take to wearing a “miraculous medal,” the medal that
replaces a scapular.)
Next, I took to carrying a medal of
St. Francis de Sales, the patron saint
of Catholic journalists, and, for a
time, a medal of our own St. Anthony
of Padua. These medals, I know, don’t
carry the indulgences associated with
scapulars or their substitute medals
associated with Marian devotion.
But, when I see these saints’ images
among my personal items daily, or
when I’m searching for coins or my
tiny computer flash drive, they keep
me centered on my God-given vocation.
When I consider the saints’ lives,
I think of their belief and commitment
and pray for the same.
Maybe that’s what a renewed appreciation
for scapulars or medals of any
sort is about. Fifty years after a time
when these types of things seemed
stifling to many, perhaps they can
again find an appropriate place, small
daily reminders of what we’re really
about.
Next: The Rosary
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