The Veil

On this Resurrection Sunday, I have been contemplating the veil of the temple. Matthew 27:50, 51 says, "And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit. At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom...."

What was the significance of the veil being rent in two pieces? And why from top to bottom? What is the veil in the first place?

The veil in the temple separated the Holy of Holies from the rest of the temple. The Holy of Holies was the dwelling-place of God's presence on earth. Only the high priest was allowed to enter and even then, only once a year to atone for Israel's sins. The veil was symbolic of man being separated from God by his sin. According to the historian Josephus, the veil was around 60 feet high and four inches thick. Josephus goes on to say that two horses pulling in opposite directions could not tear the material that constructed the temple veil.

It's significant that the veil was torn from top to bottom, so that no one could claim that human hands had perpetrated a fraudulent miracle. We know that horses couldn't tear the four-inch-thick fabric--therefore, how could this material be rent in a natural explanation? And in case someone might conceive that it could be accomplished, surely no human could tear a 60 foot veil from the top. As this is recorded specifically in Scripture and elsewhere by historians, we must conclude that this event had witnesses.

So, if the veil was torn by God and not man, why did He do it? There are a couple of theories about this. It could have symbolized God coming down to man. Charles Spurgeon said, "In the East men express their sorrow by rending their garments; and the temple, when it beheld its Master die, seemed struck with horror, and rent its veil. Shocked at the sin of man, indignant at the murder of its Lord, in its sympathy with Him who is the true temple of God, the outward symbol tore its holy vestment from the top to the bottom."

However, the most important significance of the veil being ripped was to signal the end of the old covenant. The old system was done away with. The sacrificial system had ended as Christ once and for all paid the price for sin. There was now no need to continue with ritual or to pay the interest on our sin debt--it was now fully paid! There was now no separation between God and man. Jesus' death made it possible for us to boldly come before God. Jesus is our high priest, who made atonement for our sin, not yearly as the human high priest had done, but once for all. Hebrews has a lot to say about this. In chapter ten, we read, "And every priest stands ministering daily and offering repeatedly the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins. But this Man, after He had offered one sacrifice for sins forever, sat down at the right hand of God, from that time waiting till His enemies are made His footstool. For by one offering He has perfected forever those who are being sanctified.... Therefore, brethren, since we have confidence to enter the holy place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way which He inaugurated for us through the veil, that is, His flesh, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water." Also, in chapter four, it is written, "Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has ascended into heaven, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess....Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need."

How awesome that we now have access to the throne room of God, through Christ's shed blood!

I had heard about a billboard that was up on the highway near where I live, advertising a church. It was controversial because of some of the things written on the billboard. I finally saw the sign this week and was struck by one of the beliefs of this "church." When I looked up their website, I found: "We do not, however, believe that Jesus is the only way to know God’s presence and experience God’s salvation. That same God or spirit of life and love is present in many religions around the world." For calling themselves a "Church of CHRIST," their belief about Jesus was pretty fishy: "We are not a “liberal” church that says whatever way works for you is fine, we simply recognize that Christianity is our way into the life of God but do not confuse that as being the only way into God who will not be defined by human barriers." Their list of beliefs seemed more like a political or social club, as opposed to a church. Very little of their beliefs had anything whatsoever to do with the Bible.

In one of my previous posts, I mentioned that I find it a travesty when humans dictate to God what is right or wrong, what is sin or acceptable, or even how you can get into heaven. How dare we? Who on earth do we think we are? Living in bodies God created, living on a planet that God made, breathing the very air that God brought into being. And yet, we think we can tell God how to run the universe He created? Can we honestly tell HIM under what circumstances that we will be coming to HIS heaven? Do we seriously tell the Creator of everything what we think the rules should be? How arrogant! Can you imagine your child telling you what the rules will be in your house, telling you what they will do, how they will do it, demanding money, etc. from you? Or if a peon in a huge corporation went to the CEO and told him how much salary he demanded to make, the benefits he required, and as long as he was at it, he would rather the company manufacture something different because he wasn't really "feeling" the product? Can you imagine clay on a potter's wheel standing up and telling the potter how he should mold the clay? Of course not! It's ludicrous! God does not run a democracy, folks. It's a theocracy and you better figure out what Theos' requirements are and get in line! Yes, God is loving, but he is God and we are not.

John 3:16 (a short story by Robin Lynn Davidson

Take Two: the following is a second version of a short story I wrote in an earlier blog.

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Emily opened her eyes reluctantly. She blinked in the early morning light slanting through the slats of the blinds. She lay there for a moment, then sighed, shoving back the covers. She reached for the clanging alarm, then pushed herself up to a sitting position and swung her feet off the bed and onto the floor. She stumbled to her laundry basket and fumbled through the jumbled up clean laundry. She silently berated herself for not folding it last night, but she'd been so tired. She pulled on a t-shirt and yanked up her sweats. Walking into the living room, she was suddenly aware how quiet the morning was. It was early, but still, the noise of the Bohemian neighborhood could always be heard plainly in her one bedroom, third-floor apartment. She ate her customary morning yogurt (always strawberry flavored) and laced up her shoes. She tucked her key and her cell phone in her pocket and skipped down the stairs. Pulling her hair into a high ponytail, she sat on the front stoop to stretch. Then she looked around. No cars. No people. No noise signaling the beginning of the day. Odd, she thought, but didn’t dwell on it long, as she concentrated on stretching her hamstrings. Then she began to run.

Emily was not a morning person by nature. Oh, but how she loved to run! Between her job at the office, her volunteer work at the library, and her large and slightly clingy family, who expected to see her daily, not to mention her mother and sisters constantly setting her up on blind dates, the mornings were all she had left. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was running from something when she jogged. Even so, when the wind whipped through her hair and her muscles burned and the only sound in her ears was her breathing and footfalls, she felt free and in control. She felt like she could be herself and think clearly. When she felt the sun on her face, she could imagine she was flying.

Somewhere around the sixth block, Emily thought again about the peculiar quietness this morning. She looked around and couldn’t recall seeing a single person since she’d left her apartment or even a single car passing her as she ran. As endorphins gradually charged up her sleepy mind, puzzlement replaced her morning reverie. Block after block she glanced from side to side. She looked down each crossroad. She looked up at balconies and peered into store windows. All was quiet and dark. There were no people waiting at the bus stop, no paperboys delivering stacks of newspapers, not even a dog barking. She took a turn off her usual route and headed for the market district. There was always lots of activity there, at any time of day. As she rounded the last corner, she stopped short. There was no hustle, no bustle. She panted, not from exertion, but from the beginnings of fear and shock. She pulled out her cell phone and called her mother. Her phone beeped and ended the call. She called her sister. Another beep. She checked her signal--she had five bars. She tried her other sister, her best friend, her dad, everyone in her contact list but not one call went through.

Emily strode towards one of her favorite restaurants and pulled on the door. Locked. She turned and went across the street to the boutique that her friend’s mom owned. The door was locked, but she went around to the back and let herself in with a hidden spare key. She walked through the store, aware of silence and loneliness pressing in on her as blank-faced mannequins stared. Maybe a landline would work. She went to the phone on the counter and dialed her mother, but a beep welcomed her and the phone went dead. Suddenly, relief washed over her as she decided that this must be some sort of prank her loved ones were pulling on her. But, how would they make the streets deserted? Maybe she was on a TV show, like Candid Camera. Or maybe today was a holiday and there was a parade somewhere and everyone had gone to watch. She glanced at the calendar next to the cash register and decided it wasn’t any holiday that she was aware of. Maybe I'm still asleep. Maybe this is a really vivid dream. Emily pinched herself to check. Nope, she was awake. Did I miss the memo? she wondered. Where is everyone? She dialed 911, but to no avail. Panic swept over every inch of her body and she felt an anxiety attack looming in her near future.

The urge to run was strong. Emily dashed out the back door without bothering to lock it behind her. As she ran, she passed her empty office, the vacant library, a park devoid of any activity. She ran all the way to her best friend’s apartment, but found it the same as the entire city seemed to be--deserted. Emily ran and thought and struggled to put it all together. She gradually became aware that somewhere along the way, the landscape around her had changed.

She was on a dusty dirt road and as she turned in a circle, she could see sand and rocky terrain over most of the horizon. She saw mountains: a confusing sight, considering she lived in the plains. Where had the city gone? Where was she? This nightmare was getting more and more bizarre. She walked towards some buildings that she assumed was a city. It looked like something out of a history book. Or at the very least, something from a middle eastern country. The buildings were squared off and made of stone. It looked ancient. She wandered the streets, wondering where she was. Or when she was, for that matter. I've jogged far before, but this is ridiculous, she tried to joke to herself, ignoring the tremor in her voice. After cautiously walking down several streets and seeing no one, she thought she heard a noise. She followed the sound down several more streets. It grew louder and louder until she was sure it was the clamor of a whole crowd of people. Finally! She started to cry in relief. She broke into a trot and followed the sound. As she reached a hill on the other side of the city, the noise stopped and there was no crowd anywhere to be seen. The only thing she saw was a wooden cross and a man hanging on it.

She saw the man and he saw her. Really saw her. He was dying, but she could see comfort in his eyes, as though he were comforting her. There was something else there too. She felt as if he knew her. She could tell he knew everything that she had ever done. She could almost see all of her actions played out in the air between them, as though on a movie screen. Her eyes dropped to the ground in a shame she did not comprehend.

"Daughter," said a strong, yet gentle voice. "Do not look away."

Emily reluctantly looked up to the man again. This time, when she looked into his eyes, she saw a love there that she had never seen before. But, the love wasn't just spelled out in his eyes. It was also written in the blood that was spilling from his body, from the crown of thorns on his head, from the nails that were piercing his hands and feet, holding him to a cross. No, that was wrong--the nails didn't hold him to the cross--love did. She gasped.

"Who is he?" she whispered, in awe.

"He is my beloved son, in whom I am well-pleased."

Emily had been to church once or twice and was sure that this man must be Jesus. Was the voice God? There was so much she didn’t understand, but all she could think to ask was, "But...why is he...dying?"

"Because I loved the world so much that I gave my one and only son that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. My prophet Isaiah wrote that he is pierced for the world's transgressions, crushed for their sins, the punishment that brings them peace is upon him and by his wounds they are healed."

"But, where is the world? I mean, where is everybody? I have looked all day and I can’t find anyone. And…where and when am I?"

"Today, my child, you are the world. You mean the world to me. I brought you here to show you that my son came to die for YOU."

Emily thought about her life. She wasn’t a bad person, she didn’t think, but she was far from worthy. She thought of the many mistakes she had made. She saw flashes of lies and pain and selfishness in her mind’s eye. Tears of regret slid out from underneath her lashes.

"No, no, no! I am not worth it! My life is not worth your life! How can you love me so much that you would die for me? Don't you know that I am nothing?"

"Of course I know you, child. I made you. I created your inmost being and knit you together in your mother's womb. I have watched you grow. I have a purpose for your life. And you are worth it to me. I love you enough to send my son to die for you. Not just the whole world, but you alone. You individually. If you were the only person on earth, he would still die for only you."

"But why? Who am I to deserve this?” Emily's throat and heart ached with tears and sorrow for the cost that this man Jesus was willing to pay.

"Because without his taking the punishment for your sins, we would be separated forever, my child, and that's not something that I can live with. I want you with me. For all eternity. This is my gift to you. Will you accept my gift?"

Emily's heart suddenly soared at the sound of the voice and the love she felt enveloping her completely. She felt a warmth pulse through her veins. She had never felt love like this before and was sure that she never would again. Yet, she was sure that this love that was being offered to her would carry her through her life and beyond the grave. She looked up into the face of the man dying for her alone, her face still wet with tears, but gratitude written on every inch of her expression, and whispered, "Yes!"