Living Beyond the Veils

Exodus 26:31-33; Hebrews 10:19-22; Matthew 27:50-51;2 Corinthians 3:16-18; Revelation 21:22-23

Exodus 26:31-33; Hebrews 10:19-22; Matthew 27:50-51;2  Corinthians 3:16-18; Revelation 21:22-23

The Veil of the Tabernacle

In the Tabernacle of Exodus 26, hung a veil that separated the Holy of Holies from the rest of the sanctuary. This veil was not purely a room divider to separate the Holy Place from the Holy of Holies. It was to separate man from God. The veil was a preacher. To everyone who would listen, it preached separation, terrifying holiness, and mysterious remission of sins. Only the high priest could pass through this veil, and that but once a year, to offer atonement blood for himself and the nation.

Just by hanging there, in that Holy Place, this veil speaks to the profound singularity of God’s holiness—a holiness so all-consuming that no mortal can approach it. It is also a pictogram of the chasm that our sin has carved out of self-will—a bridge too far that can only be planked by divine pity.

Yet, this veil probes a more profound mystery. It compels the seeking heart to wonder, “what lies beyond this veil?” These awakened hearts begin to see that the veil is not a wall at all. No. It’s a door. An entrance that calls the needy sinner to press forward by faith, trusting that there is a Way into communion with our God, of a single offering—the blood which was borne within the veil in that heavenly temple by Jesus Christ the Righteous.

The Tearing of the Veil

When Jesus breathed His last upon the cross, something that had never happened, happened: “And, behold, the veil of the temple was rent in twain from the top to the bottom; and the earth did quake, and the rocks rent” (Matthew 27:51). What a paralyzing event that must have been. If any priest was inside that Holy Place at that very moment, he had a front-row seat to a seismic shift in how God would now deal with fallen man. The legal barriers (law, priest, and sacrifice) between God and man (Jew and Gentile) were torn asunder, and the veil into the presence of God was opened for all through the new and Living Way—the blood of Jesus Christ.

This is the heart of the Gospel: that through the sacrifice of Christ, the impenetrable has been penetrated. The veil between heaven and earth, between time and eternity, sin and holiness, has been removed. And all who hear the welcome sound of the veil of Christ’s flesh ripping, as it were, in the gospel, are welcomed.

Yet this veil tearing only shows us that the fullest revelation of God is still beyond our grasp. Though the way is open, we still see “through a glass, darkly,” don’t we? (1 Corinthians 13:12). Yes, the veil is torn, but the fullness of that glory is yet to be revealed. So, the believer lives in the tension of the “already” and the “not yet,” caught between heaven and earth…between the realities of this world and the glory of the world yet to be revealed.

The Thin Veil of Perception

This means there is another veil—one we often sense is there, but we can’t quite see it. In other words, we know that there’s more to life than meets the eye. Those times when, for a split second, the veil between time and eternity appears to blink—we catch a vision of the eternal through the ordinary, hints of eternity in the everyday. A birth, a death, a near-miss tragedy, a glorious victory—we see it. When the world and natural events fill our minds with dread, these moments remind us that the veil between this world and the next is thinner than we think.

Listen to the words of Jacob when he awoke from his dream at Bethel: “Surely the Lord is in this place; and I knew it not” (Genesis 28:16). The veil was lifted for a moment, and Jacob saw the mediator-ladder between heaven and earth, reaching to the very throne of God. But how often do we, like Jacob, fail to recognize the next world in our midst? The veil of our own perception, brothers, clouded by sin and distraction, prevents us from seeing the full reality of eternity.

Yet, through preaching, through prayer, through the sacraments, through the Word of God, we may pierce this veil. Each moment spent in communion with God the Spirit is a moment in which the veil is drawn back, and we are given a little taste of the glory that shall be revealed.

The Veil of the Flesh

But there is another veil, even more intimate and personal: the veil of our own flesh. Our physical bodies, while gifts from God, also serve as veils that separate. Paul speaks of this when he says, “For we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens” (2 Corinthians 5:1).

Our bodies are veils that house our souls, and while they enable us to interact with the physical world, due to the fall, they also reduce direct communion with the spiritual. We long to be clothed with our heavenly bodies, to be freed from the sins and sufferings of this present life. Yet, we are called to live in these bodies, to glorify God in our flesh, even as we yearn for the day when this veil will be lifted, and we shall see Jesus face to face.

The Final Revelation

There will come a day, brethren, when the veil will be fully lifted for the people of God. John speaks of this in his vision of the New Jerusalem: “And there shall be no more curse: but the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in it; and his servants shall serve him: And they shall see his face; and his name shall be in their foreheads” (Revelation 22:3-4). The final veil, the one that separates us from the Love of our hearts, Christ, will be removed, and we shall behold Him in all His majesty.

On that day, time will give way to all eternity, and we shall enter into the fullness of Christ’s presence. The besetting sins that have hounded us, the mysteries that have puzzled us, the questions that have haunted us, will be answered in the light of His glory. We shall know even as we are known (1 Corinthians 13:12), and the veil will be no more.

Final Thoughts

When we pause briefly like this and think of such veils, does it fill us with a sense of awe and wonder at the mysteries of divine love? Does it help us to approach the throne of grace with boldness, knowing that the veil has been torn and the way into the Holy of Holies is open? Do we, around this table, look forward with eager anticipation to the day when the final veil will be lifted, and we shall dwell in the presence of God forever?