And behold, the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. And the earth shook, and the rocks were split.
Matthew 27:51 ESV
It was enormous, and in its original design, was made of blue, purple and scarlet yarn and finely twisted linen with decorative cherubim embroidered into the fabric. It was to be suspended with gold hooks on four posts of acacia wood overlaid with gold and standing on four silver bases.
To hundreds of generations of God’s people, this curtain covering the Most Holy Place represented separation from the actual presence of God, caused by sin. Only the High Priest could enter behind this veil, and he only once a year on the Day of Atonement. The sacrificial system contained in the old covenant worship made people ceremonially “clean” but yet access into the very presence of God was withheld. The old system was merely a shadow of what was to come!
On the day that we call Good Friday, cataclysmic events took place and fundamental shifts were made in the spiritual world that are almost too vast to contemplate, yet alone comprehend. To try and describe these events seems almost trite because they are so far beyond my meager skills with language. But, on the basis of His covenantal love for the humanity He had created, Jesus, the only Son of God, allowed Himself to be put to death, an excruciating death, carrying on Himself the immeasurable weight and degradation of the total sum of our sin. The perfect sacrifice, the Lamb of God, satisfied the demands of the old system in one flawless act, making further ongoing sacrifices for sin obsolete. And the fate of the rebellious Lucifer and his fallen hosts was sealed for eternity.
For those disciples who were present at the scene, the unfolding events of the previous hours must have seemed so horrific that they would scarcely have noticed creation’s reaction to what was occurring. A deep, impenetrable darkness covered the land for three hours, somehow seeking to mask humanity’s darkest deed. There was thunder, lightning, and massive earthquakes, scattering the terrified onlookers. Giant rocks were split in two, tombs opened and numerous “holy” people were raised from the dead and were witnessed in the city streets by many.
And then there was the temple veil, the curtain separating humanity from God’s manifest presence and glory. With a piercing, ripping sound that perhaps no one heard, this giant curtain was torn asunder, from top to bottom, by the mighty hand of God ending forever the requirement of separation that our sin produced and ushering in a new possibility of fellowship and intimacy with God, totally unknown since the expulsion from Eden.
The writer of Hebrews puts it this way:
Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain, that is, through his flesh, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water.
Hebrews 10:19-22 ESV
And yet, sadly to say, some Christians remain in the Holy Place, the outer chamber, never daring to push through the torn veil into the Most Holy place, into intimacy with our God. Shame (remorse and embarrassment over the hidden decay in our lives), or Pride (sifting through the ashes futilely searching for some trace of our own righteousness); these two stumbling blocks prevent us from dashing through the torn veil with a child-like joy and delight into the arms of a waiting, loving Father.
British author and Bible teacher, Roy Hession, writes in his study in Hebrews, “From Shadow To Substance”: -“Although historically the veil has been rent, something very much like it still seems to be there in our experience, excluding us from that more intimate fellowship with God. We had hoped that we would have found in our lives a much nearer place and a more real experience of His presence. Such an experience may have eluded us for so long that we are in danger of “settling for” the Holy Place, assuming that it is all there is in the Christian life. In that case, we might have to admit that the Christian life is hardly worth the enormous sacrifice that Jesus paid for it.”
For those of us who believe in the power of prayer and are interceding on behalf of the Anglican Communion in these challenging days, it is increasingly more imperative that we grasp the significance of the torn veil, and, as the writer of Hebrews exhorts, “Let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith”. If we struggle with grasping this reality, let’s ask the Holy Spirit to reveal it to us, moving it from mere head knowledge to a place of faith in our hearts.
Jesus has opened the way for us into the very presence of God. As we meditate on His sacrifice this Good Friday, let’s choose to not let anything stand in the way of our embracing all that He accomplished for us in His death – indeed, as our Communion liturgy so eloquently states, “that we and all thy whole Church may obtain remission of our sins and all other benefits of His passion”. Amen.
