|
Getting your Trinity Audio player ready...
|
The prompt came during a prayer group I attended—a weekly gathering of friends who love to praise the Lord, seek Him, and listen for His whispers.
On this particular Saturday morning, I heard the Lord whisper: “The veil is torn.”
It sounds like a perfect message for Easter, but that season of the Church has come and gone.
Still, the words lingered.
The Holy of Holies
My mind drifted back to the Jewish temple of Old Testament times. Deep within the temple, hidden in the innermost part of the structure, was the Holy of Holies. In this sacred place rested the Ark of the Covenant, the very presence of God.
The Holy of Holies carried such sacredness that only the high priest could enter, and only once a year on the Day of Atonement. Separating the Holy of Holies from the rest of the temple stood a massive veil or curtain measuring nearly 60 feet high, 30 feet wide, and 4 inches thick. This was no ordinary curtain.
And yet Scripture tells us that at the moment of Jesus’ death, the veil was torn from top to bottom. The barrier of separation was severed.
No longer would God’s presence remain distant and inaccessible.
Can you imagine the sound of the veil tearing?
The gasp of those nearby?
The confusion?
The fear?
Can you imagine the priests running toward the inner sanctuary to discover what had happened, only to find the Holy of Holies suddenly exposed before them? The torn curtain uncovered the sacred space that had remained hidden for generations.
What Veils Still Remain?
The words continue to linger in my heart: “The veil is torn.”
I sit with these words and ask myself: What veils still remain within me? What structures have I built around my own heart, mind, and soul that keep me from fully seeing, hearing, believing, trusting, surrendering, or loving? What fears still separate me from deeper intimacy with God?
Like Pharaoh’s hardened heart.
And Saul’s blindness.
Like the disciples, who hid behind locked doors.
Yet if I’m honest, I can see traces of myself in each of them. Things creep in, like:
Pride.
Shame.
Disappointment.
Control.
Fear of vulnerability.
Old wounds.
Self-protection.
Busyness.
Distraction.
Layers we unknowingly place between ourselves and the presence of God.
He Came Close
Yet Jesus did not come to forgive, heal, and restore us from a distance.
He came close.
He came close enough to be felt, to be seen, to be heard, and to be loved.
Through His death, the veil was torn so that nothing would stand between us and the Father’s love. No getting ourselves cleaned up before drawing near to Him, no proving before approaching, no hiding, no checking off the spiritual to-do list.
The invitation is not simply to admire the torn veil as a moment in Scripture, but to step beyond it into the holy of holies.
To walk into the holy place of communion with God.
To enter the hidden places of our own hearts—the dwelling place of the Holy Spirit.
And to ask: What still veils all that God longs for me to see, experience, receive, and become?
Come Closer
He wants us to draw near.
To encounter Him more deeply.
To live unveiled before Him.
Perhaps that is the whisper still echoing today:
The veil is torn.
Come closer
