Sermon: What’s Behind The Veil?
“Jesus shouted and then died. At once the curtain in the temple tore in two from top to bottom.” – Mark 15:37-38
It had been hanging there for years. It looked as if it might hang there forever. Sixty feet long and 30 feet wide, gorgeously embroidered in blue and purple and scarlet, the massive curtain hung in front of the mercy seat. Josephus said the veil was 4 inches thick and that horses tied to each side could not pull the veil apart. It hung there imposingly as if it were guarding a dark secret. And for years it had guarded its secret well.
It was there to fulfill a double function. On the one hand, it was there to keep men out—a warning to sinful humanity, that where the last mysteries of religion are concerned, they must keep a respectful distance. On the other hand, it was there to shut God in—for behind that hanging veil there was silence deep as death and darkness black as night.
The veil was placed at the entrance to the “Most Holy Place”, the place where God’s presence was in the ancient temple. Only one man, the high priest, could enter there and then only once a year and only for a few moments. He would take the blood from a lamb and sprinkle it out in the presence of God, symbolizing the forgiveness of peoples’ sins. If anyone else tried to walk through that veil, they were immediately struck dead by God. For almost 1,500 years the veil in the temple had stood for the separation of man and God. It was like a big sign saying “keep out.”
Imagine that you were in the temple on that Friday when Jesus died. You know the rules. If you go through that curtain you are a dead man. Suddenly, that curtain that had stood for 1,500 years ripped right down the middle from the top to the bottom! No one was near it, you didn’t see anyone, but it just ripped right in two!
It had been hanging there for centuries. It looked as if it might hang there forever. And then suddenly, say the gospel writers, it was cut from top to bottom, as by a pair of unseen, giant hands, and suddenly the world’s greatest religious frustration was finished.
They said in the oral tradition that when men compared notes afterwards, they were startled to discover that the rending of the veil before the inmost shrine had happened in the precise moment when Jesus had breathed his last on the hill of Calvary. Immediately, they connected the two events. They said it was no mere coincidence. The death of Christ outside the city wall and the tearing of the veil before the holy of holies, they said, had somehow been related.
They went further, saying they had been directly related as cause and effect. It was the death of Jesus that had torn the veil. So the torn veil before the mercy seat has come to stand for three vital things, and in each of them the death of Jesus is basic.
First, the torn veil means the disclosure of a secret, the revealing of the inmost heart of God. When Jews worshiped in the temple in the old days, they were always sure that there must be something behind the veil. But what? No one quite knew. Something more than the Ark of the Covenant, the 2 tablets containing the 10 commandments, Aaron’s rod and a pot of manna. Something else was in there. Something awesome, they thought, and formidable. Something that might be called the terror of the Lord.
It was characteristic and symbolic of temple religion that, as you passed in from the outer court through the inner courts toward the center, the lights were progressively dimmed until the holiest of all behind the veil lay in perpetual darkness. That had been the tradition for centuries.
And then, say the gospel writers, Jesus died and the veil was torn, and the sunshine went streaming in. It was an end of secrecy in religion. The heart of God lay bare for all the world to see.
So many people today are back where those Jews were before the veil was torn. They believe there is something behind the world we see, but what? The philosopher Thomas Hardy said what is behind the world is, “a heartless indifference”. What do you think is out there, behind all of the happenings in this world? What kind of God is out there? Is He the kind of God to whom it’s worth my while to pray? Is he a God who knows anything about it when things in my little corner of the world go wrong and my heart is hurt and sore? Is he a God who can lay any hand of healing upon me when I’m rushed and tired and hectic? Is he a God who knows anything about the miseries of men and all the heartache of the world? And above all, is he a God who can bring me something of hope and a new beginning when I’ve done something that makes me hate myself? Has He got anything to give me of courage and forgiveness when I’m feeling wretched and miserable and ashamed?
These are the questions with which many people today are groping and finding only an impenetrable veil. We have to tell them that there is no answer, no answer whatever, except in the death of our Lord on Calvary. The cross does answer the question. The cross does tear the veil. The cross does send a flood of light on the darkness that haunts men’s souls.
The cross goes beyond words. You can’t prove love by words. Love is proved by deeds! Don’t you sometimes long to do something even suffer something for those whom God has given you to love? Words can’t prove love. Deeds prove love.
Even God couldn’t do it by words. Once and again God had said, “Come, let us reason together. Let’s bring our reasoning to an end.” And that couldn’t prove love. Once and again God had sent his prophets to be a herald voice to men, but not even the Word of God burning and blazing on these men’s lips could do it. God had sent Jesus, preaching the Sermon on the Mount, challenging and appealing to men in tones they had never heard before to trust God’s love for everything. And even that couldn’t do it.
And then, when it seemed that the last word had been said and God himself could do no more, suddenly, from top to bottom—not from the bottom upward, which might have been a mere act of human inquisitiveness and curiosity, but from top to bottom, an act of divine revelation—the veil was torn. The heart of God lay bare. The death of Jesus Christ reveals to me the very heart of God because it’s not words at all, but a deed against which I can batter all my doubts to pieces. It takes me past the secrecy and the clouds and darkness and lets the sun shine in upon the mercy seat. And behold, God’s heart is love.
But the torn veil stands for something more than the disclosure of a secret and the letting in of the light. It stands for the opening up of a road, the offer of a right-of-way. When that enormous veil was torn in half it was as if the heavens themselves were screaming, “Come in! You now have access to God.” Imagine that you have a ticket to a concert of your favorite artist. When you arrive you decide you’d like to go talk to him or her. So you head toward the backstage area. Guess what would happen? Two big guys in sunglasses would step up in your way about the time you got to the entrance. They would sternly ask to see your backstage pass and if you don’t have one, you don’t get access. Hebrews magnificently describes our access granted to us by the blood of Jesus, “Let us go right into the presence of God with sincere hearts fully trusting him. For our guilty consciences have been sprinkled with Christ’s blood to make us clean, and our bodies have been washed with pure water.”- Hebrews 10:22
You’ve seen that historic picture of John Kennedy Jr. playing under the desk in the Oval Office where President Kennedy was working. We have that kind of access to God. It’s not ours because of our income or our race or our education or our religious training. The Bible triumphantly declares, “But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ…For through Him we both have access to the Father.” – Ephesians 2:13, 18
Don’t you hate it when you call some 800 number and can’t get access to a person? Imagine praying without access to the Father. You begin your prayer and you hear a recording, “Thank you for calling your Heavenly Father’s house. Your call may be monitored for quality assurance. Please select one of the following options: Press 1 for prayer requests. Press 2 for prayers of thanksgiving. Press 3 for prayers containing complaints. Press 4 for all other prayers. I’m sorry; all of our angels are busy helping other sinners right now. However, your prayers are very important to us and will be answered in the order received, so please stay on the line. If you would like to leave a voice mail message for: God, the Father, Press 1 now. For Jesus, Press 2 now. For the Holy Spirit, Press 3 now. If you would like to hear the Heavenly Choir sing a Psalm while you are holding, Press 4 now. Our computers indicate that you have already prayed once today. Please hang up and try again tomorrow. The office is closed on weekends and all State and Federal holidays. Please pray again between 9:30 a.m. and 4:30 p.m. Monday through Friday (except holidays). If you need emergency assistance when this office is closed contact your local church.
It wasn’t only the progressive lowering of the lights as you neared the center that was characteristic of that temple on the hill. It was also the progressive heightening of the barriers. First you had the outer court, where anyone at all might come. Then the inner court, which was reserved for trueborn Jews. And then beyond that the inner shrine, where only the ministering priests might enter. And finally the Holiest of All, where one man, on one day in the year, was allowed to enter.
What an irony of fate that, in the time of Jesus, that one, privileged individual should have been Caiaphas. Caiaphas and God were alone together, and all the rest of humanity -the humble, seeking souls with heart and flesh crying out for the living God - were blocked and thrust back by one barrier after another and finally by that relentless veil that was death and sacrilege to touch.
You can just picture those Jews standing outside in the sunshine while the high priest alone went in, and then looking at him with awe and reverence when he came out, even if he was just Caiaphas. They had never seen God and never would, but there was a man who had. They bowed before him as though he were half a god himself. And that was as far as religion went. No access to the mercy seat for them, no grasp of this great hand of the Eternal. What that frowning veil seemed to say was “Stand back; keep your distance. God is not for you.”
But, say the gospel writers, one day on Golgotha, between two thieves, a friend of sinners gave his life, and the veil was finished and the road of access opened up for all. I wonder what the priests thought when that happened? I wonder what Caiaphas thought? How they looked at each other with dismay on their faces, knowing that, unless they did something about this at once, the whole face of religion would be changed forever! And no doubt that very night they got the torn veil patched up again.
Following the Civil War, a dejected confederate soldier was sitting outside the grounds of the White House. A young boy approached him and inquired why he was so sad. The soldier related how he had repeatedly tried to see President Lincoln to tell him why he was unjustly deprived of certain lands in the South following the war. On each occasion as he attempted to enter the White House, the guards crossed their bayoneted guns in front of the door and turned him away.
The boy motioned to the old soldier to follow him. When they approached the entrance, the guards came to attention, stepped back and opened the door for the boy. He proceeded to the library where the President was resting and introduced the soldier to his father. The boy was Tad Lincoln.
“Through Jesus we have access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of god.”- Romans 5:2
“So whenever we are in need, we should come bravely before the throne of our merciful God. There we will be treated with undeserved kindness, and we will find help.” – Hebrews 4:16