The Curtain
Today I read on in my unlikely Easter story, the story of the Israelites in Numbers. This was the place where it all began--the faith that carried the Israelites through centuries of sacrifices and rituals and attempts to be holy. It seems so foreign to what I read in the New Testament, so unrelated. Surely, surely Jesus' role was predicted even here, at the beginning. Surely the plan was already in place. I've picked up my Bible this week, reading into these unusual rituals and laws, wondering how the crimson thread ties both parts of my Bible together.
It's written into every paragraph, every line, every law.
God was holy. We were not.
God's currency was holiness, perfection, pureness. Ours was unholiness, disobedience, corruption.
His was the language of heaven, of all the ages. Ours was the common language of sin and humanity.
We were separated, powerless to close the gap.
In our unholiness, we were helpless to approach him. In Numbers today I read about the ritual involved with packing up the Tent of Meeting, the place where the ark resided and God dwelt with his people. When it came time for the camp to move, Aaron and his sons--and only Aaron and his sons, the holy chosen ones who had taken the place of Israel's firstborn--were to go into the tent. They were to take down the shielding curtain and cover the ark with it. They were to cover the ark with the hides of sea cows--thick, impenetrable hides. They were to spread over these a solid blue cloth, and place the poles into their places on the ark to be carried. They were to take all the holy articles used in the service and sacrifices and wrap them up similarly, heavily veiled and covered. All of this was done only by Aaron and his sons. Then it says this, "Aaron and his sons are to go into the sanctuary and assign to each man his work and what he is to carry. But the Kohathites (who were assigned to carry these things) must not go in to look at the holy things, even for a moment, or they will die." (Numbers 4:19, 20)
Later when the temple was built, a similar curtain divided the different parts of the sanctuary. Only one man each year was chosen to enter the Most Holy place, and only under certain terms and after being consecrated and prepared. He wore bells, because the knowledge that entering such a holy place could mean death was never far from the Israelites. They were an unholy people approaching a holy God. They were powerless to close the gap.
It had not always been this way. In the Garden of Eden, God had met with Adam and Eve face to face. He had spoken to them plainly, walked with them. No veil separated us then, no curtain kept us from his holiness. The gap that we are powerless to close we created ourselves. Sin placed the curtain between us. Sin made us unholy, unable to be with him in his holiness.
Even with all of the rituals and laws and sacrifices, we were inadequate to see him face to face. A curtain remained between God and his people. We could not be made holy by our own actions. We were powerless.
All along, there were whispers of Jesus. All along, there was a plan.
"With a loud cry, Jesus breathed his last. The curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom." Mark 15: 37
It's such a short sentence, sometimes I forget it's there. Why? Why the curtain? Why at this moment? This was no dramatic flair, no show of force, no happenstance moment. This was the final chapter of Numbers, of Deuteronomy, of Chronicles, of all the centuries that came before. This was what was always intended: God with man, face to face. The unholy in the presence of the Holy of Holies. No curtain. No veil. The gap, closed. The curtain, torn.
God had made a way. The holy place was no longer off limits to us. Jesus, in his death for us, had made us holy. We were no longer regarded as our own, but as his. And as his, we were perfect, without blemish, holy. Our currency was the same. Our language, that of Heaven. We were justified, made righteous. We were no longer separated.
Paul describes this transaction in Hebrews and closes with this truth, "...Since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful." (Hebrews 10:19-23)
The curtain was torn from top to bottom. No shred of it remains to hold us back. Nothing to keep us from his holiness, from his fullness.
Face to face with Holiness itself.
It's written into every paragraph, every line, every law.
God was holy. We were not.
God's currency was holiness, perfection, pureness. Ours was unholiness, disobedience, corruption.
His was the language of heaven, of all the ages. Ours was the common language of sin and humanity.
We were separated, powerless to close the gap.
In our unholiness, we were helpless to approach him. In Numbers today I read about the ritual involved with packing up the Tent of Meeting, the place where the ark resided and God dwelt with his people. When it came time for the camp to move, Aaron and his sons--and only Aaron and his sons, the holy chosen ones who had taken the place of Israel's firstborn--were to go into the tent. They were to take down the shielding curtain and cover the ark with it. They were to cover the ark with the hides of sea cows--thick, impenetrable hides. They were to spread over these a solid blue cloth, and place the poles into their places on the ark to be carried. They were to take all the holy articles used in the service and sacrifices and wrap them up similarly, heavily veiled and covered. All of this was done only by Aaron and his sons. Then it says this, "Aaron and his sons are to go into the sanctuary and assign to each man his work and what he is to carry. But the Kohathites (who were assigned to carry these things) must not go in to look at the holy things, even for a moment, or they will die." (Numbers 4:19, 20)
Later when the temple was built, a similar curtain divided the different parts of the sanctuary. Only one man each year was chosen to enter the Most Holy place, and only under certain terms and after being consecrated and prepared. He wore bells, because the knowledge that entering such a holy place could mean death was never far from the Israelites. They were an unholy people approaching a holy God. They were powerless to close the gap.
It had not always been this way. In the Garden of Eden, God had met with Adam and Eve face to face. He had spoken to them plainly, walked with them. No veil separated us then, no curtain kept us from his holiness. The gap that we are powerless to close we created ourselves. Sin placed the curtain between us. Sin made us unholy, unable to be with him in his holiness.
Even with all of the rituals and laws and sacrifices, we were inadequate to see him face to face. A curtain remained between God and his people. We could not be made holy by our own actions. We were powerless.
All along, there were whispers of Jesus. All along, there was a plan.
"With a loud cry, Jesus breathed his last. The curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom." Mark 15: 37
It's such a short sentence, sometimes I forget it's there. Why? Why the curtain? Why at this moment? This was no dramatic flair, no show of force, no happenstance moment. This was the final chapter of Numbers, of Deuteronomy, of Chronicles, of all the centuries that came before. This was what was always intended: God with man, face to face. The unholy in the presence of the Holy of Holies. No curtain. No veil. The gap, closed. The curtain, torn.
God had made a way. The holy place was no longer off limits to us. Jesus, in his death for us, had made us holy. We were no longer regarded as our own, but as his. And as his, we were perfect, without blemish, holy. Our currency was the same. Our language, that of Heaven. We were justified, made righteous. We were no longer separated.
Paul describes this transaction in Hebrews and closes with this truth, "...Since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful." (Hebrews 10:19-23)
The curtain was torn from top to bottom. No shred of it remains to hold us back. Nothing to keep us from his holiness, from his fullness.
Face to face with Holiness itself.
