Behind the Veil

  "As was the custom of the of the priests, he (Zechariah, the father of John the Baptist) was chosen by lot to enter the sanctuary of the Lord and burn incense." Luke 1:9

  I found myself amalgamating a couple of stories in thinking about Zechariah. It is in stark contrast to the one where Jesus overturned the tables in the courtyard of the same temple Zechariah had entered decades earlier. While there's no mention of them in Z's brief part in the story of Jesus, I bet they were there.

  There's only fragments of lessons learned about the temple itself. There was the public courtyard, the inner courtyard, stairs leading to the entry and a veil that guarded the door. The same veil Jesus tore with His crucifixion and death.

  

  I've been listening to Jordan Peterson a lot over the last little while. His YouTube teaching is life giving and affirming for someone working to break free of the cage narcissistic abuse creates. That's where the temple comes into play.

  

  I imagined walking into the courtyard. It is full of salespeople pitching their livestock, nearly perfect for the slaughter. If one isn't quite perfect, they have another, more expensive animal. The money lenders are loudly encouraging people to borrow money at criminal interest rates. It is the only way the desperate sinners could buy the ram, the calf, because a little pigeon could never wipe away the sins they committed. 

  Can you hear them? The lies? The guilt laid on thick? 

  The judgement?

  Can you hear the chaos of a thousand voices, each trying to be heard?

  But I am a believer. I have no need of livestock.

  The inner courtyard is an oasis, free from the stench of animals and crowds of people. There's still noise. Priests praying loudly, trying to outdo each other in holiness.

 

  But I am a believer. I have no need of such overt displays of righteousness.

  I climb the stairs towards the veil. I can hear the Lord calling to step into His sanctuary. I pull it back and step into the coolness of the shade. Silence is the only sound. 

  I enter into the stillness of my birthright.

  Because I am a believer and belong in this place of intimate conversation and connection. Where could be better but to be with the Lord, the Creator of all things, who breathed life into my mother's womb. In the stillness I feel Jesus wrap His arms around my soul and peace comes.

  It's a peace that will need protecting. It will require learning to speak a new language: the one of unbreakable boundaries. It will require forgiveness and repentance. It will require time to break the bars of a cage that is still very much a part of my life.

  But best of all, behind the veil I experience joy because I left the money changers, the liars and the thieves behind.