That torn curtain

I wonder what impacted you afresh this past Easter about Jesus’ journey to the cross and his resurrection. Each year, I find myself thinking there will be nothing new I can possibly discover in the various gospel accounts of those events. And, each year, God surprises me all over again with some fresh insight that makes me stop and reflect on my own life or on our world in general.

When our youth pastor spoke at our church on Good Friday, he described the cataclysmic events that occurred when Jesus actually gave up his spirit and died on the cross. I had forgotten these events and my imagination went into overdrive when he referred to the various things that happened, as recorded in Matthew’s Gospel:

Then Jesus shouted out again, and he released his spirit. At that moment the curtain in the sanctuary of the Temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. The earth shook, rocks split apart, and tombs opened. The bodies of many godly men and women who had died were raised from the dead. They left the cemetery after Jesus’ resurrection, went into the holy city of Jerusalem, and appeared to many people. Matthew 27:50-53NLT

Wow! Imagine being there and experiencing the earth shaking and rocks splitting apart—not to mention tombs opening. Surely there must have been chaos all around at that point as people fled one way and another in fear. Perhaps some thought it was a random natural disaster, yet others came to a different conclusion, as Matthew’s Gospel goes on to describe:

The Roman officer and the other soldiers at the crucifixion were terrified by the earthquake and all that had happened. They said, “This man truly was the Son of God!” Matthew 27:54NLT

But what about that torn curtain? It was probably huge and heavy, being an important curtain that separated the people from the holiest place in the temple. Was it somehow fixed or replaced before the special Sabbath Passover service there the day after Jesus was crucified? Or was it cobbled together in a way that the people still noticed? Did any of those present begin to think about the significance of that torn curtain and relate it to Jesus’ death? Surely, they must at least have wondered how this could happen. Or did they merely put it down to earthquake damage?

One day we will understand more. But for now, imagining this event was enough to challenge me to think about the momentous difference Jesus’ death has made in my own life and in the life of all who believe in him. Through his death on our behalf, Jesus broke the power of sin and death over each one of us. Through shedding his blood, Jesus opened up the way for us to draw close to our holy God again, enabling us to stand in God’s very presence and know we are completely forgiven, perfectly loved and wholly accepted. The barrier has come down. The curtain has been torn in two—and we are free to approach God, knowing we will not be turned away.

What an awesome privilege—and what an awesome Saviour we have! May we each from the bottom of our hearts freely declare, along with those soldiers, ‘This man truly was the Son of God!’

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The bottom line

I love Easter. To me, it’s as if God is extra close all around. It’s as if Jesus is reaching down through the centuries since he hung on that cross, looking straight at me, willing me to see the love and forgiveness in his own soul as he looks deep into mine. And it’s also as if God is crying out to a world that is rushing on, heedless, ‘Listen—all of you! Remember what my Son did for you. And remember and celebrate that death could not hold him down. Remember the price that bought your freedom!

On Easter Sunday, I received an email from a friend who lives in a country where most of the population do not celebrate Easter. She shared with me how, when life is continuing as usual around her, it feels a little surreal to be celebrating events that others do not acknowledge. Yet, the true meaning of Easter is so much a part of her that she still goes ahead and celebrates it with great joy. Meanwhile, here in Australia, I was free to attend any number of church services, as well as see family members and delight in buying those Easter eggs for our grandchildren (with a few stray ones making their way into grown-up hands too!). But best of all for me are those moments of quiet reflection, alone in the presence of God.

This year, I decided to read the account of the crucifixion from John’s Gospel. I read how Judas betrayed his Lord in that olive grove, how Jesus was brought before Annas, how Peter denied him for the first time, how Jesus was bound and sent to appear before the high priest Caiaphas and how Peter then denied him twice more. I read with increasing horror how Pilate, despite believing Jesus to be innocent and wanting to set him free, had him flogged, then caved into pressure and handed him over to the people to be crucified. I read how Jesus was nailed to that cross, with a mocking sign above his head, and how he died—for you and me.

And on Good Friday night, as I went to bed, the result of all this struck me with almost overwhelming force and simplicity all over again. This means I’m saved—completely and forever! The realisation was so strong that I almost shouted the words out loud, until I realised my husband might not be impressed with this revelation as he lay there, trying to get to sleep! ‘I’m saved’ is such a hackneyed phrase—one that is even ridiculed at times. But this to me is the bottom line of our Easter celebrations—we are indeed saved from the consequences of our desire to go our own way by Jesus’ death on that cross. We have a whole new start in life and our relationship with God is restored. And one day, because Jesus conquered death and rose again, we too will rise and be with him in heaven forever.

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. John 3:16

Now that’s a bottom line I find absolutely mind-blowing and well worth celebrating—not only at Easter but all the time. How about you?

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