The Veil of the Temple

Palm Sunday 2012
“The Veil of the Temple…”
Rev. Stephen E. Stults
St. Barnabas Anglican Church
Palm Sunday, March 28, 2010

We hope and pray that this Lent, your Lent, has been productive and rewarding. I pray that it has yielded some spiritual fruit that has been a blessing for you. After all, this is what Lent is all about, preparing your soul for the upcoming Paschal joy. We sincerely hope that this Lent has been meaningful, worthwhile and joyful. If the Lord has blessed you in any of these ways, it is very good.

Now, we are on the threshold of another church season. Without, we pray, overstating the obvious, it is the season that defines Christianity, We are now preparing, in earnest, for the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. We are getting ready for the spiritually rich and blessed season of Easter. While it is materially poor when compared with Christmas, it is the more blessed of the seasons simply because it is the raison d’etre for Christianity, its very reason to be.

Today, in preparation for this penultimate feast of Christianity, we read the long and moving Gospel from St. Luke. It details the horrific events that led up to the pre-ordained betrayal, torture and death of Jesus Christ. We say “pre-ordained” because we know the Jesus’ sojourn in the grave was ordained before the world itself was made, as stated in Revelation 13:8. This verse speaks of “the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world.” We brush aside claims from people like Bp. John Spong, who claim that Christ’s offering proves that God is “bloodthirsty”, as simply humanist statements of dis-belief. We reject concepts of Christ as merely the “great teacher” who taught men by example. In fact, we reject anything that doesn’t own Christ for who He is: our Lord and God. When we fully embrace this, we can begin to understand, just a bit, the enormity of His sacrifice.

We get a vivid picture of this as read, with trembling hearts and kindled spirits, the crucifixion account given by Luke. Although we will not focus on its gruesome details today, suffice it to be known that it was a terrible torture-death that only the methodical and efficient Romans could perfect.

Before we come to the scene of Christ before Pilate, we hear of the repentance of Judas Iscariot. When Judas saw that Jesus was condemned, he was stricken with remorse and tried to return the betrayal money. He says, perhaps plaintively, (Matthew 27:4) “I have sinned in that I have betrayed the innocent blood.” To this, he receives the cold reply, (Matthew 27:4) “What is that to us? see thou to that.” To co-opt Lenin’s statement about those who unwittingly aided the Bolshevik cause in the 1917 Revolution in Russia, Judas was simply a “useful fool” for the wicked Pharisees to use.
The scene shifts abruptly to portray Jesus standing before the Roman Procurator, Pontius Pilate. When questioned by Pilate as to his claim to kingship, Jesus simply says, “You have said so.” As the charges mount against Jesus, He is silent, so much that even the hardened bureaucrat marvels at it. He is evidently quite curious why Jesus does not defend himself. He then offers the crowd the traditional Passover appeasement, that of the release of a prisoner. Interestingly, Luke has him even attempt to release Jesus, because he sees the ridiculousness of the charges against Him.
This makes Pilate seem almost heroic, as he tries, perhaps feebly, to free Jesus. One must ask, however, what kind of man was Pontius Pilate, really? Some ancient Jewish sources give us a hint. For example one sources says, “In describing his personality, Philo writes that Pilate had "vindictiveness and furious temper," and was "naturally inflexible, a blend of self-will and relentlessness." He writes that Pilate feared a delegation that the Jews might send to Tiberius protesting the gold-coated shields, because "if they actually sent an embassy they would also expose the rest of his conduct as governor by stating in full the briberies, the insults, the robberies, the outrages and wanton injuries, the executions without trial constantly repeated, the ceaseless and supremely grievous cruelty." It seems that earlier, as a tribute to Tiberius, Pilate had placed several gold-plated Roman shields in the Temple, over which the Jews had raised a tremendous uproar, eventually writing the Emperor himself, who castigated Pilate roundly for being so insensitive to Jewish customs.
We learn that Pilate's term as prefect of Judaea ended after an incident recounted by Josephus. A large group of Samaritans had been persuaded by an unnamed man to go to Mount Gerizim in order to see sacred artifacts allegedly buried by Moses. But at a village named Tirathana, before the crowd could ascend the mountain, Pilate sent in "a detachment of cavalry and heavy-armed infantry, who in an encounter with the firstcomers in the village slew some in a pitched battle and put the others to flight. Many prisoners were taken, of whom Pilate put to death the principal leaders and those who were most influential."[28] The Samaritans then complained to Vitellius, Roman governor of Syria, who sent Pilate to Rome to explain his actions regarding this incident to Tiberius. However, by the time Pilate got to Rome, Tiberius had died.[29]
As to Pilate’s fate, “Eusebius (Historia Ecclesiae ii: 7) quotes some early apocryphal accounts that he does not name, which already relate that Pilate fell under misfortunes in the reign of Caligula (37–41), was exiled to Gaul and eventually committed suicide there in Vienne.”

This was Pontius Pilate, a tough Roman administrator who had, arguably, one of the tougher posts to govern. Imagine trying to keep a restive population of Jews, including Pharisees and Zealots, in line. Imagine the discussions, complaints and petitions he endured daily.
Now, imagine this tough soldier-governor confronted with the phenomenon of Jesus. He sees a man, simply garbed, silent, who answers nothing to the multitude of false charges leveled against him. Pilate even says so to Christ, as he stands impassively by while the lies pile up against him. This goes on and on, until their false testimony is finally over.

Pilate then offers the crowd a substitute, as was the custom of the Romans at Passover. As a sop to the Jews, the Roman procurator usually released one prisoner to the crowd. He offers them a known terrorist and revolutionary names Barabbas, who had been arrested for fomenting rebellion against the Romans, and who had committed murder during this activity. This seems a just exchange, a just man who had healed many and who had done no wrong whatsoever for a murdering rebel.
As we know, however, the Pharisees and others of the priestly class would have none of it. They obviously used their authority and presence to persuade the mob to ask for Barabbas and deliver Jesus to the tender mercies of the Romans.

Now, we come to the very crux of human sin. Fueled by fear and envy, the chief priests have their way and Jesus is led away to die upon the cross in unspeakable agony. His death would take several hours. If it were even possible to make matters worse, the same chief priests walked by the place of crucifixion clucking their tongues and mocking Jesus, as he hung on the cross, fighting for every breath. The completely sinless man suffers for a debased and corrupt population. This perfect and sinless man suffered for all of us. This perfect and sinless man died for the very same people who celebrated His entry into Jerusalem just a few days earlier. Then, they had cried “Hosanna to the Son of David.” Now, the cry is, “Barabbas, give us Barabbas!”

The gruesome scene continues with the last horrible event Christ must face. Hanging upon the Cross, he assumes the sin of mankind into His perfect and sinless self. He is offering Himself for the sins of mankind, and in so doing must face the ultimate humiliation and alienation. Figuratively speaking, as the sin entered into Christ, God the Father turned his face away. In other words, The Absolute and Holy God could not look on sin, and thus for a while, could not look on His Son. For a little while, from the time of this absorption of sin until his physical death upon the cross, Jesus was utterly alone. Thus, the One who was God and yet Son, Man and yet God, felt the awesome and horrible feeling of desolation. Can you imagine? Probably not. No one but Christ will ever know what the weight of the world’s sin feels like. Even those unfortunate souls who willfully reject God willfully throughout their earthly life, and suffer separation from Him for eternity, will ever know. They will, sadly know the agony of separation from God, but they only have to bear their own sins, not those of all mankind.

This alienation prompts the heart-rending, soul-piercing cry of “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?” (“My God, my God, what hast Thou forsaken me?”) Jesus is alone and He knows it to the very fiber of his being. He is desolate.

Misinterpreted or misunderstood by the onlookers, one says that Jesus “calls for Elias”, or John. This is followed by one taking a sponge on a stick and offering Christ a drink of sour wine, or wine turned to vinegar. Christ accepted this humble drink in order to fulfill the prophecy of Psalm 69:21 “1 They gave me also gall for my meat; and in my thirst they gave me vinegar to drink.”

It is at this point that Jesus has fulfilled all prophecy. In the book of John, we read, (John 19:30): “When Jesus therefore had received the sour wine, He said, "It is finished!" And He bowed His head, and gave up His spirit.” He has completed the monumental, universal task appointed him and he retires from this earthly life.

It is at this point that amazing things begin to happen. The earth quakes, the veil of the Temple splits from top to bottom, and the graves of “the saints”, or various holy people were opened. They arose from the dead and appeared “unto many” in Jerusalem.

All of these events are amazing. They all show God’s displeasure and illustrate the cataclysmic nature of the Crucifixion. There is one event, however, on which we should focus briefly to understand what had just happened. That event is the splitting of the Temple Veil from top to bottom. The veil, you will recall, was the one that separated the congregation from the Holy of Holies. It was the same veil that the High Priest passed through one time a year, not without sacrificial blood.

The significance for us is that Christ’s death caused the split. In other words, in a real, tangible way, we actually see the separation of man from God being taking away. Just as the veil of the temple was taken away, so is our separation from God, caused by sin, taken away though Christ.

This is amazing and wonderful. It prompts us to ask the question: is there still a veil over our hearts concerning Christ? Have we truly accepted Him as our Lord and Savior? Have we, without reserve, totally rested our souls in Him? Have we acknowledged that there is but one way to the Father, and that way is Christ?

Glory be to God if these statements apply equally to you. May you rest in Christ in peace, love, and joy. If you still have some reserve, let me urge you to cast that away this week. Cast it away and allow the profound truth of Jesus Christ into your life. This is the week for a complete renewal of our faith. This is the week in which our sinful separation from God was wiped away.
Glory be to God the Father, and to God the Son and God the Holy Ghost, now and forever. AMEN