She turned the corner he saw her and his breathing stopped.  Her form was a silhouette against the stained glass behind her, when she moved forward his heart beat faster.  She was beautiful and she was giving herself to him today.  She glided down the aisle and the light illuminated her dress.  He could hardly wait for her to come to his side.  In a few moments he would lift the veil, and kiss the woman he loved.

The veil separated them, though it was only a sheer fabric.  It was enough to obscure his view.  They stood face to face, and still could not see each other the way that they would soon.  For a moment she felt fear; what would he feel when he sees her?  Then she rested in the fact that she spent the whole day, in some ways her whole life preparing for this moment.  As the veil lifted, He saw her face.  And she saw him. Looking in his eyes she saw herself, not as in a mirror, but in the look in his eyes.

The veil separates and obscures the view.  It hangs between the bride and the groom, waiting for the moment of unveiling.  The veil of the lovers’ ceremony is a visible picture of the veil we read about in Jesus’ own love story.  We read throughout the scriptures of this veil that obscures our view of reality.  And we think often of the day when the veil will be lifted, and we will see Him face to face.  But do we ever think of how He made it possible for the veil to be lifted?  Specifically, Jesus crossed over to our side of the veil first.

Jesus’ journey from heaven to earth spanned more than geography.  He moved from the realm of ultimate beauty into the things you most dislike about yourself.  The things we hope no one ever knows about us, He knew and, purposefully, lovingly stepped right into them.  The thing you are most ashamed of and most try to hide, even the thing that is most hidden to your eyes. He lifted the veil and entered in.

The thing that allows us to lift the veil and approach Him with confidence is the assurance that He already knows what is underneath.  And He finds us lovely.

Paul tells the Corinthian church that there is a veil over our heart when “Moses is read” and it is only removed when we turn to the Lord.  Does this mean we should avoid the Old Testament?  Certainly not.  Paul is referring to the Law.  In our world we must understand the law as a reference to our focus on external, human standards.  The Law is anything that provokes self-reliance and self-sufficiency.  It also provokes comparison.

Under the law we begin to measure ourselves and one another by external, temporary standards, we are blinded and this veil remains.  How do I look?  Am I performing well?  These kinds of questions provoke hiding.  Hiding our true condition and hiding our hearts.  We fear that someone may look past the surface, see the truth and reject us.  The veil provides a false sense of safety.  If others see dimly I may not be rejected.  When we read the law, measure by man’s standards of comparison we hide.

Now comes Jesus.  In case you did not know, it is worse behind your veil than you think.  Part of the effect of the veil is that it blinds even the one who wears it.  Behind your veil was more than a mess, it stinks.  The smell of death was there. Behind your veil are all the things you fear and more.

Without hesitation He plunged in.  Fully aware and with healing in His wings, He climbed behind the veil of His bride.  Not to point out flaws but to prepare her.  The bride fears that anyone might see behind the veil.  This was not just anyone, this was God, and He did not just see, he knew.  And He began to work.

Now look with me.

She turns the corner and His breathing stops.  As the two draw close, His heart beats faster.  He knows she is beautiful though she is wearing a veil He has seen her face before.  Finally, the two are face to face.  He reaches for the veil.  Her heart beats now.  She fears that when He sees her face, He will turn away.  She knows He is radiant and glorious.

But He spent His life preparing for this moment.  It is He who has been at work behind her veil, and she has no idea of all that has been accomplished.  She looks from behind the veil, afraid of the look in His eyes when He finally sees her face.  She feels a momentary wash of shame, and then He sees her unveiled.  She looks at Him and sees herself in His eyes.  Not as in a mirror, but she sees His response to her.  She is loved and cherished.  She rests in the fact that He sees her and looks pleased.

Bob Hamp