And Jesus uttered a loud cry, and breathed His last. And the veil of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. When the centurion, who was standing right in front of Him, saw the way He breathed His last, he said, ‘Truly this man was the Son of God!’

Mark 15:37–39 

Jesus’ lifeless body hung limp on a cross—the death the religious leaders had longed to see, an execution they had plotted for some time.[1] The “King of the Jews” was dead.

Theologically, Jesus’ substitutionary atonement was finished. He had expiated sin by becoming the sinner’s substitute. He had propitiated God’s wrath by bearing it in full. He had fulfilled the Day of Atonement imagery, completed the Passover Lamb symbolism, and finished the vicarious sacrifices pictured throughout Israel’s history. He had redeemed His people out of Satan’s domain with His blood.[2]

Atonement, expiation, propitiation, sacrifice, redemption—these are glorious truths that summarize Christ’s saving Gospel. But none of those accomplishments were visible to the human eye when Christ “breathed His last” (Mark 15:37). To the crowd, Jesus was an executed criminal. To the religious leaders, He was a crucified blasphemer. For His closest followers, He was a lifeless loved one.

And yet, a half mile from Christ’s cross, in the inner sanctum of Jerusalem’s temple, God the Father made visible the saving triumph of His Son. A veil, torn in two—a miraculous sign of the reconciliation Christ had achieved for His people.

Enemies Made Friends

Reconciliation is the relational result of Christ’s saving work. Because Christ exhausted His Father’s wrath for sin and lived the perfect life for the sinner, God is freed to welcome, as friends, those who were once His enemies.

John Piper calls this gift “the ultimate good in the good news.” Why? Because, unlike atonement, expiation, propitiation, sacrifice, and redemption, reconciliation “brings us to God” (1 Peter 3:18). I’ll let Piper explain:

What is the ultimate good in the good news? It all ends in one thing: God Himself. All the words of the gospel lead to Him, or they are not gospel. For example, salvation is not good news if it only saves from Hell and not for God. Forgiveness is not good news if it only gives relief from guilt and doesn’t open the way to God. Justification is not good news if it only makes us legally acceptable to God but doesn’t bring fellowship with God. Redemption is not good news if it only liberates us from bondage but doesn’t bring us to God.[3]

What, then, is the good news of the Gospel? Reconciliation—isolation removed, fellowship restored, and access granted. 

Banished from the Garden

Genesis 3 graphically displays why mankind needs this “ultimate good in the good news.” Not only did Adam and Eve hide themselves, in shame and sin, from God’s presence; but even worse, God evicted them from His presence, in anger and judgment, because of their rebellion. Reconciliation was needed, not only because of mankind’s hostility toward God, but because of God’s hostility toward man.[4]

And do not miss the geographical note at the end of Genesis 3 is key. God banished His disobedient creation to “the east of the garden of Eden” (Genesis 2:23)—a detail that continues throughout the book, a constant reminder of the Fall’s ever-present consequence. “Cain went out from the presence of the Lord and settled…east of Eden” (Genesis 4:16). Rebellious mankind “journeyed east…and settled there” (Genesis 11:2). Lot “journeyed east” (Genesis 13:11). Jacob met Rachel “in the land of the sons of the east” (Genesis 29:1). What is the point? Mankind is not getting closer to God; he is moving farther from Him.

A Sword-Wielding Angel

But even if Adam and Eve wanted to return to God’s presence, God made sure it could not have happened. He stationed a flaming-sword-wielding angel to forbid any entry back into the garden (Genesis 3:23)—a detail God would not let Israel forget.[5]

Not only was sinful man moving “to the east”—away from God—but God was unapproachable, even if the sinner chose to return.

A Woven Warning

In fact, God’s unapproachableness was why the tabernacle (and later, the temple) was constructed the way it was. There were two sections to the temple, each requiring a certain sacrifice to enter. First, there was the Holy Place where only the priests could enter. Second, there was the Holy of Holies that only the high priest could see—and only once per year, and only after following a prescribed ritual. Each restriction, a reminder of mankind’s forfeiture of God’s presence in Genesis 3.

But the temple’s symbolism of Adam and Eve’s expulsion was more than general. Between the Holy Place and the Holy of Holies hung a veil (another barrier) that separated the two rooms. It was a massive curtain, ninety feet tall and thirty feet wide, held by hooks of gold from four pillars. It was made of blue, white, scarlet, and purple fabric. But it wasn’t the color that was the warning. Or its height. It was the cherubim woven into its fabric—the protectors of God’s holy presence ever since the Fall of Man.

The veil was a warning: This far and no farther—even for the high priest of Israel.

But, at the moment Jesus “breathed His last”—that warning was no more—“the veil of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom” (Mark 15:37-38), exposing the Holy of Holies for all to see.

Grasp how startling this scene would have been—how frightening!

It is three o’clock in the afternoon, the hour, therefore, when the Israelites assembled in its sacred courts for the evening sacrifice. The priests begin their customary duties, when at the very moment in which Christ on Calvary exclaims, “Father into thy hands I commit my spirit!” who can describe the astonishment of the sons of Aaron! The thickly-woven heavy veil, without being touched by any human hand, is rent in twain, in the midst from the top to the bottom, and the mercy seat with the ark of the covenant and the golden cherubim…stands suddenly naked and unveiled to the view of everyone.[6]

Can you imagine the priests’ fear? Can you imagine the people’s fright? None had ever seen that inner court. And now none of them thought they would live to tell about it.

Torn from Top to Bottom

The way Mark’s Gospel frames this miracle shows exactly what the miracle meant. The word “torn” occurs only two times in Mark. The first was at Jesus’ baptism when “the heavens were torn open” (Mark 1:10)—when God (in the person of Christ) came to man. The second is how Mark chose to close His Gospel—with a torn veil, symbolic that man can now come to God.[7]

“From top to bottom” (Mark 15:38) meant that this was God’s doing—the Father’s sign that Christ’s atoning, expiating, propitiating, and redeeming sacrifice had been accepted; that the Old Covenant of separation had ended and the New Covenant of reconciliation had begun.

If the woven veil warned, “This far and no farther,” then the torn curtain promised, “Access granted, to all who come to Father through saving faith in His reconciling Son.”

Krumacher paints the picture well:

There is no longer any risk in casting ourselves into the hands of Him before whom even the angels are not pure. Put on the Lord Jesus Christ and then thou mayest boldly and with childlike confidence enter the Father’s holy habitation which henceforward stands open to thee day and night.[8]

 

The Ultimate Symbol of Reconciliation

What once declared distance now proclaims welcome. What sin had severed, Christ has restored. And instead of a flaming sword, there now hangs a torn veil—the perfect picture of Christ’s reconciling work. Sin atoned for, wrath satisfied, and fellowship restored. Forever.

 

References

[1] John 5:18; 7:1; 11:53.

[2] Ephesians 1:7.

[3] John Piper, Fifty Reasons Why Jesus Came to Die (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2006), 62.

[4] “Some scholars have tried to soften this idea…They think…that God has no enmity toward sinners. But that is biblically wrong. Scores of Scripture verses speak of God’s anger with the wicked. In sin, man is the enemy of God and vice versa.” John Frame, Systematic Theology  (P&R Publishing: New Jersey, 2013), 903. See Psalm 5:5; 11:5.

[5] In the Holy of Holies lay Israel’s ark of the covenant: the golden box that housed God’s Law, the symbol of His holy presence. Upon that box were two carved cherubim, each with outstretched wings covering the top of the ark—a chiseled reminder of the Genesis 3 scene.

[6] F.W. Krumacher, The Suffering Savior (Wipf and Stock Publishers, Eugene: 2002), 411.

[7] In both instances, the verb is in the passive voice, indicating that each act was God’s doing.

[8] Krumacher, 412.