Bobby and I have the blessing of teaching the 1st-6th graders at our church every other month. This past month their lessons have been on the Christmas story, which surprised me. But by the end of preparing for lesson one, I realized where the curriculum writers were heading, and it made me appreciate the story in a new way. The emphasis was on the deity of Christ...not his humanity. As each lesson progressed through a few highlights of Christ's life, all which emphasized his deity, both from his claims, actions, and the accusation of the Jewish leaders and people, it ended with the importance of the fabric ripping in the temple.
We backtracked and talked about that veil or curtain and its importance. We reminisced about the Holy of Holies (Exodus 26:31-34)and how only the High Priest could enter God's presence and offer requests on behalf of the people. (And at that point, their little brains kicked into high gear and went rampant with questions about the Ark of the Covenant that I could not answer or there are simply no concrete answers on ...Does the ark still exist? Where do you think it is? What about what's inside it? Would someone die today if they touched it since the veil is torn? How many people died for touching it in the Bible and why? etc)
I don't think the kids were/are as fascinated about the curtain veil being torn as I am/was. I don't like torn fabric. There's a quilt/sewing shop in Cary that rips their fabric (on their behalf, it does make sure the fabric is lined up exactly on the grain as it tears on the thread line) and I hate it. It makes the edge of the fabric flare or fan out; it gives it a stretched look, and it always makes me feel like the fabric has been desecrated.
Had a man entered the temple and torn the fabric, the direction of the tear would have been a little different. The stretch would start on the bottom of the fabric. The fact that God almighty tore this fabric from his direction downward, signifying I no longer needed an appointed man to talk on my behalf is HUGE. Because of Christ's deity and sacrifice on my behalf, I can pour my heart out to him whenever I desire. When I sin, I don't need to offer a blood sacrifice, or tell it to anyone else, but can communicate with Him directly. No more middle man business. Cut straight to the chase.
Do I like the fact that beautiful blue and purple and scarlet material (was it woven together, or the thread strands simply twisted together like yarn?), embroidered by a "professional" seamstress with cherubin all over was torn in two? No. As a quilter who struggles with straight edges and handwork, I would find that horrifying. But the significance of that turn curtain, hand-made, is awesome.
Of all the fabrics and fashion statements made throughout the Easter story, this one is my favorite.
It was now about the sixth hour, and darkness fell over the whole land until the ninth hour, 45 because the sun was obscured; and the veil of the temple was torn in two. 46 And Jesus, crying out with a loud voice, said,“Father, into Your hands I commit My spirit.” Having said this, He breathed His last. ~ Luke 23:44-46 (NASB)
We backtracked and talked about that veil or curtain and its importance. We reminisced about the Holy of Holies (Exodus 26:31-34)and how only the High Priest could enter God's presence and offer requests on behalf of the people. (And at that point, their little brains kicked into high gear and went rampant with questions about the Ark of the Covenant that I could not answer or there are simply no concrete answers on ...Does the ark still exist? Where do you think it is? What about what's inside it? Would someone die today if they touched it since the veil is torn? How many people died for touching it in the Bible and why? etc)
I don't think the kids were/are as fascinated about the curtain veil being torn as I am/was. I don't like torn fabric. There's a quilt/sewing shop in Cary that rips their fabric (on their behalf, it does make sure the fabric is lined up exactly on the grain as it tears on the thread line) and I hate it. It makes the edge of the fabric flare or fan out; it gives it a stretched look, and it always makes me feel like the fabric has been desecrated.
51 And behold, the veil of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom; and the earth shook and the rocks were split. ~ Matthew 27:51
Had a man entered the temple and torn the fabric, the direction of the tear would have been a little different. The stretch would start on the bottom of the fabric. The fact that God almighty tore this fabric from his direction downward, signifying I no longer needed an appointed man to talk on my behalf is HUGE. Because of Christ's deity and sacrifice on my behalf, I can pour my heart out to him whenever I desire. When I sin, I don't need to offer a blood sacrifice, or tell it to anyone else, but can communicate with Him directly. No more middle man business. Cut straight to the chase.
Do I like the fact that beautiful blue and purple and scarlet material (was it woven together, or the thread strands simply twisted together like yarn?), embroidered by a "professional" seamstress with cherubin all over was torn in two? No. As a quilter who struggles with straight edges and handwork, I would find that horrifying. But the significance of that turn curtain, hand-made, is awesome.
Of all the fabrics and fashion statements made throughout the Easter story, this one is my favorite.
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