The Lifting of the Veil

“And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.” —2 Corinthians 3:18 (NIV)

Last evening, I sat beside a faithful servant of Christ in what was likely her final hours—or perhaps her final days. As I watched her gentle breathing, I sensed a peace that felt holy. It was as if the veil between this life and the next was already beginning to lift, gently, quietly, in the presence of God.

Scripture speaks often of veils. Moses covered his face after encountering God, for the people could not bear the radiance of divine glory (Exodus 34:29–35). A veil hung in the Tabernacle, separating the Holy of Holies—the place of God’s presence—from the people (Exodus 26:33). And at the moment of Jesus’ death, that veil was torn in two (Matthew 27:51), a sign that the barrier between God and humanity had been removed.

Still, we do not yet see fully. Sin, fear, and earthly frailty veil our vision. But in Christ, the veil is lifted—not just from the temple, but from our hearts. We are invited to gaze upon the glory of the Lord not as outsiders, but as beloved ones being changed from the inside out.

This transformation is not a performance. It is not a sudden lifting of a stage curtain, but a slow, Spirit-led becoming. We are not asked to perfect ourselves, but to behold—to turn our faces toward the light and let it do its work. The glory we contemplate is not distant or abstract; it is the glory of love, mercy, and truth made flesh.

And so, for those who earnestly follow Christ, the veil lifts a little more each day. Every moment spent in prayer, in Scripture, in love of neighbor, is a moment of unveiling. And when the final veil is lifted—whether today or in the fullness of time—we shall see face to face (1 Corinthians 13:12).

Today, let us pause and lift our faces. Let us behold the glory of the Lord—not with striving, but with trust. And let us remember: the Spirit is at work in us, shaping us into the image of Christ, one gentle moment at a time.

God of mercy and mystery, you meet us in the quiet hours, when the veil between heaven and earth feels thin. Lift the veil from our hearts, moment by moment,

until the final veil is lifted and we rest in your radiant presence, face to face, forever.

Amen.

Peace & Grace,

Pastor Tim