The Veil

        The veil hung, a thick, impenetrable curtain, a barrier barring passage between the windowless inner and outer rooms.  The only light emanated from a single candle perched aloft a brass holder, which stood just before the curtain.  Heavy, dark fabric absorbed the smallest swish of sound, the softest utterance, the very heartbeat of all who dared approach.  A hush resided there, in the outer room; a reverent awe that demanded silence, upon pain of death.  No human words could express the expectation of what the inner room held, out of reach, beyond imagination.  On this day, stillness stood taught like a wound spring, straining against time, waiting, waiting…

       In the distance, outside the holy city, the serpent leaned forward with the crowd, undulating, dead eyes sucking in the suffering of his prey, a black hole of evil desire, while the Son of David cried out.  The crowd grew silent, unable to tear their collective eyes from the bleeding, repulsive, beautiful face of the dying King.  A Roman guard took a step back, his face pale.  Glancing to his left, his eyes locked with the serpent’s for a brief moment.  Shuddering, he wrenched his eyes back to the King who would be Man, the Man who would be King.  The scent of rain and sulfur rode in on the vagrant wind, like a chariot pulled by swift and mighty horses.  The crowd stood, entranced, as black clouds arrived in attendance of the single most important event in all of man’s history.  Time eternal knelt and silently wept at the darkness of the hour.

       As Father and Son were rent apart, there arose from the twilight that encamped about the hill a vile chorus of celebration, like a pack of buzzards in the throws of a newfound carrion feast.  The serpent gloried in the moment.

       Wrong and Right collided in that moment and merged, like the violent shaking together of oil and water, while a chill ran its icy fingers down the spine of the universe.

       A fatal wound is often not felt…

       The serpent turned.  A sound pierced his ears.  Sudden uncertainty painted his face.  His twisted mind unraveled.  The howling minions choked on their glee…Time slowed.  Sound amplified.  The ground shook.  The impenetrable veil rent from top to bottom as the Man-King spoke, “It is finished!”

He is Risen!