Remove the Veils
Preparing for Lent with Transfiguration Sunday
Moses came down from Mount Sinai. As he came down from the mountain with the two tablets of the covenant in his hand, Moses did not know that the skin of his face shone because he had been talking with God.
Afterward, all the Israelites came near, and he gave them in commandment all that the Lord had spoken with him on Mount Sinai. When Moses had finished speaking with them, he put a veil on his face, but whenever Moses went in before the Lord to speak with him, he would take the veil off, until he came out; and when he came out, and told the Israelites what he had been commanded, the Israelites would see the face of Moses, that the skin of his face was shining, and Moses would put the veil on his face again until he went in to speak with him.
Exodus 34:29, 32-35
Jesus took with him Peter and John and James and went up on the mountain to pray.
While he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became as bright as a flash of lightning. Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. They appeared in glory and were speaking about his exodus, which he was about to fulfill in Jerusalem.
Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep, but as they awoke they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, “Master, it is good for us to be here; let us set up three tabernacles: one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah,” not realizing what he was saying. While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them, and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!”
Luke 9:28-35
And all of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another, for this comes from the Lord, the Spirit.
2 Cor 3:16-18
The disciples thought they knew.
They thought they knew who they were dealing with: teacher, healer, miracle worker. They thought they had just gone on a nice, chill hike to get away for the day and pray with their favorite rabbi. They thought they knew. They still had a veil.
Moses went up to receive the Law, and when he came back to the people, he had to put a veil on. The Law itself was a kind of veil, a mediation—something that allowed them to relate to the Almighty God. Moses went up to receive the Torah written on stone. The disciples went up not knowing they would receive Christ, the Author, in their hearts.
In the midst of the glow, you can hardly blame Peter for thinking, “Let’s build you a tabernacle.” That was the place where the Holy of Holies was supposed to be. Another veil, not out of bad intentions, but respect, honor, even self-protection.
They didn’t know that God was done with veils.
Why is Transfiguration Sunday always right before Lent? Because if the apostles were slow learners about who Jesus was and where he was to be, so are we. Throughout Epiphany all the way back to Christmas, we have re-learned more and more pieces of the puzzle of Christ’s divinity like they did in real time. This moment on Mount Tabor (as tradition says) was the real kicker.
Without our hindsight, we can forgive the budding apostles for not knowing who was in their midst. The idea that you could directly approach God, share in His presence, and leave unscathed was unheard of to these men of the Covenant. They didn’t know that while they had been hiking up to pray, God had long been traveling down to meet them—to be with us. He came as a baby into the stables with us, into an insane political environment with us, into religious corruption with us, into the waters of baptism with us. And he would keep going all the way, fully into our lives and fully into our death, so that he might bring us all back with him on the way back up.
So that day on the mountain, the Lord was getting closer. They still wouldn’t fully know all of who he was until later. But now they knew he had the blinding, awe-inspiring, and terror-inducing power of God. If you’ve ever brushed with that divine power, maybe you recognize Peter’s desire within yourself to get something familiar back between them and the Living God. As he knew, many had tried to face God directly, through pride and accident, only to die.
But before the word “tabernacle” had scarcely left his lips, they were caught in the cloud, surrounded by pure Light. It must have been a shock once they realized they didn’t die. Maybe they even felt more alive than they knew was possible. With their eyesight overwhelmed, purified, and blanched, there came a command, the pure Word, clear, and simple, and true: “Listen to him.”
The veils were gone. They no longer needed layers of mediators upon mediators; they had his Son. And not only was there this radical idea that you could be in the Lord’s glory and not die, now he wants to abide in you.1 It was as if God was saying, “Listen to him…for you are the tabernacle. Your heart is the holy of holies. Follow him.”
As we get ready for Lent, we are preparing ourselves to more fully listen to him and to let him abide in us more and more.2 We are reminded that yes, God is still God—powerful, scary, blinding, awe-inspiring—and yet he wants to be closer to you. He’s inviting you into his presence, and he’s making his presence in you.
But we are who we are, and we have put veils back up. What are yours? Probably not a literal tabernacle (I’ve seen many of your backyards). But in the days and weeks to come as we think about our different commitments and re-orientations for Lent, this season of devotion, we are invited to remove the veils that we have put up between us and God. Maybe some of those veils once served a purpose for us in our lives. Maybe some were coping mechanisms, some kept us at a “safe” distance, some may even be religious in nature, while others are pure flesh and sin. Whatever they may be, now is the time when we look at anything that keeps us removed from his presence.
As we remove those veils, we are also invited—like disciples going on a hike—to seek his presence. Lent is not just about removing veils but also about adding things that help rebuild our relationship with Jesus, which begins with that one word: listen. That may be renewing our commitment to prayer, renewing our devotional Bible time, or other spiritual disciplines. We are looking not for complex strategies, but for simple things that bring us more in tune with his presence. Listen. Not just so that we can bask in his light, but that we may be, as Paul says, more “transformed into the same image [as Jesus] from one degree of glory to another” (2 Cor 3:18), and in turn, serving one another as fellow image-bearers.
In Lent, we take note of the different veils, tents, and screens (of all kinds) we have put between us and God. Maybe we think he still lives somewhere else, like just in the sanctuary on Sundays, or just in the wooden corridors of the forests, or just in that dusty Bible on the coffee table, or just in that really holy friend of ours. Maybe you’re so distracted and your attention so captured that you’re not even thinking of this at all because you’re too busy being wrapped up in all the flaps and poles of your life’s tents like a nightmare camping trip.
But God doesn’t want to live in a tent. Jesus wants to live in your heart.
So as you prepare to prepare, what are the veils you can take down?
What can you do to prepare the Way and make it simpler?
Because it is often simpler than we make it. Do we know? Or are we still veiled?
The light of Christ is shining in you. Maybe you’ve veiled him from shining in all of the corners of your heart, but he is shining so bright in you. He did not come to be in some place else. He came to be with you. He came to abide in you. Don’t block the Light. Just listen.
John 15:4
Thanks to At Home With The Lectionary for the discussion on the Transfiguration and Lent in generating ideas.