Beyond the Veil

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Long before dawn, still only half-awake from the dream, I dressed hurriedly. Carefully, I folded a tiny vial of blood and a fragment of unleavened bread into a square of discarded cloth. My sandals are silent in the soft sand as I wend my way between tents to the center of the camp.

Entering the open space, I turn toward the still-dark eastern horizon. Stars, sprinkled across the black velvet sky, sharp and intense, drew my eyes. I approached the linen fence which separates us from Yahweh. On the eastern side, I pushed aside the red, blue and blended curtain, the only entrance. I entered the sanctuary courtyard. Ignoring the grasping hands and shouted warnings of sleepy priests, I pass the bronze altar on my right, the place of judgment, and a basin of water on the left, His cleansing grace. I approached the entrance to the tent of meeting, another mingled red and blue and purple curtain, hiding the sacred place within.

I was about to commit the ultimate sacrilege, a death sentence at the hands of the priest or at the blast of Yahweh’s breath. I entered, saved from the aggression of the priests by their surprise. Yahweh’s presence should have done the same. I knew this would not happen, for I have the blood and the Bread.

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They came to me in a dream of the night, this bread and blood. When I woke, the dream was no dream, but reality; beside my bolster were the things of which I dreamed.

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Entering, I saw Lamps on a stand, dim pinpoints of light in contrast to the brilliant light peering over the final barrier curtain. Colors no man but priest has ever seen mirrored from golden walls and ceiling. A priest, startled by my entrance, stood at the smoking altar of incense. Gesturing wildly, he motioned me away. Ignoring him, I walked to the right side of the tent and pushed the final curtain aside.

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Light beyond comprehension struck me with a force greater than any human fist. The priest cried out in terror and hid his eyes from the presence of Yahweh.

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Entering, I stood where only Aaron and Moses were permitted to stand.

Shimmering before me, was Light, the Source of light, light Himself. Here dwells the Shekinah glory, Yahweh Himself.

I should have been dead, but I was not, for I held the blood and the loaf.

Moving to the box of gold and wood and gold, I unfolded the square of cloth and, taking the vial in careful hands, unstopped it. Hesitating, I savored the moment, then poured the blood onto the mercy seat. Smoke fills the space. A sweet odor, sweeter than that which is offered on the altar of incense assaulted my senses. With immense reverence, I placed the bread, ripped from a whole loaf, onto the plane of gold. It, too, instantly became a haze of sweet-smelling smoke.

I fell on my face worshipping. The sounds of angry and horrified priests faded as I was drawn into Yahweh. I ceased to exist, yet lived. Merged into Him was homecoming, being beyond all being, peace outside all human experience. His own hands raised me to my feet.

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I sang a song of praise, confession and worship comingled, as if fashioned of water, wind, fire and earth. I danced ecstatic with joy, overwhelmed, possessed entirely. Seeing, I saw beyond vision. Hearing I heard that which is forbidden to human ears. Sweet and sour, bitter and salt, combined on my tongue, flavors blended as no earthly cook could. Heavenly scents tantalized my nostrils. My body tingled with sensations so intense, so exquisitely pleasurable I knew that nothing else will ever satisfy.

Time was timeless. I sang and dance, enfolded within Him. Eternity is too brief to absorb Him, comprehend Him, appreciate Him.

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Earthly awareness dawned slowly, reluctantly, a waning moon, feeble and distant. Voices, angry urgent shouts intruded. I sensed they were trying to formulate a plan to remove my body from this most holy place, Certain as they were, that I was dead, struck down by the Presence. I am of the tribe of Dan, the heel-biting serpent tribe, the serpent who will one day wound the Chosen One. What I did is forbidden by the Law of Moses. If Yahweh didn't kill me, they certainly would. That would be welcome, for I knew that, after experiencing Him in that way, all would be dull and drab, a lifelong grey day. It would be welcome, a relief from the long years of separation I knew were between now and then.

I pushed aside the curtain turned back, gazed one last longing time into the Light of Lights.

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Within the small cloth I still held the vial, a precious memento.

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Instantly, the crowd of priests ceased to shout. They backed away and fled, covering their eyes as they went.

Later I learned that my face and clothing glowed with a light so bright they could not bear it.

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Life is dull now. The constant round of tasteless food and meaningless drudgery goes on, day after empty day.

My eyes are constantly drawn to the place of meeting, of the place where I met the Presence, the Enfolding. I dwell in that memory. Holy joy and peace live on within me. Though I never repeated my blasphemy, He becomes ever more real to me in that Most Holy Place within. More palpable than flesh and blood, He fills me to overflowing. Memory fades, experience cannot. He lives where no one else can see, where I continually meet with Him. In my own Most Holy Place, I live out my days of toil and nights of dream.

No longer do I glow. But within is kindled a fire burning on the altar of my heart--the flame that is He Himself.

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I have never married. I am the law-breaker, and only fear of Yahweh keeps them from stoning me. None of that matters to me who has seen Yahweh and lived. A Way opened by very blood and body of God Himself. I am shunned by all Israel. None will associate with me. I moved my tent to the very edge of the camp, bordering on the wilderness. In its solitude and dry silence, I meet with Him. Our spirits mingle. He tells me things never before revealed. He tells me of things yet to come, things forbidden to human minds.

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I know not why I was chosen for this continual unveiling. I cannot fathom His purposes. For all others, the world goes on as before. It is I and I alone who am changed. I do not regret, I do not question, I only live to meld into Him, to know and be known by Him. Perhaps this is the eventual fate of all humankind. May it be so.

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Ps 64:2?

So I have seen you in the sanctuary,

watching your power and your glory.

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1/5/18

11/22/20

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