2015. The Torn Veil

No. 2015-34:169. A Sermon Delivered On Lord’s Day Morning, March 25, 1888, By C. H. Spurgeon, At The Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington.

Jesus, when he had cried again with a loud voice, yielded up the ghost. And, behold, the veil of the temple was torn in two from the top to the bottom. {Mt 27:50,51}

Having therefore, brethren, boldness to enter into the holiest by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way, which he has consecrated for us, through the veil, that is to say, his flesh. {Heb 10:19,20}

For other sermons on this text:
   {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 2015, “Rent Veil, The” 2016}
   {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 2059, “Three Drops of Honey from the Rock Christ — The Miracles Of our Lord’s Death” 2060}
   Exposition on Lu 23:27-49 Mt 27:50-54 {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 2311, “Our Lord’s Last Cry from the Cross” 2312 @@ "Exposition"}
   Exposition on Mt 27:15-54 Joh 18:28-38 {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 2824, “Mocked of the Soldiers” 2825 @@ "Exposition"}
   Exposition on Mt 27:22-50 {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 2333, “Whole Band Against Christ, The” 2334 @@ "Exposition"}
   Exposition on Mt 27:27-54 {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 2803, “Saddest Cry from the Cross, The” 2804 @@ "Exposition"}
   Exposition on Mt 27:27-54 {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 2887, “Dire Disease Strangely Cured, A” 2888 @@ "Exposition"}
   Exposition on Mt 27:50-66 {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 3559, “Pierced Heart of Jesus, The” 3561 @@ "Exposition"}
   {See Spurgeon_SermonTexts "Mt 27:51"}

1. The death of our Lord Jesus Christ was fitly surrounded by miracles; yet it is itself so much greater a wonder than all besides, that it as far exceeds them as the sun outshines the planets which surround it. It seems natural enough that the earth should quake, that tombs should be opened, and that the veil of the temple should be torn, when he who only has immortality gives up the ghost. The more you think of the death of the Son of God, the more you will be amazed by it. As much as a miracle excels a common fact, so this wonder of wonders rises above all miracles of power. That the divine Lord, even though veiled in mortal flesh, should condescend to be subject to the power of death, so as to bow his head on the cross, and submit to be laid in the tomb, is among mysteries the greatest. The death of Jesus is the marvel of time and eternity, which, as Aaron’s rod swallowed up all the rest, takes up into itself all lesser marvels.

2. Yet the rending of the veil of the temple is not a miracle to be lightly passed over. It was made of “fine twined linen, with cherubims of cunning work.” This gives the idea of a substantial fabric, a piece of lasting tapestry, which would have endured the severest strain. No human hands could have torn that sacred covering; and it could not have been ripped down the middle by any accidental cause; yet, strange to say, on the instant when the holy person of Jesus was torn by death, the great veil which concealed the holiest of all was “torn in two from the top to the bottom.” What did it mean? It meant much more than I can tell you now.

3. It is not fanciful to regard it as a solemn act of mourning on the part of the house of the Lord. In the East men express their sorrow by tearing their garments; and the temple, when it beheld its Master die, seemed struck with horror, and tore its veil. Shocked at the sin of man, indignant at the murder of its Lord, in its sympathy with him who is the true temple of God, the outward symbol tore its holy vestment from the top to the bottom. Did not the miracle also mean that from that hour the whole system of types, and shadows, and ceremonies had come to an end? The ordinances of an earthly priesthood were torn with that veil. As a sign of the death of the ceremonial law, the soul of it abandoned its sacred shrine, and left its bodily tabernacle as a dead thing. The legal age is over. The tearing of the veil seemed to say — “Henceforth God dwells no longer in the thick darkness of the Holy of Holies, and no longer shines out from between the cherubim. The special enclosure is broken up, and there is no inner sanctuary for the earthly high priest to enter: typical atonements and sacrifices are at an end.”

4. According to the explanation given in our second text, the tearing of the veil chiefly meant that the way into the holiest, which was not before revealed, was now laid open to all believers. Once in the year the high priest solemnly lifted a corner of this veil with fear and trembling, and with blood and holy incense he passed into the immediate presence of Jehovah; but the tearing of the veil laid open the secret place. The tearing from top to bottom gives ample room for all to enter who are called by God’s grace, to approach the throne, and to commune with the Eternal One. Upon that subject I shall try to speak this morning, praying in my innermost soul that you and I, with all other believers, may have boldness actually to enter into what is within the veil at this time of our assembling for worship. Oh, that the Spirit of God would lead us into the nearest fellowship which mortal men can have with the Infinite Jehovah!

5. First, this morning, I shall ask you to consider what has been done. The veil has been torn. Secondly, we will remember what we therefore have: we have “boldness to enter into the holiest by the blood of Jesus.” Then, thirdly, we will consider how we exercise this grace: we “enter by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way, which he has consecrated for us, through the veil, that is to say, his flesh.”

6. I. First, think of WHAT HAS BEEN DONE.

7. In actual historical fact the glorious veil of the temple has been torn in two from the top to the bottom: as a matter of spiritual fact, which is far more important to us, the separating legal ordinance is abolished. There was under the law this ordinance — that no man should ever go into the holiest of all, with the one exception of the high priest, and he only once in the year, and not without blood. If any man had attempted to enter there he must have died, as guilty of great presumption and of profane intrusion into the secret place of the Most High. Who could stand in the presence of him who is a consuming fire? This ordinance of distance runs all through the law; for even the holy place, which was the vestibule of the Holy of Holies, was for the priests alone. The place of the people was one of distance. At the very first institution of the law when God descended upon Sinai, the ordinance was, “You shall set bounds for the people all around,” There was no invitation to draw near. Not that they desired to do so, for the mountain was covered with smoke, and “even Moses said, ‘I greatly fear and quake.’ ” “The Lord said to Moses, ‘Go down, charge the people, lest they break through to the Lord to gaze, and many of them perish.’ ” If so much as a beast touches the mountain it must be stoned, or thrust through with a spear. The spirit of the old law was reverent distance. Moses and here and there a man chosen by God, might come near to Jehovah; but as for the majority of the people, the command was, “Do not draw near here.” When the Lord revealed his glory at the giving of the law, we read — “When the people saw it, they moved, and stood afar off.” All this is ended. The precept to keep back is abrogated, and the invitation is, “Come to me, all you who labour and are heavy laden.” “Let us draw near” is now the filial spirit of the gospel. How thankful I am for this! What a joy it is to my soul! Some of God’s people have not yet understood this gracious fact, for they still worship afar off. Very much of prayer is to be highly commended for its reverence; but it has in it a lack of childlike confidence. I can admire the solemn and stately language of worship which recognises the greatness of God; but it will not warm my heart nor express my soul until it has also blended with it the joyful nearness of that perfect love which casts out fear, and ventures to speak with our Father in heaven as a child speaks with his father on earth. My brother, no veil remains. Why do you stand afar off, and tremble like a slave? Draw near with full assurance of faith. The veil is torn: access is free. Come boldly to the throne of grace. Jesus has made you near, as near to God as even he himself is. Though we speak of the holiest of all, even the secret place of the Most High, yet it is of this place of awe, even of this sanctuary of Jehovah, that the veil is torn; therefore, let nothing hinder your entrance. Assuredly no law forbids you; but infinite love invites you to draw near to God.

8. This tearing of the veil meant also, the removal of the separating sin. Sin is, after all, the great barrier between God and man. That veil of blue and purple and fine twined linen could not really separate man from God: for he is, as for his omnipresence, not far from any one of us. Sin is a far more effective wall of separation: it opens an abyss between the sinner and his Judge. Sin shuts out prayer, and praise, and every form of religious exercise. Sin makes God walk contrary to us, because we walk contrary to him. Sin, by separating the soul from God, causes spiritual death, which is both the effect and the penalty of transgression. How can two walk together unless they are agreed? How can a holy God have fellowship with unholy creatures? Shall justice dwell with injustice? Shall perfect purity reside with the abominations of evil? No, it cannot be. Our Lord Jesus Christ put away sin by the sacrifice of himself. He takes away the sin of the world, and so the veil is torn. By the shedding of his most precious blood we are cleansed from all sin, and that most gracious promise of the new covenant is fulfilled — “Their sins and their iniquities I will remember no more.” When sin is gone, the barrier is broken down, the unfathomable gulf is filled. Pardon, which removes sin, and justification, which brings righteousness, make up a deed of clearance so real and so complete that nothing now separates the sinner from his reconciled God. The Judge is now the Father: he, who once must necessarily have condemned, is found justly absolving and accepting. In this double sense the veil is torn: the separating ordinance is abrogated, and the separating sin is forgiven.

9. Next, may it be remembered that the separating sinfulness is also taken away through our Lord Jesus. It is not only what we have done, but what we are that keeps us apart from God. We have sin engrained in us: even those who have grace dwelling them have to complain, “When I would do good, evil is present with me.” How can we commune with God with our eyes blinded, our ears plugged, our hearts hardened, and our senses deadened by sin? Our whole nature is tainted, poisoned, perverted by evil; how can we know the Lord? Beloved, through the death of our Lord Jesus the covenant of grace is established with us, and its gracious provisions are like this: “ ‘This is the covenant that I will make with them after those days,’ says the Lord; ‘I will put my laws into their mind, and write them in their hearts.’ ” When this is the case, when the will of God is inscribed on the heart, and the nature is entirely changed, then the separating veil which hides us from God is taken away: “Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God.” Blessed are all those who love righteousness and follow after it, for they are in a way in which the Righteous One can walk in fellowship with them. Spirits that are like God are not separated from God. Difference of nature hangs up a veil; but the new birth, and the sanctification which follows it, through the precious death of Jesus, removes that veil. He who hates sin, strives after holiness, and labours to perfect it in the fear of God, is in fellowship with God. It is a blessed thing when we love what God loves, when we seek what God seeks, when we are in sympathy with divine purposes, and are obedient to divine commands: for the Lord will dwell with such people. When grace makes us partakers of the divine nature; then we are at one with the Lord, and the veil is taken away.

10. “Yes,” one says, “I see now how the veil is taken away in three different ways; but still God is God, and we are only poor puny men: between God and man there must of necessity be a separating veil, caused by the great disparity between the Creator and the creature. How can the finite and the infinite commune? God is all in all, and more than all; we are nothing, and less than nothing; how can we meet?” When the Lord does come near to his favoured ones, they admit how incapable they are of enduring the excessive glory. Even the beloved John said, “When I saw him, I fell at his feet as dead.” When we have been especially conscious of the presence and working of our Lord, we have felt our flesh creep, and our blood chill; and then we have understood what Jacob meant when he said, “How dreadful is this place! This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven.” All this is true; for the Lord says, “You cannot see my face and live.” Although this is a much thinner veil than those I have already mentioned, yet it is a veil; and it is hard for man to be at home with God. But the Lord Jesus bridges the separating distance. Behold the blessed Son of God has come into the world, and taken upon himself our nature! “Forasmuch then as the children are partakers of the flesh and blood, he also himself likewise partook of the same.” Though he is God as God is God, yet he is as surely man as man is man. Note well how in the person of the Lord Jesus we see God and man in the closest conceivable alliance; for they are united in one person for ever. The gulf is completely filled by the fact that Jesus has gone through with us even to the bitter end, to death, even to the death of the cross. He has followed out the career of manhood even to the tomb; and so we see that the veil, which hung between the nature of God and the nature of man, is torn in the person of our Lord Jesus Christ. We enter into the holiest of all through his flesh, which links manhood to Godhead.

11. Now, you see what it is to have the veil taken away. Solemnly note that this avails only for believers: those who refuse Jesus refuse the only way of access to God. God is not approachable, except through the tearing of the veil by the death of Jesus. There was one typical way to the mercy seat of old, and that was through the turning aside of the veil; there was no other. And there is now no other way for any of you to come into fellowship with God, except through the torn veil, even the death of Jesus Christ, whom God has presented to be the propitiation for sin. Come this way, and you may come freely. Refuse to come this way, and there hangs between you and God an impassable veil. Without Christ you are without God, and without hope. Jesus himself assures you, “If you do not believe that I am he, you shall die in your sins.” May God grant that this may not happen to any of you!

12. For believers the veil is not rolled up, but torn. The veil was not unhooked, and carefully folded up, and put away, so that it might be put in its place at some future time. Oh, no! But the divine hand took it and tore it from top to bottom. It can never be hung up again; that is impossible. Between those who are in Christ Jesus and the great God, there will never be another separation. “Who shall separate us from the love of God?” Only one veil was made, and since that is torn, the one and only separator is destroyed. I delight to think of this. The devil himself can never separate me from God now. He may and will attempt to shut me out from God; but the worst he could do would be to hang up a torn veil. What would that avail except to exhibit his impotence? God has torn the veil, and the devil cannot mend it. There is access between a believer and his God; and there must be such free access for ever, since the veil is not rolled up, and set aside to be hung up again in days to come; but it is torn, and rendered useless.

13. The tearing is not in one corner, but in the middle, as Luke tells us. It is not a slight tear through which we may see a little; but it is torn from the top to the bottom. There is an entrance made for the greatest sinners. If there had only been a small hole cut through it, the lesser offenders might have crept through; but what an act of abounding mercy is this, that the veil is torn in the middle, and torn from top to bottom, so that the chief of sinners may find ample passage! This also shows that for believers there is no hindrance to the fullest and freest access to God. Oh, for much boldness, this morning, to come where God has not only opened the door, but has lifted the door from its hinges; yes, removed it, post, and bar, and all!

14. I want you to notice that this veil, when it was torn, was torn by God, not by man. It was not the act of an irreverent mob; it was not the midnight outrage of a set of profane priests: it was the act of God alone. No one stood within the veil; and on the outer side of it stood the priests only fulfilling their ordinary vocation of offering sacrifice. It must have astounded them when they saw that holy place laid bear in a moment. How they fled, as they saw that massive veil ripped without human hand in a second of time! Who tore it? Who except God himself? If another had done it, there might have been a mistake about it, and the mistake might need to be remedied by replacing the curtain; but if the Lord has done it, it is done properly, it is done finally, it is done irreversibly. It is God himself who has laid sin on Christ, and in Christ has put that sin away. God himself has opened the gate of heaven to believers, and constructed a highway along which the souls of men may travel to himself. God himself has placed the ladder between earth and heaven. Come to him now, you humble ones. Behold, he sets before you an open door!

15. II. And now I ask you to follow me, dear friends, in the second place, to a practical consideration of my subject. We now notice WHAT WE HAVE: “Having therefore, brethren, boldness to enter into the holiest,”

16. Observe the threefold “having” in the paragraph now before us, and do not be content without all three. We have “boldness to enter in.” There are degrees in boldness; but this is one of the highest. When the veil was torn it required some boldness to look within. I wonder whether the priests at the altar had the courage to gaze upon the mercy seat. I suspect that they were so struck with amazement that they fled from the altar, fearing sudden death. It requires a measure of boldness steadily to look upon the mystery of God: “Which things the angels desire to look into.” It is good not to look with a merely curious eye into the deep things of God. I question whether any man is able to pry into the mystery of the Trinity without great risk. Some, thinking to look there with the eyes of their natural intellect, have been blinded by the light of that sun, and have henceforth wandered in darkness. It needs boldness to look into the splendours of redeeming and electing love. If any did look into the holiest when the veil was torn, they were among the boldest of men; for others must have feared lest the fate of the men of Bethshemesh would be theirs. {1Sa 6:13-21} Beloved, the Holy Spirit invites you to look into the holy place, and view it all with reverent eye; for it is full of teaching for you. Understand the mystery of the mercy seat, and of the ark of the covenant overlaid with gold, and of the pot of manna, and of the tables of stone, and of Aaron’s rod that budded. Look, look boldly through Jesus Christ: but do not be content with just looking! Hear what the text says: “Having boldness to enter in.” Blessed be God if he has taught us this sweet way of no longer looking from afar, but of entering into the innermost shrine with confidence! “Boldness to enter in” is what we ought to have.

17. Let us follow the example of the high priest, and, having entered, let us perform the functions of one who enters in. “Boldness to enter in” suggests that we act as men who are in their proper places. To stand within the veil filled the servant of God with an overpowering sense of the divine presence. If ever in his life he was near to God, he was certainly near to God then, when quite alone, shut in, and excluded from all the world, he had no one with him, except the glorious Jehovah. Oh my beloved, may we this morning enter into the holiest in this sense! Shut out from the world, both wicked and Christian, let us know that the Lord is here, most near and revealed. Oh that we may now cry out with Hagar, “Have I also here looked at him who sees me?” Oh, how sweet to experience by personal enjoyment the presence of Jehovah! How cheering to feel that the Lord of hosts is with us! We know our God to be a very present help in trouble. It is one of the greatest joys outside of heaven to be able to sing — Jehovah Shammah — the Lord is here. At first we tremble in the divine presence; but as we feel more of the spirit of adoption we draw near with sacred delight, and feel so fully at home with our God that we sing with Moses, “Lord, you have been our dwelling-place in all generations.” Do not live as if God were as far off from you as the east is from the west. Do not live far below on the earth; but live on high, as if you were in heaven. In heaven you will be with God; but on earth he will be with you: is there much difference? He has raised us up together, and made us sit together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus. Jesus has made us near by his precious blood. Try day by day to live in as great nearness to God, as the high priest felt when he stood for a while within the secret of Jehovah’s tabernacle.

18. The high priest had a sense of communion with God; he was not only near, but he spoke with God. I cannot tell what he said, but I should think that on the special day the high priest unburdened himself of the load of Israel’s sin and sorrow, and made known his requests to the Lord. Aaron, standing there alone, must have been filled with memories of his own faultiness, and of the idolatries and backslidings of the people. God shone upon him, and he bowed before God. He may have heard things which it was not lawful for him to utter, and other things which he could not have uttered if they had been lawful. Beloved, do you know what it is to commune with God? Words are poor vehicles for this fellowship; but what a blessed thing it is! Proofs of the existence of God are altogether superfluous for those of us who are in the habit of conversing with the Eternal One. If anyone were to write an essay to prove the existence of my wife, or my son, I certainly should not read it, except for the amusement of the thing; and proofs of the existence of God to the man who communes with God are much the same. Many of you walk with God: what bliss! Fellowship with the Most High is elevating, purifying, strengthening. Enter into it boldly. Enter into his revealed thoughts, even as he graciously enters into yours: rise to his plans, as he condescends to yours; ask to be lifted up to him, even as he condescends to dwell with you.

19. This is what the tearing of the veil brings us when we have boldness to enter in; but, notice that, the torn veil brings us nothing until we have boldness to enter in. Why do we stand outside? Jesus brings us near, and truly our fellowship is with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ. Let us not be slow to take up our freedom, and come boldly to the throne. The high priest entered within the veil of blue, and purple, and scarlet, and fine twined linen, with blood, and with incense, so that he might pray for Israel; and there he stood before the Most High, pleading with him to bless the people. Oh beloved, prayer is a divine institution, and it belongs to us. But there are many kinds of prayers. There is the prayer of one who seems shut out from God’s holy temple; there is the prayer of another who stands in the court of the Gentiles afar off, looking towards the temple; there is the prayer of one who gets where Israel stands and pleads with the God of the chosen; there is the prayer in the court of the priests, when the sanctified man of God makes intercession; but the best prayer of all is offered in the holiest of all. There is no fear about prayer being heard when it is offered in the holiest. The very position of the man proves that he is accepted with God. He is standing on the best ground of acceptance, and he is so near to God that his every desire is heard. There the man is seen through and through; for he is very near to God. His thoughts are read, his tears are seen, his sighs are heard; for he has boldness to enter in. He may ask what he wishes, and it shall be done for him. Just as the altar sanctifies the gift, so the most holy place, entered by the blood of Jesus, secures a certain answer to the prayer that is offered there. May God give us such power in prayer! It is a wonderful thing that the Lord should listen to the voice of a man; yet there are such men. Luther came out of his prayer closet, and cried, Vici — “I have conquered.” He had not yet met his adversaries; but since he had prevailed with God for men, he felt that he should prevail with men for God.

20. But the high priest, if you remember, after he had communed and prayed with God, came out and blessed the people. He put on his garments of glory and beauty, which he had laid aside when he went into the holy place, for there he stood in simple white, and nothing else; and now he came out wearing the breastplate and all his precious ornaments, and he blessed the people. That is what you will do if you have the boldness to enter into the holiest by the blood of Jesus: you will bless the people who surround you. The Lord has blessed you, and he will make you a blessing. Your ordinary conduct and conversation will be a blessed example; the words you speak for Jesus will be like a dew from the Lord: the sick will be comforted by your words; the despondent will be encouraged by your faith; the lukewarm will be recovered by your love. You will be, practically, saying to each one who knows you, “May the Lord bless you, and keep you: may the Lord make his face to shine on you, and give you peace.” You will become a channel of blessing: “Out of your belly shall flow rivers of living water.” May each one of us have boldness to enter in, so that we may come forth laden with blessings!

21. If you will kindly look at the text, you will notice, what I shall merely hint at, that this boldness is well grounded. I always like to see the apostle using a “therefore”: “Having therefore boldness.” Paul is often a true poet, but he is always a correct logician; he is as logical as if he were dealing with mathematics rather than theology. Here he writes one of his therefores.

22. Why is it that we have boldness? Is it not because of our relationship to Christ which makes us “brethren?” “Having therefore, brethren, boldness.” The feeblest believer has as much right to enter into the holy places as Paul had; because he is one of the brotherhood. I remember a rhyme by John Ryland, in which he says of heaven —

   They shall all be there,
   The great and the small;
   Poor I shall shake hands
   With the blessed St. Paul.

I have no doubt we shall have such a position, and such fellowship. Meanwhile, we do shake hands with him this morning as he calls us brethren. We are brethren to each other, because we are brethren to Jesus. Where we see the apostle go, we will go; yes, rather, where we see the Great Apostle and High Priest of our profession enter, we will follow. “Having therefore, boldness.”

23. Beloved, we have now no fear of death in the most holy place. The high priest, whoever he might be, must always have dreaded that solemn day of atonement, when he had to pass into the silent and secluded place. I cannot tell whether it is true, but I have read that there is a tradition among the Jews, that a rope was fastened to the high priest’s foot so that they might pull out his corpse in case he died before the Lord. I should not wonder if their superstition devised such a thing, for it is an awful position for a man to enter into the secret dwelling of Jehovah. But we cannot die in the holy place now, since Jesus has died for us. The death of Jesus is the guarantee of the eternal life of all for whom he died. We have boldness to enter, for we shall not perish.

24. Our boldness arises from the perfection of his sacrifice. Read the fourteenth verse: “He has perfected for ever those who are sanctified.” We rely on the sacrifice of Christ, believing that he was such a perfect Substitute for us, that it is not possible for us to die after our Substitute has died; and we must be accepted, because he is accepted. We believe that the precious blood has so effectively and eternally put away sin from us, that we are no longer obnoxious to the wrath of God. We may safely stand where sin must be struck, if there is any sin in us; for we are so washed, so cleaned, and so fully justified that we are accepted in the Beloved. Sin is so completely lifted from us by the vicarious sacrifice of Christ, that we have boldness to enter where Jehovah himself dwells.

25. Moreover, we have this for certain, that since a priest had a right to dwell near to God, we have that privilege; for Jesus has made us kings and priests to God, and all the privileges of the office come to us with the office itself. We have a mission within the holy place; we are called to enter there on holy business, and so we have no fear of being intruders. A burglar may enter a house, but he does not enter with boldness; he is always afraid lest he should be surprised. You might enter a stranger’s house, without an invitation, but you would feel no boldness there. We do not enter the holiest as housebreakers, nor as strangers; we come in obedience to a call, to fulfil our office. When once we accept the sacrifice of Christ, we are at home with God. Where should a child be bold but in his father’s house? Where should a priest stand but in the temple of his God, for whose service he is set apart? Where should a blood-washed sinner live but with his God, to whom he is reconciled?

26. It is a heavenly joy to feel this boldness! We now have such a love for God, and such a delight in him, that it never crosses our minds that we are trespassers when we draw near to him. We never say, “God, my dread,” but “God, my very great joy.” His name is the music to which our lives are set: though God is a consuming fire we love him as such, for he will only consume our dross, and we desire to lose that. Under no aspect is God now distasteful to us. We delight in him, no matter what. So you see, beloved, we have good reasons for boldness when we enter into the holiest by the blood of Jesus.

27. I cannot leave this point until I have reminded you that we may have this boldness of entering in at all times, because the veil is always torn, and is never restored to its old place. “The Lord said to Moses, ‘Speak to Aaron your brother, so that he does not come anytime into the holy place within the veil before the mercy seat, which is upon the ark; that he does not die’ ”; but the Lord does not say that to us. Dear child of God, you may at all times have “boldness to enter in.” The veil is torn both day and night. Yes, let me say it, even when your eye of faith is dim, still enter in; when evidences are dark, still have “boldness to enter in”; and even if you have unhappily sinned, remember that access is open to your penitent prayer. Still come through the torn veil, sinner as you are. Even though you have backslidden, even though you are grieved with the sense of your wanderings, come even now! “Today, if you will hear his voice, do not harden your heart,” but enter at once; for the veil is not there to exclude you, though doubt and unbelief may make you think it is so. The veil cannot be there, for it was torn in two from the top to the bottom.

28. III. My time has fled, and I shall not have time to speak as I meant to do on the last point — HOW WE EXERCISE THIS GRACE. Let me give you the notes of what I would have said.

29. Let us at this hour enter into the holiest. Behold the way! We come by the way of atonement: “Having therefore, brethren, boldness to enter into the holiest by the blood of Jesus.” I have been made to feel really sick through the fierce and blasphemous words that have been used recently by gentlemen of the modern school concerning the precious blood. I will not defile my lips by a repetition of the thrice-accursed things which they have dared to utter while trampling on the blood of Jesus. Everywhere throughout this divine Book you find the precious blood. How can he call himself a Christian who speaks in flippant and profane language of the blood of atonement? My brothers, there is no way into the holiest, even though the veil is torn, without blood. You might suppose that the high priest of old brought the blood because the veil was there; but you have to bring it with you though the veil is gone. The way is open, and you have boldness to enter; but not without the blood of Jesus. It would be an unholy boldness which would think of drawing near to God without the blood of the great Sacrifice. We always have to plead the atonement. Just as without shedding of blood there is no remission of sin, so without that blood there is no access to God.

30. Next, the way by which we come is an unfailing way. Please notice that word — “by a new way”; this means by a way which is always fresh. The original Greek suggests the idea of “newly slain.” Jesus died long ago, but his death is the same now as at the moment of its occurrence. We come to God, dear friends, by a way which is always effective with God. It never, never loses one bit of its power and freshness.

   Dear dying Lamb, thy precious blood
      Shall never lose its power.

The way is not worn away by long traffic: it is always new. If Jesus Christ had died yesterday, would you not feel that you could plead his merit today? Very well, you can plead that merit after these almost two millennia with as much confidence as at the first hour. The way to God is always newly laid. In effect, the wounds of Jesus incessantly bleed our expiation. The cross is as glorious as though he were still upon it. So far as the freshness, vigour, and force of the atoning death is concerned, we come by a new way. Let it be always new to our hearts. Let the doctrine of atonement never grow stale, but let it have dew upon it for our souls.

31. Then the apostle adds, it is a “living way.” A wonderful word! The way by which the high priest went into the holy place was of course a material way, and so a dead way. We come by a spiritual way, suitable to our spirits. The way could not help the high priest, but our way helps us abundantly. Jesus says, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” When we come to God by this way, the way itself leads, guides, bears, brings us near. This way gives us life with which to come.

32. It is a dedicated way, “which he has consecrated for us.” When a new road is opened, it is set apart and dedicated for the public use. Sometimes a public building is opened by a king or a prince, and so is dedicated to its purpose. Beloved, the way to God through Jesus Christ is dedicated by Christ, and ordained by Christ for the use of poor believing sinners, such as we are. He has consecrated the way towards God, and dedicated it for us, so that we may freely use it. Surely, if there is a road set apart for me, I may use it without fear; and the way to God and heaven through Jesus Christ is dedicated by the Saviour for sinners; it is the King’s highway for wayfaring men, who are bound for the City of God; therefore, let us use it. “Consecrated for us!” Blessed word!

33. Lastly, it is a Christly way; for when we come to God, we still come through his flesh. There is no coming to Jehovah, except by the incarnate God. God in human flesh is our way to God; the substitutionary death of the Word made flesh is also the way to the Father. There is no coming to God, except by representation. Jesus represents us before God, and we come to God through him who is our covenant-head, our representative and forerunner before the throne of the Most High. Let us never try to pray without Christ; never try to sing without Christ; never try to preach without Christ. Let us perform no holy function, nor attempt to have fellowship with God in any shape or form, except through that tear which he has made in the veil by his flesh, sanctified for us, and offered on the cross on our behalf.

34. Beloved, I am finished when I have just remarked upon the next two verses, which are necessary to complete the sense, but which I was obliged to omit this morning, since there would be no time to handle them. We are called to take holy freedoms with God. “Let us draw near,” at once, “with a true heart in full assurance of faith.” Let us do so boldly, for we have a great high priest. The twenty-first verse reminds us of this. Jesus is the great Priest, and we are the sub-priests under him, and since he invites us to come near to God, and he himself leads the way, let us follow him into the inner sanctuary. Because he lives, we shall live also. We shall not die in the holy place, unless he dies. God will not strike us unless he strikes him. So, “having a high priest over the house of God, let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith.”

35. And then the apostle tells us that we may not only come with boldness, because our high priest leads the way, but because we ourselves are prepared for entrance. The high priest had to do two things before he might enter: one was, to be sprinkled with blood, and this we have; for “our hearts are sprinkled from an evil conscience.”

36. The other prerequisite for the priests was to have their “bodies washed with pure water.” This we have received in symbol in our baptism, and in reality in the spiritual cleansing of regeneration. For us the prayer has been fulfilled —

   Let the water and the blood
   From thy riven side which flowed,
   Be of sin the double cure,
   Cleanse me from its guilt and power.

We have known the washing of water by the Word, and we have been sanctified by the Spirit of his grace; therefore let us enter into the holiest. Why should we stay away? Hearts sprinkled with blood, bodies washed with pure water — these are the ordained preparations for acceptable entrance. Come near, beloved! May the Holy Spirit be the spirit of access to you now. Come to your God, and then remain with him! He is your Father, your all in all. Sit down and rejoice in him; take your fill of love; and do not let your communion be broken between here and heaven. Why should it be? Why not begin today that sweet enjoyment of perfect reconciliation and delight in God which shall go on increasing in intensity until you behold the Lord in open vision, and go out no more? Heaven will bring a great change in condition, but not in our standing, if even now we stand within the veil. It will be only such a change as there is between the perfect day and the daybreak; for we have the same sun, and the same light from the sun, and the same privilege of walking in the light. “Until the day breaks, and the shadows flee away, turn, my beloved, and be like a roe or a young hart upon the mountains of Division.” Amen, and Amen.

[Portion Of Scripture Read Before Sermon — Heb 10]
{See Spurgeon_Hymnal “Jesus Christ, Resurrection and Ascension — ‘I Go To Prepare A Place For You’ ” 318}
{See Spurgeon_Hymnal “Jesus Christ, Sufferings and Death — For Me” 296}
{See Spurgeon_Hymnal “Jesus Christ, Names and Titles — Priest” 395}

Jesus Christ, Resurrection and Ascension
318 — “I Go To Prepare A Place For You”
1 Th’ eternal gates lift up their heads,
   The doors are open’d wide;
   The King of glory is gone up
   Unto his Father’s side.
2 Thou art gone in before us, Lord,
   Thou hast prepared a place,
   That we may be where now thou art,
   And look upon thy face.
3 And ever on our earthly path
   A gleam of glory lies;
   A light still breaks upon the cloud
   That veils thee from our eyes.
4 Lift up our thoughts, lift up our songs,
   And let thy grace be given,
   That while we linger yet below
   Our hearts may be in heaven.
5 That where thou art, at God’s right hand
   Our hope, our love may be:
   Dwell in us now, that we may dwell
   For evermore in thee.
         Cecil Frances Alexander, 1852, a.

Jesus Christ, Sufferings and Death
296 — For Me
1 The Son of God, in mighty love,
   Came down to Bethlehem for me,
   Forsook his throne of light above,
   An infant upon earth to be.
2 In love, the Father’s sinless child
   Sojourn’d at Nazareth for me;
   With sinners dwelt the Undefiled,
   The Holy One in Galilee.
3 Jesus whom angel hosts adore,
   Became a man of griefs for me:
   In love, though rich, becoming poor,
   That I, through him, enrich’d might be.
4 Though Lord of all, above, below,
   He went to Olivet for me;
   He drank my cup of wrath and woe,
   And bled in dark Gethsemane.
5 The ever blessed Son of God
   Went up to Calvary for me:
   There paid my debt, there bore may load
   In his own body on the tree.
6 Jesus, whose dwelling is the skies,
   Went down into the grave for me;
   There overcame my enemies,
   There won the glorious victory.
7 ‘Tis Finish’d all: the veil is rent,
   The welcome sure, the access free;
   Now then, we leave our banishment,
   Oh Father, to return to thee!
                        Horatius Bonar 1856.

Jesus Christ, Names and Titles
395 — Priest
1 Jesus, in thee our eyes behold
   A thousand glories more
   Than the rich gems, and polish’d gold,
   The sons of Aaron wore.
2 They first their own burn offerings brought
   To purge themselves from sin:
   Thy life was pure without a spot,
   And all thy nature clean.
3 Fresh blood as constant as the day,
   Was on their altar spilt:
   But thy one offering takes away
   For ever all our guilt.
4 Their priesthood ran through several hands,
   For mortal was their race;
   Thy never changing office stands
   Eternal as thy days.
5 Once in the circuit of a year,
   With blood, but not his own,
   Aaron within the veil appears,
   Before the golden throne.
6 But Christ by his own powerful blood
   Ascends above the skies,
   And in the presence of our God
   Shows his own sacrifice.
7 Jesus, the King of Glory, reigns
   On Sion’s heavenly hill;
   Looks like a lamb that has been slain,
   And wears his priesthood still.
8 He ever lives to intercede
   Before his Father’s face:
   Give him, my soul, thy cause to plead,
   Nor doubt the Father’s grace.
                        Isaac Watts, 1709.