Exodus chapters 36 and 37 introduce us to a remarkable man named Bezalel, handpicked by God to lead the construction of the tabernacle. God said of him, “I have filled Bezalel with the Spirit of God and have given him the skill, ability, and knowledge to do all kinds of work.” Bezalel was, in many ways, the Michelangelo of the Hebrews—perhaps even their Leonardo da Vinci—a master craftsman, architect, and artist all in one. He personally built the Ark of the Covenant, the very heart of the tabernacle where God’s presence would dwell. The Ark was a masterpiece of divine design—crafted from acacia wood, overlaid with pure gold, and crowned by cherubim whose wings overshadowed the mercy seat. But Bezalel also designed the enormous veil that separated the Ark from the rest of the sanctuary. His greatest creation, the masterpiece of his inspired craftsmanship, would remain hidden behind a curtain—seen only by the High Priest, and even then, only once a year. What a strange paradox for an artist: to labor on something so magnificent that no human eye would ever see it.
That veil, however, carried a message far greater than its woven beauty. As Max Lucado writes, “A great curtain hung as a reminder of the distance between God and man. It was like a deep chasm… God could have left it like that. He could have, you know. But He didn’t.” The curtain was both a symbol and a barrier—a constant reminder that sin separated humanity from the Holy One. But God had a plan to bridge that chasm. Lucado continues, “God Himself bridged the chasm. In the darkness of an eclipsed sun, He and a Lamb stood in the Holy of Holies. He laid the Lamb on the altar—not the lamb of a priest or a Jew or a shepherd, but the Lamb of God. The angels hushed as the blood of the Sufficient Sacrifice began to fall on the golden altar. Where had dropped the blood of lambs, now dripped the blood of life. ‘Behold the Lamb of God.’ And then it happened. God turned and looked one last time at the curtain. ‘No more.’ And it was torn … from top to bottom.”
In that moment, everything changed. What had once been hidden was now revealed. What had once been forbidden was now freely open. The veil that Bezalel so skillfully wove became the very fabric God Himself would tear apart to welcome His children home. Through Christ, the true and final Ark of God’s presence, the invitation rings clear and personal: “Come on in.”
