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My mom always had these big, Kirkland’s-looking curtains in our living room—the kind with soft embroidery and tassels, hanging perfectly in the windows like they belonged in a magazine. That’s what I used to picture every time I read about the curtain tearing when Jesus died on the cross. But here’s the reality: ”At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook, the rocks split (Matthew 27:51, NIV).” The curtain in Gospel of Matthew 27:51 wasn’t decorative… and it definitely wasn’t light. It was massive—about 60 feet high, 30 feet wide, and four inches thick. It wasn’t something you could casually pull back. It was more like a wall—heavy, intentional, immovable. A barrier designed to guard something sacred… This curtain separated the rest of the world from the Holy of Holies—the place in the temple where God’s presence dwelled on earth. Only the high priest could enter. Only once a year. Only after intense preparation. This wasn’t just tradition—it was protection. Because God is holy… and we are not. The curtain existed to keep what was sacred in—and what was sinful out. Which means… You and I were on the outside. Let that sink in for a bit. Our sin wasn’t small. It wasn’t light. It created a real separation between us and God—a veil we couldn’t move, no matter how hard we tried. But then came Good Friday. When Jesus died, everything changed. At the moment of His final breath, that curtain—the one no human could tear—was ripped from top to bottom. Not from the bottom up. From the top down. God did it. Jesus carried our sin to the grave and removed the barrier that had stood for generations. The “secret” of God’s presence was no longer hidden behind walls and rituals. Love was unleashed. A holy, relentless, uncontainable love that refused to stay separated from us. No wonder the ground shook. No wonder the sky darkened. Something eternal had shifted. There was no more curtain! As we walk through Holy Week and step into Good Friday, it’s easy to rush ahead to the celebration of Easter morning. But don’t miss this moment. Sit here for a second. The barrier is gone. For thousands of years, people longed to be close to God—to access His presence, to know Him personally. And now? We don’t just visit His presence. We carry it. “Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own (1 Corinthians 6:19, NIV).” It’s mind-blowing that we are now temples—that God’s Spirit lives and breathes within us. Not because we earned it. Not because we got it all right. But because the curtain tore. So before we rush to resurrection, let’s pause and let this sink in: You are no longer separated from God. There is no wall. No veil. No distance. Only access. Only grace. Only love. Journaling Prompt What “curtains” do I still believe are separating me from God—and what would it look like to truly live like they’ve already been torn? Reflection Questions
Prayer
Jesus, Thank You for tearing what I never could. Thank You for removing the barrier that stood between me and the Father. Forgive me for the ways I still live like I’m on the outside—like I have to strive, prove, or perform to be close to You. Help me to slow down this Holy Week and truly take in what You’ve done. Let the reality of Your sacrifice settle deep in my heart. Teach me to live like the curtain is gone. To walk in Your presence. To rest in Your love. And as I step into Good Friday, remind me that even in the heaviness… Your love has already made a way. Amen.
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AuthorKaley Rivera Thompson is an author, copywriter, Bible teacher, speaker, and worship leader. When she's not championing other women, cheering on the rising generation, writing or playing her guitar, Kaley loves to sip strong coffee, go on hikes, or take a day trip to the mountains with her family. She takes the most pride in being a mom to three little girls, Lina, Lili and Ceci. You can follow her on instagram at @kriverathompson or find out more on her website at kriverathompson.com. Archives
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