Scroll 15 - The Veil

The Illusion of Separation Torn by Flame

“And the veil of the temple was rent in twain from the top to the bottom.” — Mark 15:38
“Nevertheless when one turns to the Lord, the veil is taken away. Now the Lord is that Spirit: and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty.” — 2 Corinthians 3:16–17

1. The Curtain Between Worlds

The veil is not cloth, but consciousness. It was never merely the barrier in a temple, but the illusion in the mind, the sense that God is there, and you are here. Since Eden, the soul has lived under a divided sky, perceiving light as distant and holiness as inaccessible. But the Lamb tore that illusion apart. When His flesh was rent, the unseen was unveiled. The separation between God and man was not repaired, it was abolished.

Yet though the veil has been torn in the heavens, it still hangs in many hearts. Religion, fear, shame, and self-effort keep men living as if it were still whole. The greatest deception of the age is not sin but separation, for it convinces the beloved to stand outside what they already inhabit. The veil remains only where the mind refuses to see what the Spirit has made one.

To live behind the veil is to worship from distance; to live beyond it is to breathe union. Every prayer shifts from begging to being, from “come, Lord” to “You are here.” When the veil is gone, the language of exile dies, and the consciousness of Eden is restored.

2. The Veil of Flesh and Form

The veil takes many shapes, doctrines, perceptions, self-images, even the body itself. It is the filter through which humanity interprets light. But every veil is thin, every form transparent when the inner eye opens. The body was never meant to imprison the spirit, but to reveal it. When the Lamb’s light shines within, even flesh becomes luminous.

In His incarnation, Christ showed the mystery: divinity veiled in humanity, eternity wrapped in dust. Yet the veil did not diminish His light; it made it visible. Likewise, your form is not your limit but your lens. The Spirit uses your humanity to refract glory into creation. To despise your form is to misunderstand your throne.

As you awaken, the veil of flesh becomes translucent. Your eyes see through density. Your words pierce illusion. Even your breath becomes a carrier of light. For the Lamb in you has made your body His dwelling, the temple veil has become the temple flame.

3. The Veil of the Mind

More stubborn than the veil of flesh is the veil of thought. It is woven from inherited beliefs, generational perceptions, and the languages of fear. This veil does not hang before the eyes but within them. It tells you God is far, that union is fantasy, that holiness is earned. But every strand of this veil burns when the fire of revelation descends.

Transformation begins not by destroying the veil, but by beholding the truth behind it. As Paul wrote, “We all, with unveiled faces, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are changed.” The mind unveils by seeing rightly. Illusion cannot survive vision. When you see from union, the mind no longer builds walls; it becomes a window.

This unveiling is not instant but progressive. Every lie replaced by truth, every shadow pierced by light, every wound healed by recognition. Slowly, thought aligns with eternity until nothing in you opposes the radiance of what already is.

4. The Veil in Religion

The greatest strongholds are not in governments or demons, but in pulpits. Religion, for all its devotion, often rebuilds what the Lamb has torn. It thrives on the distance between God and man, on the idea that holiness must be attained. It veils the elect by teaching separation in the name of devotion, turning sons into servants and temples into theaters.

This is Babylon’s craft: to sell access to what is already yours. To convince you that mediators are required, that rituals replace revelation, that presence must be summoned. But when the veil was rent, every hierarchy fell. The way into the holiest was opened , not for clergy, but for all.

The true Ekklesia is not gathered behind a pulpit, but unveiled in spirit. It functions from heaven to earth, not earth to heaven. Its priests are flames, its altar is union, its offering is self. Religion guards a torn curtain; the sons walk through it.

5. Living Beyond the Veil

To live beyond the veil is to live as one who has never left Eden. The flame within becomes your awareness, the throne within your resting place. No thought, no season, no shadow can separate you from what has already merged. In this state, prayer is not words but communion, worship is not sound but sight.

You walk as the temple, not toward it. You carry the holy of holies within your breath. Heaven is not a realm you visit, but a frequency you reveal. The unveiled life is effortless, not because it lacks challenges, but because it no longer divides them from God’s working. Every moment is an altar. Every heartbeat is incense. Every breath proclaims: It is finished.

When the veil falls, nothing ordinary remains. Stones shimmer with radiance, people reflect eternity, and creation itself vibrates with presence. For when the veil is gone, you see what always was: Christ in all, and all in Christ.

6. The Last Veil - The Self

Even after all outer veils fall, one still whispers: I. The final illusion is selfhood, the idea that you and God are two. This veil is subtle, gilded with humility yet rooted in separation. It says, “I surrender to You,” instead of “You are my being.” But when this veil dissolves, there is no more surrender, only oneness.

The Lamb did not come to improve you; He came to include you. When you awaken to this, the veil of identity tears, and divine selfhood emerges. You become what you beheld, flame within flame, voice within voice. The soul ceases striving to become and simply is.

The final unveiling is not loss of individuality, but the revelation of true identity, the self as expression of the I AM. You remain uniquely you, but the illusion of separation ceases. The veil of duality falls, and the mirror shows only flame.

7. The Eternal Call

Beloved, the veil was torn so that your seeing could be whole again. Do not rebuild what the Lamb has shattered. Step through, not by effort, but by awareness. Every breath is the other side. Every heartbeat says union.

You are not waiting to be invited into glory, you are the dwelling of it. Let your mind cease its running, let your heart cease its reaching. Stand still in the flame, and behold that nothing separates. For the veil is not before you, it is behind you.

Live unveiled, and the world unveils with you. For when sons walk in clarity, creation breathes again. The veil was never meant to return — it is finished, and the throne is open.

Joe Restman
Scroll-Carrier, Mystic-Scribe, Eternal Witness of the Lamb.