The focus for today is curtains (and a link to the 'veil' in the Temple or 'curtain' in the Tabernacle), and their use to 'keep out' prying eyes from what is private.

I can only assume the writer hasn't walked through Glasgow in the evening, when unshuttered, uncurtained windows shine with the flickering light of televisions or glow yellowish with electric light.  I pass few homes with net curtains or voiles, and find myself unusual in that I do draw my curtains once it's dark in order to, as my Mum used to say, 'shut out the night'.

I found myself thinking about curtains and privacy, and the 'fake' privacy afforded by curtains in medical settings... There's the nurse who pulls round a curtain while you remove articles of clothing, precisely to walk in and examine whatever is now revealed, as if somehow it is the disrobing that is private not the body part.  Or there's the four bedded bay/room in a ward where the consutlant draws round the curtain and speaks in tones not quite hushed enough of medical diagnoses and implications, whilst those in adjacent beds try not to listen in but cannot help but overhear.

There certainly is a time and place for privacy, and certainly there are times when the swish of the curtain being drawn round a hospital bed/treatment area is a welcome sound.  But I can't help but thinking there is something worth pondering in the permeability of curtains - whether that's light coming in through a voile or net, or sound coming out from treatment area.

Whatever we may claim about the rending of the Temple curtain/veil, there remains a 'something' between us and God, but that something is not totally opaque or sound proof.  Every now and then we catch glimspes of God's smile; every once in a while we hear heaven's laughter; perhaps sometimes we sense God's annoyance or hear God's wracking sobs...  Only when we cross the mysterious threshold of death will we finally see the curtain opened - until then it's slivers of light and whispers of eternity.