The priest is offering the Eucharistic sacrifice. That’s the short answer. When you see the curtain drawn across the Royal Doors during the Divine Liturgy, the most sacred part of the service is taking place behind the iconostasis.
We call it the veil or sanctuary curtain. It hangs behind the Royal Doors and gets drawn at specific moments during the service. Think of it as a visual cue that something hidden and holy is happening at the altar.
The Temple Connection
The veil points directly back to the Jerusalem Temple. In the Old Testament, a massive curtain separated the Holy of Holies from the rest of the Temple. Only the high priest could enter that inner sanctuary, and only once a year on the Day of Atonement. The Holy of Holies was where God’s presence dwelt in a unique way.
When Christ died, that Temple veil tore in two from top to bottom. The Gospel writers make a point of this. The barrier was destroyed. Access to God was opened through Christ’s death.
But here’s the thing: we still use a veil in our churches. Not because the barrier is back up, but because the mystery remains. Christ opened the way to the Father, yes. And yet what happens at the altar during the Liturgy isn’t casual or ordinary. It’s still the Holy of Holies. We’re still approaching the throne of God.
When It Closes
You’ll see the curtain close at several points during the Liturgy. The pattern isn’t random.
During the Proskomedia, the priest prepares the gifts behind the closed doors and veil. He’s cutting the bread, pouring the wine, commemorating the living and the dead. This happens before most people arrive, but if you come early you’ll notice the sanctuary is veiled.
The veil closes again during the Anaphora. That’s the Eucharistic prayer, the heart of the Liturgy. After the Great Entrance, after we’ve sung the Creed, the priest begins the prayer of offering. The doors close. The curtain draws. And behind that veil, the priest is invoking the Holy Spirit to transform the gifts into the Body and Blood of Christ.
You can’t see what’s happening. That’s intentional. The Church isn’t trying to exclude you or keep secrets. She’s teaching you something about the nature of what’s taking place. This isn’t a performance. It’s not meant to be watched like you’d watch someone cook dinner. The Eucharist is a mystery in the deepest sense, not a puzzle to solve, but a reality too large for our minds to contain.
We stand in the nave and pray. We say “Amen” at the right moments. We bow. But we don’t see the priest’s hands as he elevates the gifts or hear every word he prays. We participate by faith, not by sight.
What the Curtain Means
The closed curtain says several things at once. It says this space is holy. It says God is present here in a particular way. It says what’s happening is both for us and beyond us.
Fr. Alexander Schmemann wrote about the iconostasis and its veil as a threshold between heaven and earth. The sanctuary represents heaven. The nave represents the world. And the iconostasis with its veil isn’t a wall keeping us out but a boundary that makes meeting possible. You need a threshold to have a doorway.
When the veil opens, it’s an announcement. The Gospel procession comes through those open doors because the Gospel is God’s word coming into the world. The chalice comes through at Communion because Christ gives himself to us. But between those moments of opening, the veil closes. The mystery remains hidden even as it’s being accomplished for our salvation.
If you grew up Baptist here in Beaumont, this might feel strange at first. You’re used to seeing everything that happens up front. The Lord’s Supper in most Protestant churches happens in full view, often with the pastor explaining each step. There’s nothing wrong with that approach, but it’s not ours. We believe some things are too holy to be entirely exposed, that reverence sometimes means accepting that we can’t see or understand everything.
Bright Week Is Different
There’s one week each year when the veil stays open the entire time. During Bright Week (the week after Pascha), the Royal Doors stand open and the curtain remains drawn back for every service.
Why? Because the tomb is open. Death is defeated. The barrier is destroyed. For one week the Church celebrates with the doors flung wide, showing that Christ has trampled down death and opened paradise. Then, after Bright Week ends, we return to the normal pattern. Not because the Resurrection is over, but because we still live in a world where the mystery of faith remains a mystery.
The closed curtain isn’t about hiding God from you. It’s about teaching you to approach him with awe, to participate in something bigger than what your eyes can see, to trust that the priest at the altar is doing what Christ commanded even when you can’t watch every moment.
Next time you see that curtain close, remember: the sacrifice is being offered. Heaven is touching earth. And you’re part of it, standing in the nave with the angels and saints, waiting for the doors to open again.
