“Some transgressions are so terrible that a person who commits them needs more than one life or incarnation to make up for them.” With that single line, the author of Behind The Torn Veil introduces a meaningful and often overlooked idea: that the soul’s journey cannot be contained within the narrow confines of one lifetime. If divine justice is to be real, it must operate beyond a single birth and death. The book invites readers to remove the veil of literalism and step into the world of spiritual continuity—where reincarnation becomes not just a mystical belief, but a necessary key to understanding justice and redemption.

The Bible itself gives us hints. In Exodus 20:5, it is written: “For I the LORD thy God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation.” The author challenges us to reconsider this not as generational punishment, but as spiritual consequence. “If the word ‘father’ implies a person’s previous generation or incarnation,” he explains, “we can see that God is truly just.” The sins of the past self—the “father”—are revisited upon the new incarnation—the “child.” Justice is not blind, it is cyclical. The theme continues in the New Testament. Paul wrote, “Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.” (Galatians 6:7) This reaping does not always occur within one lifetime. The author notes, “Reaping what we sow is not limited to the same time and place in which the act was committed.” Thus, reincarnation becomes the bridge—linking sowing and reaping, sin and redemption, across the span of multiple lives.

One of the most powerful examples in Behind The Torn Veil is the story of Elijah and Jezebel. Elijah, a prophet, slays Jezebel’s followers. In response, she vows revenge: “So let the gods do to me, and more also, if I make not thy life as the life of one of them by to morrow about this time.” (1 Kings 19:2) But that vengeance is not immediate. As the author reveals, it unfolds generations later when Elijah reincarnates as John the Baptist—and Jezebel returns as Herodias, the wife of Herod. She orchestrates John’s execution. “By to morrow” arrives—but only through the passage of lifetimes. This karmic return is not just poetic. It is precision. “Justice delayed is not justice denied,” the author writes in essence. “It is merely adjusted to a higher clock.” This is not about cruelty or punishment—it is about the soul being given space and time to evolve. To face its own deeds. To learn.

That journey is marked not just by judgment, but by opportunity. The author points to Psalm 19:7: “The law of the LORD is perfect, converting the soul.” The focus is not on the body or the mind—it is on the soul. That which reincarnates. That which remembers, even when the conscious mind does not. “The law of cause and effect,” the author explains, “was not created to punish us. It was created to purify us.” Without multiple incarnations, that purification would be incomplete. In Romans 2:12–15, Paul deepens the conversation: “For not the hearers of the law are just before God, but the doers of the law shall be justified… their conscience also bearing witness, and their thoughts the mean while accusing or else excusing one another.” This internal witness is the soul—carrying forward the imprints of all that has been done, even across lifetimes. What we call conscience may, in fact, be the soul’s long memory.

The book also discovers how reincarnation balances the extremes of earthly life. The rich man who dies in abundance, having done evil, may appear to have escaped justice. The innocent who suffers may appear forgotten. But with the law of reincarnation, the story is never over. “Without multiple lifetimes,” the author argues, “divine justice would seem arbitrary and cruel. With it, everything begins to make sense.” The example of Zacchaeus in Luke 19 is also telling. When he offers to restore fourfold all that he wronged, Jesus says, “This day is salvation come to this house.” The author connects this fourfold repayment to the “third and fourth generation” in Exodus, showing that true redemption often requires balancing debts across multiple layers of existence. Not just repentance—but repayment. Not just confession—but transformation.

And if you’ve ever wondered why bad things happen to good people—or how fairness fits into faith—this book may be the answer you didn’t know you were waiting for. As the author reminds us, “God’s justice is not immediate because it is eternal.” And in that eternal space, we are not lost. We are simply finding our way back—life after life—toward the light.