To the ancient Israelite, the world was a perilous place. Not only did most people live a subsistence lifestyle, where daily bread was a literal concern, but they were surrounded by hostile supernatural forces. God’s choice of Israel was a blessing, but it came on the heels of the terrible judgment at the Tower of Babel, where all the other nations were allotted to the dominion of lesser gods (Deut. 32:8–9). Israel was alone against the world.
This worldview operated in tandem with an idea fundamental to biblical theology: the holiness of God. God was holy; therefore, the things associated with him were holy or had to be made holy. Wherever the presence of God was to be found, that place was by definition holy ground. The most obvious example is the territory encompassed by the tabernacle and, later, the temple. Only priests—people who had been made holy (set apart or “sanctified” by ritual acts) were allowed on that holy ground.
The concept was actually broader. While the Israelites journeyed to the promised land, holy ground was also equated with the entire camp of Israel since the ark located within the Holy of Holies was at the center of the camp (Num. 2–3). This is why, in the Day of Atonement ceremony, the goat that bore the sins of the nation was driven out of the camp (Lev. 16). Sin has no place on holy ground.
Once the Israelites settled in the promised land—God’s domain—the entire land was considered holy ground. Everywhere outside Israel was unholy.
Some odd episodes in the Old Testament are understandable in light of this worldview. In 2 Kings 5 we read the story of Naaman, the Syrian captain who had leprosy. Once miraculously healed, Naaman asked the prophet Elisha if he could load his mule with dirt to take home with him. The request seems ridiculous, but isn’t. Naaman recognized that Yahweh of Israel was the true God (2 Kings 5:15), so Naaman wanted to take some holy ground back with him to Syria, which was ruled by another god, Rimmon (2 Kings 5:18). Similarly, when David was driven out of Israelite territory, he complains that he had been told to go worship other gods (1 Sam. 26:17–20). We might wonder why David would care. Didn’t he realize he could worship God everywhere? He actually didn’t. The tabernacle and the priesthood were in Israel—holy ground. He was not.
This conceptual framework is significant for New Testament theology. The presence of God no longer lives in the temple or any one place. Instead, the Presence dwells in each believer (Eph. 2:22; 3:17; James 4:5). We are the temple of God, individually and corporately (1 Cor. 3:16; 6:19). We are holy ground, and we ought to take the concept as seriously as biblical people did.