Thought Tapestries

In the dimly lit lecture hall of the theology department, the professor paced before a projected slide displaying the ancient text of Exodus 29, his voice steady as he unpacked the verses for the attentive students. “Here in verse 35 through 37,” he began, “we see the culmination of the ordination ritual: ‘Seven days you shall make atonement for the altar and sanctify it. And the altar shall be most holy. Whatever touches the altar must be holy.’” He paused, adjusting his glasses, ready to elaborate on the sanctity of the tabernacle’s furnishings.

But before he could continue, a hand shot up from the middle row—a young woman with a notebook filled with cross-references. “Professor, that phrasing reminds me of something from my Old Testament Prophets class last semester,” she said, flipping through her pages. “In Ezekiel chapter 44, verse 19, it talks about the priests changing their garments so they don’t transmit holiness to the people. ‘And when they go out into the outer court to the people, they shall put off the garments in which they have been ministering and lay them in the holy chambers. And they shall put on other garments, lest they transmit holiness to the people with their garments.’ Doesn’t that suggest holiness can be contagious, but in a way that’s carefully controlled? How does that square with the altar making things holy upon touch?”

The room stirred, murmurs rippling through the seats as the professor nodded thoughtfully, encouraging the discussion. A student in the back chimed in eagerly, “Yeah, and look at the variations in translations for Exodus 29:37—some say ‘whatever touches the altar shall become holy,’ like in the ESV, implying a transfer, while others like the CSB go with ‘must be holy,’ which sounds more like a requirement. If holiness is contagious like that, why does Haggai 2 say the opposite? Remember, the prophet asks the priests: ‘If one carries holy meat in the fold of his garment, and with the edge he touches bread or stew, wine or oil, or any food, will it become holy?’ And they answer, ‘No.’ But if someone’s unclean from a dead body, that defiles everything it touches. So uncleanness spreads easily, but holiness doesn’t?”

Another voice joined from the front, a guy with a highlighter in hand. “That asymmetry makes sense for the call in Leviticus 19:2—’Be holy because I, the Lord your God, am holy.’ It’s not automatic; it’s a command to pursue it intentionally. And Peter echoes that in the New Testament: ‘But just as He who called you is holy, so be holy in all you do, for it is written: Be holy, because I am holy.’ So maybe the altar’s holiness sanctifies offerings dedicated to God, but for people, it’s about obedience and separation, not casual contact.”

The conversation deepened as more students leaned in, one adding, “But think about seeing God’s face—that’s the ultimate holiness encounter, right? Exodus 33:20 says outright, ‘You cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live.’ Yet Moses comes down from Sinai in chapter 34 with his face shining so brightly that the people are afraid, and he has to veil it. ‘The skin of his face shone because he had been talking with God.’ It’s like he absorbed some reflected glory without dying, but still, it’s mediated.”

A classmate across the aisle nodded vigorously. “Exactly, and Jacob—Israel—wrestles with God in Genesis 32:30 and says, ‘For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life has been delivered.’ He even names the place Peniel, meaning ‘face of God.’ But scholars say that’s a theophany, a veiled appearance, not the full deal. Like in Judges 13:22, Manoah thinks, ‘We shall surely die, for we have seen God,’ after meeting the angel of the Lord. Or Isaiah 6:5: ‘Woe is me! For I am lost… for my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!’ It’s all about God’s mercy in sparing us from His unfiltered holiness.”

The professor smiled, letting the dialogue flow as the class bounced ideas back and forth, weaving threads from the Torah to the prophets and into the epistles. “This is why these texts are alive,” he interjected gently. “The altar’s contagion isn’t about easy holiness—it’s a warning and a promise. In Haggai, the people’s defilement makes their offerings unclean, showing sin’s spread, but Ezekiel guards against unintended sanctification to maintain order. And through it all, the imperative remains: be holy, as God is holy, not by accident, but by choice and grace.” The bell rang, but the students lingered, their notes brimming with connections that bridged centuries of sacred mystery.

Personal note: This one is special to me. Years ago, I came across Exodus 29:37 and was deeply puzzled: Can holiness actually flow to someone or something? I already knew Haggai 2:10–14, along with numerous examples in Leviticus showing how uncleanness spreads from person to object. The contrast troubled me for years. Then I encountered Ezekiel 44:19, and everything clicked. That verse is the heart of this story—after so long wondering, the answer finally came.