God tells us in His Word that as His people we are to come out from the world, and to be separate from it. This separation, this distinction, is what holiness means. To be holy is to be set apart.
The fundamental point of holiness is to have God make a distinction in His people between righteous living, and lives of corruption. “Wherefore come out from among them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord, and touch not the unclean thing; and I will receive you” (2 Cor. 6:17).
We can also make something holy by setting it apart from common use—we wouldn’t use a communion tray as a cake platter at a church potluck, for example. But even this kind of thing is simply an audio-visual help, enabling us to understand the difference between sin and righteousness. David ate the showbread, and it would be lawful and right for us to use the communion trays in some sort of comparable emergency.
Just as the altar sanctifies the gold, and not the other way around, so also, the physical accoutrements of worship are sanctified by our actual worship, proceeding from our actual realization of a humble and contrite heart. All of this applies most forcefully, most centrally, when we are contemplating the construction of a sanctuary.
We want a place that reminds us of the inconsistency between a house of worship Sunday morning, and a time of loose living Saturday night. That loose living can take many forms—raunchy movies, corrupt friends, ungodly parties, envious snark and complaining, and all the rest of that unsightly crew. So when our sanctuary is built, we want you to come into it prepared to reason in a “how much more” fashion. As this place seems inconsistent with the movie I watched last night, how much more is it inconsistent with the presence of Christ’s Holy Spirit in my heart, hands, mouth and life?
So let the stones cry out.