It doesn't really matter whether you are talking about a king or president, the general of an army, the captain of a ship. There is always a separate place for the one in charge. Part of it relates to status. The palace, or residence, is part of the office, an acknowledgement that those who make the grander decisions deserve the grander surroundings. But there is more to it.
There is something in human nature that tends to trivialize the familiar. No matter how grandiose, how impressive a sight or personage, we become inured over time. It doesn't simply apply to people. Most of us tend to become accustomed to most things around us, no matter how special, if we are exposed often enough. We lose the mystery. We lose the wonder, the awe. And perhaps this trait, more than simply a desire for the largest house on the block, set the custom among men of the leader dwelling apart. Or perhaps it was the reflection of a different kind of king.
When God established the people of Israel in the promised land, He too had a dwelling place apart from the people. They could approach Him at the tabernacle, and later the temple, but only so near. Beyond a certain point, only the priests were permitted. And beyond that, in the Holy of Holies, only the High Priest dared to go once a year to make atonement for the people. A rope was tied about his waist in case he offended during the sacrifice.
The people of Israel were called to present themselves to God at sacrifices and festivals several times a year. In human realms, things were seldom so regular. Depending on how large the kingdom and where a person lived, you could pass your entire life and hear little about the king. Or you might see him at a distance, but few would ever really know him. And this takes us to one of the great tragedies in modern Christianity: So many who profess to believe do not know the one they claim. More than that, they refuse to know Him.
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