The Hidden Heights: The Story of the High Places in Israel

High places are mentioned throughout 1 and 2 Kings, often in passing — but their spiritual significance runs deep. Far more than just hilltop shrines, they became symbols of compromise, idolatry, and a divided heart before God. In this blog, we’ll trace the story of the high places through Israel’s history, explore the gods worshiped there, and uncover the hard truth about why even good kings left them standing — and what that means for us today.

When Solomon’s temple first stood centered in Jerusalem, it must have seemed that Israel had reached the height of her calling. The ark of the covenant rested in its rightful place. Priests ministered. Sacrifices rose like incense to heaven. God’s glory had filled the house.

But even as Solomon dedicated the temple, a cancer was already spreading quietly across the land — a thousand smaller altars, scattered across hills and groves, whispering a different story. They were called the high places.

High Places: Sacred Heights or Spiritual Traps?

The high places (bamot in Hebrew) were elevated or secluded sites of worship. Long before Israel entered the Promised Land, these places were used by the Canaanites to call upon their gods. Often located on hilltops, under groves of trees, or near springs, these sites were filled with sacred stones, incense altars, and wooden poles or carved images.

At the center of this worship were gods like: Baal – the storm and fertility god, believed to control rain, crops, and harvests. Asherah – the mother goddess, associated with fertility, sexuality, and nurturing. Molech – the god of fire and death, to whom children were sometimes sacrificed.

The worship of these gods was deeply sensory and emotionally powerful — involving rituals of rain-dancing, sexual acts with temple prostitutes, feasting, and at times, human sacrifice. These gods promised prosperity, sensual satisfaction, and national security — all without requiring righteousness or covenant loyalty.

What Were Asherah Poles?

A key feature at many high places was the Asherah pole — a wooden symbol or carved image representing the goddess Asherah. Sometimes they were simple tree trunks, other times intricately carved idols. They stood beside altars, symbolizing fertility and the divine feminine, and were often set up even by kings who otherwise claimed allegiance to Yahweh.

What’s startling is how long these poles remained. The people of Israel — and even some of their kings — tried to combine worship of Yahweh with the symbols and rituals of Canaanite religion. An Asherah pole might stand next to an altar to Yahweh, a practice God explicitly condemned. But culturally, it was normalized.

God’s command in Deuteronomy 12:3 was unambiguous:

“Break down their altars, dash in pieces their pillars, and burn their Asherim with fire.” Yet the people often kept them standing — out of fear, habit, political pressure, or simple spiritual apathy.

The Rise and Fall of Kings… and Altars

Through the pages of 1 and 2 Kings, a pattern emerges. Some kings confronted the high places. Others allowed them to linger — quietly, culturally, dangerously.

• Solomon, influenced by his many foreign wives, erected high places for Chemosh and Molech (1 Kings 11:7–8), introducing dark spiritual practices into Israel.

• Asa “did what was right in the eyes of the Lord,” yet “the high places were not taken away” (1 Kings 15:11–14).

• Jehoshaphat was commended for seeking God, but “the people still sacrificed and made offerings on the high places” (1 Kings 22:43).

• Joash restored the temple but failed to remove the high places (2 Kings 12:2–3).

• Only a few, like Hezekiah (2 Kings 18:4) and Josiah (2 Kings 23:13–15), took full action — smashing altars, burning bones, and desecrating the sites beyond use.

Why Did So Many “Good” Kings Leave Them Standing?

This is one of the more sobering questions in Israel’s history. Here are a few possible reasons: Political compromise – Removing high places could provoke tribal tensions or public backlash. Some altars had local significance tied to community identity. Spiritual compromise – Even kings who loved Yahweh struggled with full obedience. Cultural influence runs deep — and partial reform felt safer than full surrender. Generational patterns – Many kings inherited a kingdom with generations of ingrained syncretism. Reforming the nation was not only a religious task, but a massive cultural overhaul. Fear of instability – In times of military or economic pressure, kings may have hesitated to disrupt the familiar — even if it meant disobeying God.

The Silent Drift Toward Destruction

Over time, the high places became more than just local shrines. They became centers of open rebellion against God. Baal worship flourished. Children were burned in sacrifice to Molech in the valley of Hinnom. The spiritual compromise that began as partial obedience ended in full-blown apostasy.

Prophets like Elijah stood alone on Mount Carmel to confront these false gods. Elisha walked among kings and warned them of their idolatry. But the nation’s heart had hardened. The fire of judgment eventually fell — first on Israel (exiled by Assyria), then on Judah (conquered by Babylon). The high places, once lifted up as sacred ground, became symbols of everything God’s people had refused to surrender.

Reflection Question

What are the "high places" in your life that you've grown comfortable with — areas where your devotion to God is compromised by convenience, tradition, or fear?

Take a moment to ask the Holy Spirit to reveal anything that needs to be torn down so that Christ alone reigns in your heart.

The High Places We Leave Untouched

We might not build altars under trees or raise Asherah poles, but the heart behind it hasn’t changed. We still try to worship God on our terms. We still tolerate “high places” in our lives — private sins, cultural conformity, spiritual laziness. We want Jesus and control, and comfort, and the approval of others.

But God is not looking for partial devotion. He’s never been impressed by divided hearts. Jesus told the woman at the well that worship would no longer be about mountains or sacred geography — but about spirit and truth (John 4:23–24). That means surrender, not convenience. Truth, not preference.

Conclusion: Tearing Down the Hidden Altars

The story of the high places is not just about ancient Israel — it’s about us. It challenges us to ask: Have I built places of worship around comfort rather than obedience? Are there things I’ve allowed to remain, generation after generation, because they feel too costly to remove? Am I willing to let God purify my worship — even if it means tearing down something I’ve grown attached to?

Josiah, one of the last righteous kings, tore down every high place he could find. He crushed altars, burned bones, and left no trace. His reforms didn’t save Judah from exile — but his heart honored God, fully and without compromise. May we be like Josiah. May we tear down our high places. And may Jesus alone be lifted up in the temple of our hearts.