23 January 2025

Every Christian is a priest.

PRIEST prist noun. An ordained minister of the Roman Catholic Church, Orthodox Church, or Church of England, having authority to perform certain rites and administer certain sacraments.
2. A person who performs the religious ceremonies and duties of a religion.
3. A mallet used to kill the fish one catches when angling.
[Priestlike 'pris(t).laɪk adjective, priestly 'pris(t).li adjective.]

I pulled this definition out of the dictionary. I hadn’t heard definition #3 before; I included it ’cause it amuses me.

Y’notice it either says a priest is an ordained minister of a liturgical church, or implies it’s some person who does the rituals in some other religion. But definition #2 in fact applies to Christianity too. If you perform religious ceremonies, duties, rituals, or whatever else in your church, you’re being a priest.

Yes, you. ’Cause you’re a priest. Every Christian is.

It was after all God’s intention to create a kingdom of priests, a holy nation. Ex 19.6, 1Pe 2.9 So Jesus made his followers—us Christians—his priests. A kingdom of priests to our God. Rv 1.6, 5.10 Every Christian can minister to fellow Christians; therefore every Christian is a priest.

Yeah okay, elders in particular tend to get called to do these duties. Rightly so, because they generally know what they’re doing. They’re mature enough to perform priestly functions correctly. They can preach, prophesy, lead us in worship, perform baptisms, anoint sick people, distribute communion, lay hands on people for dedication or commission or anointing, intercede for others in prayer, and perform weddings. (Although the state tends to get picky about who can do that last one, separation of church and state regardless.)

Because the ancient Christians’ elders were usually the ones doing these priestly duties, over time the Greek word for elder, πρεσβύτερος/presvýteros, came to mean “priest” in those churches. (Technically that’s inaccurate; the ancient Greek word for priest is ἱερεύς/yereýs.) The rest of us just translate it “elder” or “presbyter.” So yeah, when liturgical churches read the bible, they read the qualifications for elders just a bit differently than we do; they’re looking for the critieria for priests.

But again: Every Christian is a priest. A new believer can anoint and heal a sick person, same as any elder. God can use anybody, y’know.

Still, whenever we’re sick, and want a fellow Christian to pray for us, whom do we usually go to? Right you are: An elder. A mature Christian. Not some newbie, who doesn’t yet have the hang of hearing the Holy Spirit; not some longtimer who lacks spiritual maturity. We want someone whom we know can minister properly. Some Christians won’t permit anybody to minister to ’em but an elder; and in many cases they only want the senior pastor of their church, ’cause they’re sure that guy knows God. (Hopefully so!)

That’s why, when a newbie comes running to the front of the church, hoping to preach a little something, they’re not automatically gonna get the microphone. We tend to keep priestly functions in the elders’ hands. We permit newbies to do it only under an elder’s supervision and training.

Or, of course, when there’s absolutely no one else available. Or, let’s be honest, when they’re the pastors’ kids. Or when nobody else knows how to play the piano so well. Or when they’re interns who’ve been really good at hiding their hypocrisy whenever the grown-ups are around. Let’s be honest; we’ve got a few cracks in the system. But generally we’ve screened people before they minister as priests.

Oh yeah: I should mention many of the same Christians who claim presvýteros means “priest,” never ever translate πρεσβυτέρας/presvytéras, “elder women,” 1Ti 5.2 as “priestesses.” Relax. I’ll get to that.

Old Testament priesthood.

In ancient times, same as today, anybody could call themselves a priest. Takes chutzpah to claim you know God, or how to access him and determine his will. Hopefully it’s true—but as we all know, it’s not always. The tricky part is getting other people to believe you, and come to you to be ministered to.

Anybody can likewise claim God made ’em an apostle, and maybe start a church. Will anyone attend? Well, sometimes. But take these humble beginnings, wait a couple generations, and you’ve got an organized religion.

Ideally the religion would recruit kings, ’cause kings make really influential followers; especially when they force everybody into their kingdom to join your religion! Of course, if we’re talking a fake religion, it wouldn’t be long before the kings realized it was more profitable to run the scam than be run by it. If they hadn’t already declared themselves gods (as did the Egyptian pharaohs), they often made themselves important priests, even head priests, of their religions. That’s what we see all over antiquity. There’s Melchizédek in Genesis, there are the Maccabee/Hasmonean kings of Jerusalem, and the pagan emperors of Rome made themselves the pontifex maximus/“chiefest priest” of Jupiter.

Priesthood tended to be hereditary. Grandpa was a priest, Dad was a priest, and so were you, and your sons after you. Wasn’t necessarily because there was something special in your bloodline; that’s just how all trades worked back then. Priesthood would just be the family business. In the Law, the LORD assigned the entire tribe of Levi to function as his priests. Nu 3.6 This was Moses and Aaron’s tribe. Aaron was made the first head priest, and only Aaron’s descendants could become head priests.

Priests were required to be physically perfect. They couldn’t intermarry with other tribes. They had to remain ritually clean. They were expected to keep the temple clean and ready; officiate at prayers, sacrifices, and dedications; declare people and things clean or unclean, guilty or innocent; and minister by performing all the rituals of the Hebrew religion.

Now, that’s the Law. We don’t know how well people stuck to it. Considering the Prophets’ complaints, I’m betting they didn’t. It appears there were sometimes priests who weren’t Levite. Fr’instance Samuel ben Elkanah, a prophet and judge—and a descendant of Joseph, not Levi—was permitted to perform priestly duties. Probably on account of his parents dedicating him to the LORD and having the priests raise him.

The king of Israel was also a huge exception. Kingly and priestly duties regularly overlapped. In Psalm 2 we read of how the Israelis thought of their king (or at least how their kings thought of themselves): God “gave birth” to them, Ps 2.7 adopted them as his sons, and they had the right to ask their Father for anything—including “the ends of the earth.” Ps 2.8

No, the kings of Israel weren’t allowed to perform all the priestly duties. King Uzziah ben Amaziah tried burning incense in temple, and God struck him down with leprosy, making it impossible for him to ever go to temple again. 2Ch 26.16-21 But like David ben Jesse, they were permitted to lead worship. Like Solomon ben David, they could officiate at prayers, sacrifices, and dedications. Like Hezekiah ben Ahaz, they could intercede with God for their nation. And all this applies to Jesus, the ultimate Messiah, who’s our head priest. He 6.20, 8.1

Christian priesthood.

As Messiah’s followers, we Christians fall under Messiah’s priesthood. As his followers, we’re his priests.

Whenever Christians use “priesthood” type language, the first thing people think of are our rituals. (And sometimes weird secret stuff—even though we Christians aren’t supposed to have any weird secret stuff. Blame the Mormons for this one.) Yeah, sometimes we do rituals, like communion and baptisms. But most of the time we serve as priests simply through “being Jesus” to others: Since Jesus isn’t physically here, and we are, we function as his representatives. We demonstrate God’s kingdom through our good deeds. We share Jesus’s grace and forgiveness with the world. And one another.

Like I said, every Christian is meant to do this. We’re all meant to grow into mature Christians, and serve one another and the world in “the priesthood of all believers,” as Protestants put it. Problem is, this isn’t always what happens.

The most obvious example: Those churches which refuse to permit women to minister. Even though women apostles, Jn 20.17-18, Ro 16.7 evangelists, Jn 4.29, Pp 4.3 prophets, Ac 21.9 teachers, Ac 18.26 and elders 1Co 16.19, 2Ti 4.19, Pm 1.2 are in the New Testament, these churches pretend these examples were first-century flukes. Or even that the women weren’t even there—like when the Amplified Bible translates Ἰουνίαν/Yunían, properly translated “Junia,” as “Junias,” Ro 16.7 AMP and adds words to the text lest people think, as Paul implied, that she’s an apostle. Yeah, it’s sexism, justified by unhistorical bible interpretations. They insist women can’t serve at all—or they can only serve women and children, but certainly never men. Really, these folks deliberately choose an interpretation which permits ’em to institutionalize sexism… and in so doing, quench everything the Holy Spirit does through his daughters.

Forbidding women from ministry is a legitimate outrage. But more often, bellyaching comes from immature or sinful Christians who covet leadership positions, and wanna know why they don’t get to perform baptisms, lead prayers, or preach. Or why their fellow Christians never come to them for these things: How come nobody ever comes to them for spiritual advice? How come nobody asks them to pray for them? How come Pastor gets all the attention, not them? And really it’s not because they want to serve more: They figure these ministry positions come with authority, power, and honor. That’s what they desire. Not to give, but receive.

Now, the immature Christians have a point: If all Christians are priests, of course they’re priests too. But as I’ve said, immature Christians make lousy ministers—as the leaders of our churches often learn the hard way. Immature Christians make loveless prophets. Graceless preachers. Performance-focused worship leaders. Hypocritical prayer leaders. Gossipy confessors. I’ve been burned by immature Christians many times. You don’t want these people in charge of anyone, in positions where they’ll do real and lasting harm. Reserving these jobs for elders just makes sense.

So if you wanna function as a priest in your church, work on your maturity. Pitch in at your church. Develop spiritual fruit. Focus on getting the job done, not on the honor and praise you feel you merit because of your job title. Be like Jesus to other people. He came to serve, not to be served. Mk 10.45 Once people see Christlike maturity in you, they’ll seek you out.