Not Just Like Him - in Himਨਮੂਨਾ

Day 4 - A Royal Priesthood

If you’re anything like me, you’ve probably looked at pastors, preachers, or authors and thought, “Wow, they’ve really made it as Christians.” Or maybe you’ve subtly wondered, “If I just did things like that person, then I would be so much better.”

But Peter writes that this new, chosen family God has created is a “royal priesthood”(1 Peter 2:9) —and that includes you and me. That sounds like a pretty high calling. So what does it actually mean to live a life of purpose as a priest?

What would you say your number one purpose in life is? Many of us might say it’s to love God, serve God or to tell of His greatness—which is good. But Scripture reminds us: our deepest purpose begins with being loved by God (Jude 1:1). That love comes first. Priests are first called to live in continual communion with God. Everything else flows from that.

We’re not called just to witness, but to with-ness. The main role of a priest isn’t to complete tasks or perform rituals—it’s to be with God. Jesus says, “I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit. Apart from me, you can do nothing.” (John 15:5, NIV).

From that place of abiding comes our purpose—and how we’re called to show up in the world. That’s the kind of priesthood Peter encourages his readers to live into. Through Jesus, every single believer is now called to be a priest offering spiritual sacrifices to God (anything that we do in service to God can be thought of as a spiritual sacrifice).

But let’s be honest: we don’t always get this right. When I was in kids ministry, I had a goal—I never wanted to teach kids something I wasn’t trying to live myself. So when I’d teach, “Forgive each other,” then go home and replay a hurtful conversation with a coworker in my head all night—well, I knew something was off!

Part of Peter’s own story is learning to put down the sword. He tried to fight for Jesus with force—cutting off the ear of the soldier who came to arrest Him. But Jesus? He healed that man. Peter reacted with anger. Jesus responded with compassion, offering healing to someone who came to harm Him. He invited the soldier to a personal encounter with the kindest person he had ever met.

We see this same spirit in another story of radical forgiveness. Corrie Ten Boom, a Christian Holocaust survivor, tells of her sister Betsie’s dream while they were still in a concentration camp. Before Betsie died in the camp, she saw a house with green walls, flower boxes in the windows, and a broad staircase. It was a place not only for survivors—but for their camp guards. A place where healing could happen. Where people who had caused deep harm could learn to love again.

Like Jesus, and like Betsie, do we offer love to those who have offended us? Do we pause to listen to those who have hurt us—or even just disagree with us? As part of this royal priesthood, we are called to something bigger.

Jesus’ love and mercy extends to everyone. And sometimes, the hardest person to believe that for is ourselves. Sometimes, it’s hardest to believe for the person who has hurt us, or who lives in hypocrisy.

That doesn’t mean we wave a magic wand and pretend there aren’t consequences. And it certainly doesn’t mean we stay silent in the face of abuse or injustice. If you’re in a harmful situation, seek help.

But the invitation of being in God’s big story is this: there’s a place in God’s story for all who respond to His love. And as priests, we get to live that out—with humility, with courage, and with hearts that stay connected to His.

Reflection: What does it mean to me that my primary purpose is to be loved by God? We often spend more time thinking about what we should be thinking or feeling about God, over what God is actually thinking and feeling towards me. What might God be thinking and feeling about me right now?