Leveling (up) the priesthood
What do you think of when you hear the term “priest?” For many people, and especially those from a Catholic background, you might picture a man in a black shirt with a white collar. Certain Christian traditions, including Catholic, Orthodox, and Episcopal, refer to their clergy as priests. You might conjure images from popular culture, such as the priest in the movie The Exorcist or, if your tastes include low-budget movies, the lead character in The VelociPastor. If you’re a comic book reader, you might have encountered the latest iteration of Daredevil’s secret identity, Matt Murdock, who is currently a Catholic priest.
We probably all have different images of priests, ranging from positive to negative based on our experiences. In today’s scripture reading from Hebrews, the author talks extensively about priests, and seems to have the assumption that they are held in high regard by the audience. Historically, priests had been chosen based on lineage and birth order. You might recall that Aaron, the brother of Moses, was specially designated by God to be a priest. Aaron was from the Jewish tribe of Levi, and the religious leaders that came from that tradition were referred to as the “Levitical priesthood.”
Priests in the time of Moses and for a few centuries that followed played a different role than they did at the time Hebrews was written. You can read in the Torah, or books of the law, about the detailed rituals by which animals, large and small, were burnt on altars in some of the oldest Jewish traditions. This was the means by which people made offerings to God, and the priests managed this process. My New Testament professor in seminary described priests of that era as “fancy butchers” to help us understand how different their responsibilities were from those of their successors.
By the time Hebrews was written, things had changed. The burning of large animals was no longer part of worship. Teaching and scripture interpretation seems to have taken on a more important role. And due to “rivalry between priestly families and [their] adoption of hellenistic [or Greek] culture,” the Levitical priesthood no longer had the standing it had previously enjoyed. (Pfitzner, 115)
The author of Hebrews taps into the questioning of the high priesthood in today’s reading. They — I use that pronoun because we don’t know if the author was a man or woman — are making the case that Jesus now bears the mantle of the ultimate high priest. He will reign permanently, because he has conquered death. He doesn’t need to offer sacrifices on his own behalf, because he is sinless. He does not need to offer sacrifices daily, because he offered himself once for all. As Bible scholar Stephen Long writes, “The Levitical priesthood does not perfect. If it did, it would not need to be repeated again and again.” (Long, 127)
In light of new information, a revision of what defines a priest is necessary. Bible scholar Jeffrey Lamp writes that “since Jesus is not descended from the proper tribe to function as a high priest, a new order of priesthood becomes necessary, and when such a priesthood is established, a change in the law is necessary.” (Lamp, 90)
The author of Hebrews is challenging long-standing tradition, because an evolution of the priesthood is in order. A new means of encountering God has been realized, so the need for a human intermediary has passed.
There was a time during seminary when I assumed that, upon graduation, I would seek a job in a conventional church. During my life, I’ve been fortunate to have generally positive experiences in the church. I like much of the music and liturgy you’ll often find in Presbyterian churches, and I appreciate many of the buildings as well. Having grown up amidst the hymns and language of mainline Protestant churches, that atmosphere resonates with me.
At the same time, though, I’ve been aware that many people don’t feel that resonance. Perhaps they’ve had bad experiences in the church. Perhaps they’ve never attended church in the first place. Or maybe they did attend, but over time they had difficulty reconciling the teachings of Jesus with the actions of many pastors and church members.
I saw people within the church who seemed to have no concern for the well-being of their neighbors. I also saw people who had no association with a church acting in selfless ways in service to the greater good. So I began to have conversations with some of those people, and I learned that they had a yearning for community and interest in encountering the divine; they just didn’t want to look for them in a conventional church.
These observations, plus some nudging from the Holy Spirit, led to the creation of the Intertwined faith community. Intertwined was to be a place for those who had left the church, those who had never attended church, and those who encounter the divine most easily outdoors to safely sojourn together.
So I was equipped with a mission, but I had no idea how to proceed. In such a community, what is the role of the pastor? What elements of being a pastor should I retain from the established church, and what should be different?
Keep in mind that Intertwined was born in the wake of COVID, so creating a community informed by that experience seemed prudent. Thus, the role of pastor would include maintaining an online presence. I began posting spiritual practices to Instagram on a regular cadence, as well as longer, biweekly reflections on scripture. My hope was that the online presence would offer a place to stay connected and learn, especially for those folks who couldn’t attend gatherings regularly.
Once the online presence was created, I began to discern what my role would be at our in-person gatherings. And where would we meet, since we had no building? I began offering times for coffee and pizza in public spaces, such as coffee shops and microbreweries. My hope was that meeting in a neutral space would be more comfortable for people than an office. We were also fortunate in that the City of Harrisburg agreed to allow us to use a wooded space on City Island for most of our Sunday gatherings, which we refer to as Peace Out(doors).
In many churches, the sermon is a central and weekly component of worship. The pastor is stationed at the front of the sanctuary, and the members of the congregation are largely passive participants. As I thought about what Peace Out(doors) would look like, I tried to identify ways to make my role smaller. Thus, we sit in a circle. Reflections like the one I’m sharing now are not part of our gatherings, but rather made available online. Participants besides me do the readings. Instead of a scripted prayer, I try to provide prompts for prayer so that everyone present can engage silently as they see fit. That is true of our centering time as well.
A key feature of Peace Out(doors) is the fellowship time, when those present can share their thoughts on the readings. We have much to learn from one another, and my hope is that including such a space provides those opportunities.
I don’t share all this to fish for praise, nor to suggest that all faith communities should operate this way. But if someone were to claim we’re doing it wrong, I’d want them to explain the standard against which we were being compared. Intertwined might not measure well on a scale of tradition, but I’d suggest we are tapping into roots of our faith that existed before many of the traditions around them were constructed.
In the verses that precede today’s scripture passage, the author of Hebrews tries to make a similar argument. They cite the ancient name of Melchizedek, a priest mentioned in the book of Genesis. Bible scholar Victor Pfitzner suggests that “by relating Christ to Melchizedek, [the author] is implying that the new priesthood is actually a return to an original order.” (Pfitzner, 116) Melchizedek’s priesthood is eternal and heavenly, so it comes closer to the that of Christ than did the intervening Levitical order. (Long, 126)
Bible scholar Fred Craddock writes that Jesus’s “sympathy for us because he was one of us and his access to God as one appointed of God and who is now at God’s right hand join as the twin credentials qualifying him to intercede on our behalf.” (Craddock, 560) No longer were there to be areas of the worship space restricted only to priests. God had come to humankind, and clergy were no longer required to bridge the gap between people and the divine. The curtain in the temple was torn when the crucifixion occurred, and God’s people were now free to approach at will.
This is not to say that you won’t find varying interpretations or influence of this in different parts of the church. In some worship spaces, you’ll still find areas restricted to clergy. You’ll also still find priests who act as intermediaries for those who wish to confess their sins. And in many traditions, the sacraments of baptism and communion are officiated only by ordained ministers. There are reasons behind this, but I think discussions around why are healthy, especially for faith communities who come from the Reformed tradition. After all, we’ve seen space created for new things in just the past few years. It wasn’t that long ago that the idea of people partaking in communion at home while watching church online was not even being discussed.
Stephen Long writes, “Hebrews addresses the question, How do we see the true power of the priest who offers a better hope when he does not seem to rule?” (Long, 127) Jesus often addressed matters of authority. He spoke of his coming kin-dom looking quite different from those of humankind. Thus we wait and hope for glimpses of that kin-dom, and a manner of rule that elevates all of us, especially those whom earthly powers would marginalize.
I take today’s passage to suggest a leveling of the playing field when it comes to priesthood. By that I mean there are roles sometimes taken on by pastors that could be taken on by other Jesus-followers. That’s not to say there’s no role for pastors in our evolving faith communities, but I think that role should be reconsidered in some instances. Should a weekly sermon continue to be the centerpiece of Sunday worship, even knowing that it can take (at least for me) ten hours to do the requisite research, writing, rehearsal, and recording? Might that time be better spent engaged in public witness or doing outreach in the community?
If realization of the kin-dom of God depended on the pastors of the world, the outlook would not be good. You don’t have to go far to find stories about church leaders who have stolen funds or harmed church members. As today’s passage infers, pastors are subject to the same shortcomings as everyone else.
Those of us who have gone through the ordination process do have some things to offer, though. We take courses in pastoral care, theology, and biblical studies. Ideally, we’re good at talking to people, helping them sort through what they believe, and teaching about scripture and spirituality. But I don’t have all the answers, and sometimes I offer the wrong ones. The thoughts and perspectives of other Intertwined sojourners help address my gaps.
I’m fortunate that, thanks to those who support Intertwined, I have a lot of time to devote to our mission. But Intertwined is a community comprised of many people who contribute in a variety of ways. Every contribution one of us makes is valuable, whether that comes in the form of sharing posts online, attending our gatherings, participating in service opportunities, or telling others about what we do. Those are the things that help us grow, and our collective reach is great.
The “priesthood of all believers” is a term used in an old creed called the Second Helvetic Confession, which dates back to 1561. It states that, since Christ is the only one who warrants the title “we do not impart the name of priest to any minister.” This was probably in part a dig at the Catholic church from which the Protestants split, but also took into account today’s passage from Hebrews. What they were saying was that continuing the mission of Jesus is the call of everyone who follows him. Jeffrey Lamp goes so far as to say that “in the Melchizedekian priesthood of Christ, human beings should establish covenantal righteousness on behalf of Earth, bringing together ideas of right action and mercy to help Earth achieve its destiny to become the dwelling place of God.” (Lamp, 93)
That seems aspirational, but then again, that’s what faith is all about. And I’m grateful to be sojourning this path of right action and mercy with you.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
Works Referenced
Craddock, Fred B. “Hebrews.” In New Interpreter’s Bible, Volume X. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2015.
Lamp, Jeffrey S. Hebrews: An Earth Bible Commentary: A City That Cannot Be Shaken. London: t&t clark, 2020. Kindle edition.
Long, D. Stephen. Hebrews. (BELIEF: A Theological Commentary on the Bible). Louisville, Kentucky: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011. Kindle edition.
Pfitzner, Victor C. Hebrews. (Abingdon New Testament Commentaries). Nashville, Tennessee: Abingdon Press, 1997.
