Women's Retreat: 2026
Saturday
morning
Lately the Lord has been reminding
me how connected everything in His word is. There is nothing in Old Testament
that is not relevant to the New Testament; likewise there is nothing in
creation that does not shout out the wonder and glory of God.
There is this holy relationship
between everything God touches that creates the whole picture, leading us
straight into the good news of Christ.
These past years this one
particular scripture keeps coming up. In fact I recently went into church, and
guess what scripture was on the screen:
1 Peter 2: 9-10“But you are the ones
chosen by God, chosen for the high calling of priestly work, chosen to be a
holy people, God's instruments to do his work and speak out for him, to tell
others of the night-and-day difference he made for you—from nothing to
something, from rejected to accepted.”
In past retreats I’ve always focused on the night and day
difference he made for us in this scripture, not so much that he’s chosen us
for the high calling of priestly work. The idea of being a priest seemed too
lofty. Me a priest?
Growing up Catholic, to me a priest was someone who attended to
the formality of a faith, it was a religious office and calling. But even the
New Testament speaks about priests a lot; in fact, there are 26 times the word “priest”
is used in the book of Hebrews alone. To think of myself as a priest? I’m not
sure it ever came up. I thought of myself as a servant of God, a daughter and a
friend of the Most High but a priest?
That is until my son sent me something the Lord had given him. I
was once again blown away by how insightful and deep the teaching was. I knew
immediately that I had to share this with all of you at a retreat. That much
was clear. But the question was how? How
to take this meaningful teaching and make it easily understood and relevant for
all of you. To get past the “Oh, Isn’t that interesting” and to get through our
sometimes apathetic mindset of “well, so what?” to be able to move into a deep
understanding of how knowing we are priests can ultimately strengthen us in our
daily walks.
I even struggled with my own apparent apathy, which I chalked up
to my constant pain fed by a foggy trail of pain meds and insufficient sleep.
But I’m old enough in the Lord to understand that I don’t need to rely on
feelings to tell me the truth about my spirituality. Emotions don’t dictate
depth. So I knew that it was something more that had dulled my passion.
The Lord gently showed me that I had moved away from taking time
to intimately commune with Him and that my prayer life had landed firmly in
“the list” territory. You know the list? The one that has all the names of
those who are in need? Now the list in and of itself is not a bad thing. The
needs are great, but I was missing something in my prayer time with the Lord.
He showed me what I was missing was intimacy-another one of those things the
Lord kept repeating to me over the years.
And not just my prayer time. My Bible reading time seemed
stagnant. I was just reading words. But deep inside me I knew it had to be more
than just information. These were
God-breathed words given to us to teach and grow us so how had they become so
one dimensional.
I felt trapped in a desert of information feeling like my
dryness would steal the life right out of the word of God, if that were even
possible.
I’m so grateful that the Lord never gives up on us. If we seek
Him He will be there to show us where to step next. I tell you these things so that you know
where I was when I began with all this. Maybe you’ve been there. Maybe you’re
there now. Maybe you haven’t got a clue of what I’m talking about. Regardless,
please stay with me.
There’s something my pastor said that really helped bring
everything into focus. He said that it’s not about passing along or learning
information about God or the Bible, but about transformation.
John Eldridge wrote that “Content about Jesus is not the same as
communion with Jesus. It’s one thing to be told God loves you, to memorize
comforting scripture verses, and to sing lyrics of redemptive promise. It’s
another thing entirely for that love to be targeted and channeled directly to
your most personal wound, coating it like a healing balm. It’s the same message
but the difference in delivery changes how we are able to receive it.”
There are times what we hear at church or read in the Bible can
seem just like information. Just words.
But we need to allow the Spirit to take those words, that information,
and transform us.
So my prayer for this morning is that the Lord would take what
I’m going to share about what it means to be a priest, and through His Spirit
transform your hearts and your minds. To reach deep down into your inner man
and speak truth and life.
In my search for understanding about this retreat the Lord has
helped me realize how what I take in from Him whether through prayer or bible
reading must become part of who I am before it can ever become meaningful for
someone else. It must be genuine. We
need to believe it and walk in it.
Now I have to say that what I’m going to share might seem a bit dense
and often heavy to consider. Please don’t get bogged down by the language or
the images. So this morning, as always, allow the Spirit to minister even just
one word to you. It’s not about quantity but quality. We’re here to open ourselves
up to whatever the Lord would like to say to us. Might not even be a word for
you but for someone you know. It’s my desire that you will hear
the information about the temple and the acts of the priests and you would be
led into a transformative understanding of how those Old Testament principles
affect your New Testament daily prayer lives.
So here we go as we look at: Prayer and the
Priesthood of all Believers
The
reality is we are a royal priesthood of the living God. In the ancient world, the way
people related to God was very physical. It was tangible. And at times it
was... messy. The Jewish priests had a very specific job
description. They worked in the Temple. They handled the sacrifices. They
maintained the fire. They were the intermediaries between a holy God and His
people.
But then Jesus comes. And He doesn't just come as a teacher or a
healer. He comes as the Great High Priest (Hebrews 4:14). “So then,
since we have a great High Priest who has entered heaven, Jesus the Son of God,
let us hold firmly to what we believe.”
He doesn't just offer the sacrifice; He is the sacrifice. He
doesn't just maintain the Temple; He is the Temple. And when He finished His
work, the veil tore.
In the Greek, the word for tore is schizō. It’s the same word used
when the heavens "burst open" at Jesus’ baptism. It isn't simply the sound of a seam slowly unraveling;
it’s the sound of a structural explosion.
Did you know that the veil was enormous, traditionally about 60
feet high and 30 feet wide, designed to completely block the view of the Holy
of Holies from the rest of the Temple.
Historical
accounts, particularly from the Jewish historian Josephus, describe the veil as
being approximately four fingers thick, which translates to 3 to 4 inches.
It was torn from the top down—a divine act of God reaching from
Heaven to Earth. The veil didn't just fall; it was sundered because God’s
desire to be near you could no longer be contained. The barrier was removed because He was
desperate to be closer to His children. Do we fully understand the implication
of this?
We’ve not just been redeemed but we now live out an intimate holy
purpose and one of those purposes is to serve our God as a priest. But how?
Peter calls us a "royal priesthood" Peter. You know Peter? The one who denied his
Lord not just once but three times. The
next time you read first and second Peter remember that the words were written
by someone who understood the highs of the faith (when his name was changed from
Simon to Peter-the rock, to the lows of denying Jesus and cowering away and
hiding from his Lord.
Remember our gracious Father never forsakes those whom he has
redeemed. So this morning if you’re feeling far from being a priest don’t
worry. He’s redeemed worse than you.
So we’re a royal priesthood and the Temple is no longer just a
building in Jerusalem. It's us. The
Spirit leaves the stone-and-gold Holy of Holies and takes up residence in the
human heart. We become "living stones." But here is the catch and
where it gets interesting: If we are the temple, the priestly duties of the Old
Testament haven't disappeared. They’ve just changed, moved from all those
physical rituals to spiritual realities. From exterior actions to interior
postures.
We don't act as priests in our own authority; we serve as
"junior priests" under the apprenticeship of Jesus, our Great High
Priest. We do what we see Him doing. And what is He doing? He is present and
interceding on our behalf.
Hebrews 7:25: “He lives forever to intercede with God on their
behalf.” And what does that mean for us as junior priests? 1 Timothy 2:1 tells us “to pray for all
people. Ask God to help them; intercede on their behalf, and give thanks for
them.”
We do what we see Him doing and He is praying.
What kinds of things did Jesus pray for?
He prayed when he was alone (Mt. 14:23); in public (John 11:41-42); before
meals (Mt. 26:26); before important decisions (Luke 6:12-13); after healing
(Luke 5:16); to do the Father’s will (Mt. 26:36-44). Jesus prayed for His
disciples for their unity and protection, that they would experience joy, that
they would be sanctified and set apart. He prayed for future believers to be
united in holiness for His glory. He prayed for Peter that his faith would not
fail.
We often think of prayer as just a conversation or a list of
requests we say to God. But the priest knew that prayer was something more: it
was entering a Presence. It was stepping into a room where the air was
different.
As Brother Lawrence famously discovered in his kitchen centuries
ago, the "practice of the presence of God" is the true heart of the
priestly vocation. It’s the realization
that the "high and holy" isn't found in a special building, but in
the rhythm of our daily lives. Whether we are peeling potatoes or standing at
the altar, we are priests on duty. We are learning to sustain a "continual
conversation" with the One who lives within us.
This morning we’re going to consider the five core functions of the
Temple priest—from offering sacrifice to discernment and dedication—and look at
how they influence our daily prayer life. Tomorrow morning we’ll close with the
last two. In all they are the seven ways we "practice the presence"
of God.
So, what does it look like to live as a priest in the Kingdom
today? It’s not about wearing robes or slaughtering goats. It’s about joining
Jesus in His eternal work. It's about moving beyond "saying prayers"
and into a life lived entirely within the Holy of Holies.
Let’s begin with how personal, how meaningful and how glorifying to
God maintaining purity and having integrity of heart can be.
1. Maintaining Purity -> Integrity of Heart
We start in the Temple where the fire was never supposed to go out.
But what is the byproduct of fire? Ashes.
If the ashes weren't dealt with, they would eventually choke the
oxygen and smother the flame. So, the first thing a priest did every single
morning—before the songs, before the incense, before the crowds—was a ritual
called the Terumat Ha Deshen. Literally? The Removal of the Ashes.
In our prayer lives, we love the "fire." We love the
passion, the inspiration, and the breakthrough. But purity—integrity of
heart—is mostly about clearing the ashes. It’s the quiet, daily removal of
yesterday’s resentments, pride, and selfishness.
This wasn't a "glamourous" job. It was dirty, hard work.
Each day, the priest had to put on special white linen garments, climb up to
the altar, and shovel the remains of yesterday’s sacrifice. He had to clear the
grate for the health of the fire.
My son told me that when they bought their home a few years back,
it came with a massive wall of 12-foot arborvitae surrounding the pool. From
the patio, it looked like a picture of health. But beneath that surface-level
beauty, the hedges were struggling. When my son pushed past the outer foliage
into the dark center of the hedge, he found an interior mess of sick, rotting
limbs. They spent several seasons trying to save them with superficial
remedies: they pruned the tops, they fed the soil, they watered. Nothing
worked. The branches in one large section just continued to wither.
No amount of surface-level nurturing could fix a foundation that
had already crumbled.
No amount of surface-level nurturing can fix a
foundation that has already crumbled. They eventually had to cut
them down and put up a fence. My son
said it was not only a lesson to learn as a homeowner but a spiritually
significant lesson to learn as a child of God.
We often spend our energy tending to the perimeter of our lives
only to realize that the truth of our condition lies hidden in the depths.
In the Tabernacle of Moses, there was a piece of furniture called
the Bronze Laver. It was a massive basin of water positioned between the Altar
of Sacrifice and the Holy Place. Before a priest could enter the Presence, he
had to wash. As the priest leaned over the Laver to wash, the mirrored surface
forced him to look at his own reflection. He couldn't wash away the
"dirt" of the world without first seeing exactly where it was
clinging to him.
For the priest, purity was the prerequisite for position. You
didn't approach the Creator of the stars with the grime of the common world on
your skin. You had to be "clean" to be "near."
Because
we’re in the service of the new High Priest Jesus, we don't wash with water; we
wash with truth. We are cleansed by His blood and by calling on the name of
Jesus; as it says in
1
Corinthians 6:11: “But you were cleansed; you were made holy; you were made
right with God by calling on the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the
Spirit of our God.”
Romans
3:25 tells us we are “made pure by belief: People are made right with
God when they believe that Jesus sacrificed his life, shedding his blood.”
Purity is no longer about ritual cleanliness; it’s something more,
something more intimate. It’s about the state of the heart.
Jesus said, "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see
God." The Greek word for "pure" here is katharos. It doesn't just mean "clean"; it means unmixed. Like 24-karat gold that has no alloy, or a
glass of water with no sediment. To be pure is to be "all one thing."
It is to have an interior world that actually matches your exterior, whatever
the world sees.
Paul gives us a profound image of this in 2 Corinthians 3:18:
"I reflect the glory of the Lord as if I'm a mirror. I am being
transformed into my Father's image..."
Or as the New Living Translation says: “So all of us who have had
that veil removed can see and reflect the glory of the Lord. And the Lord—who
is the Spirit—makes us more and more like him as we are changed into his
glorious image.”
Think about that. You are a mirror designed to reflect God into the
world. But if a mirror is covered in the ashes of unforgiveness or the grime of
hidden sin, the reflection is distorted. This is where prayer moves from
"asking for things" to "cleaning the mirror."
In the priestly life, confession is the spiritual discipline of
clearing the air so there is no "static on the line" between you and
the Father. So, as we sit in God’s Presence we ask the Spirit to "search
us." Psalm 139 We look into the "mirrored bronze" of God's
holiness and locate the "ash" and the "rot." We name the
envy. We admit the pride. We wash not to be loved, but because we are loved and
we want nothing to hinder that connection.
We approach the Throne with radical honesty, knowing that the only
way to be transformed "from one radiance of glory to another" is to
keep the mirror clean. Whenever I go into the presence of the Lord in my prayer
time, I give Him the ashes of my day, the grime that covers my often hidden
heart and ask Him to cleanse me. My
ashes, my grime. Not my husbands, not my frustrating child’s or co-workers.
Mine.
This is what glorifies God-a grateful heart that testifies to all
the Lord has personally shown us. We leap and praise God just as if we were
lepers who had been cleansed and blind but now we see. A cleansed heart can be
just as powerful of a testimony as opened eyes and straightened limbs.
As priests the next way we move from information to transformation
is as we offer ourselves as living sacrifices:
2. Offering Sacrifices -> Self-Offering in
Prayer
Paul begs us in Romans 12:1: "I urge you... in view of God’s
mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice..." This is the ultimate
priestly act: the daily, conscious choice to be a living sacrifice on the altar
of God's will. But to understand what this means for our prayer lives, we have
to look at the mechanics of something called the Olah.
In the ancient Hebrew world, the Olah—which was the "whole
burnt offering"—was unique. In other offerings, you’d have a meal with the
priest. You’d get a cut of the meat. But the Olah was "all-in." It
literally means "the ascent." The goal was to turn solid matter into
smoke; to turn a physical life into an "ascending" gift to the King.
Before the fire was lit, the offerer performed a ritual called the Semikhah (Leviticus 1:4). The law
required this person to place their hands on the head of the sacrifice. But
this Hebrew word implies more than a touch. It means to "lean with your
full weight." It was a physical transfer of identity. By leaning your
weight into the offering, you were making a silent, high-stakes declaration:
“This is me. My life, my weight, my failures, and my future—all of it is now
being carried by this offering.”
What is the sacrifice we lean into today? It is what Jesus did on
the cross. It’s not just "saying words"; it’s the active transfer of
our burdens and our identity onto the only One capable of carrying them. We
don't stand at a distance; we lean in. We transfer the weight of our
"to-do" lists, our anxieties, and our very selves onto Him. We open
ourselves up and lay all before Him.
Close your eyes and for just a moment picture John as he leaned
onto Jesus’ chest at the last supper with complete trust and abandon. Lord,
help us to lean into your peace and lean on your miraculous provision.
Then, at the end of the ritual, there is something else that could
be seen. The Olah was consumed by fire until it was nothing but ash and
smoke—except for one thing. The skin.
According to the Law (Leviticus 1:6, 7:8), the skin of the Olah was
not burned. It was flayed from the animal and given to the priest. This is a
profound echo of the very first sacrifice in the Bible.
In Genesis 3, after Adam and Eve tried to hide their shame with garments
they fashioned with fig leaves, God did something radical: He sacrificed an
animal to provide them with "garments of skin." He replaced their
"self-made" covering with His "sacrifice-made" covering.
When we
lean our full weight on the King and we offer our lives as a "living
sacrifice," we don't walk away empty-handed. We walk away covered.
The King takes our offering and, in return, gives us His own
righteousness as a garment.
So, when
you wake up and say, "Here I am. All of me. For all of You," you are
participating in an ancient, beautiful exchange. The great exchange. You are giving Him your weight, and He is
giving you His covering.
Prayer is the sacrifice of praise, confession, and, most
powerfully, self-dedication.
It is
the Olah of the heart.
So many times my morning prayers have been a quick list. I want to
get everyone in there. Now I’m not saying that there’s not a time a place for
those quick prayers, but too often that’s all I do. We need to lean in. Rest in
His presence. Take the time to yield to His provision and receive beauty for
ashes.
When we offer our personal prayers as a sacrifice, we lean in and
leave the weight of all our burdens there. And Lord knows, the burdens are
many.
The next
is one aspect of being a priest is
3. Intercession-Mediation
The priest’s whole life was lived in the middle. Between the Holy
and the human. His job was to collapse
the distance. To stand in the gap until the two worlds touched. And he didn’t
do this with just words. Actually he did it with his body. He wore the
intercession on his skin.
When the
High Priest entered the Holy Place, he wasn’t just an individual. He was a
walking, breathing map of his people.
On his shoulders sat two onyx stones. Engraved with the names of
the tribes. Six on the left. Six on the right.
In the Hebrew mind, the shoulder is the place of burden-bearing. To
intercede is to put your strength at the service of another’s weakness. It is
the priestly act of saying to the King: “They are too tired to stand. They are
too broken to reach for You. So I am lifting them up to you.”
Imagine the scene in Ex. 17:11 when Moses stood on the other side
of the Red Sea. “When Moses’ hands grew
tired, they took a stone and put it under him and he sat on it. Aaron and Hur
held his hands up—one on one side, one on the other—so that his hands remained
steady till sunset”
Paul picks up this priestly thread in the New Testament. He calls
it the "Law of Christ."
(Galatians
6:2): Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of
Christ"
We carry
that person’s burden right back to Jesus. Only He can truly lift the burden because
only He truly knows what has caused the burden in the first place.
Intercession is not a passive thought; It is the conscious choice
to let someone else’s crisis rest on your own shoulders before the throne of
God.
Now let me stop here and say that way too often we take on someone
else’s burden and never bring it to God
to leave it there. What happens if we do this? We get burned out and exhausted;
we will collapse under the weight. When we take on the burden, where should we
take it? We take the burden right to the only One who can bear the weight and
who can truly resolve the issue.
And here is the beauty: Our High Priest doesn't just watch us from
a distance. Jesus isn't a priest who is "unable to empathize with our
weaknesses," but one who has carried the full weight of the human
experience on His own shoulders (Hebrews 4:15). When we intercede, we aren't
starting a conversation. We are joining one that Jesus is already having with
the Father.
Tomorrow, try this as you pray. Don't just run through a list. Ask the Lord to lay one person or situation on
your heart. Throughout the day lift before the Lord. Consciously "take
their weight" onto your shoulders. As you do, remember Galatians 6:2. Tell
the Father, "I am bearing the weight of their situation today so they
don't have to carry it alone."
Imagine their name engraved on a unique stone over your heart. Let
their specific pain touch your own pulse. Join the Great Intercessor. Remind
yourself that Jesus is already praying for this person. Ask Him, "Lord,
what are You saying to the Father about them? Let my heart beat in rhythm with
Yours."
Then we pray for God’s will to be released. All too often we pray
for what we want to see happen.
Now wait. Stay in His presence until you feel a release, a signal
that the burden has been successfully transferred to the One who truly carries
the world. Ask: Lord, have I let this go to you? We need to learn to pause in
prayer.
Staying in God’s presence has no time limit. I’m not talking about
sitting on your bed for hours at a time. but staying in a posture of prayer
throughout the day. This brings us
understanding of what it means to pray without ceasing. And then we are also
called to meditate.
In Scripture to meditate means everything from to muse, commune, and
speak, all the way to complain, moan, growl, utter, mutter,
ponder, and to sing. It’s not sitting with your legs crossed with your eyes
closed chanting a nonsense mantra. It’s taking the time to join the holy
conversation.
When they are too exhausted to believe, you believe for them. When
they are too numb to pray, you pray for them. As a junior priests you are
bridging the distance between their need and God’s abundance. This is how we
participate in the life of the Trinity—
Meditating on His Word and interceding on the behalf of others can
be draining unless we are drawing strength from Him and allowing the Spirit to
guide us. Many times we shy away from the word meditate because the enemy has
tried to make it something self-focused instead of God-focused.
Don’t be afraid to meditate-sit in His presence, bask in the
richness of His love, lean in close. Have you ever felt God’s hand upon you and
felt strength only to discover that someone has been praying for you? I have.
What we do in the presence of God becomes meaningful for those who may not even know we were praying for them. To God be the glory as the interceding prayer goes up to the throne of God.
The next
thing we’ll look at is:
4. Blessing the People -> The Conduit of
Grace
In the rhythm of the Temple, there was a moment of peak intensity
called the Birk at Ko ha nim—the
Priestly Blessing. The priests would ascend a platform, drape their heads and hands
in the white linen of their prayer shawls (tallit), and extend their arms over
the gathered crowd. They would arrange their fingers into a very specific,
ancient shape—splitting them into two pairs, with the thumb extended. Take a
look at your handout.
Fun nerd fact: If that hand gesture looks familiar, it’s because it
was the direct inspiration for Leonard Nimoy’s "Vulcan Salute" in
Star Trek. Nimoy, who grew up in an Orthodox Jewish home, remembered seeing
this as a child. He was captivated by the power of the moment, though he was
told not to look, as the Shekinah—the literal glory of God—was said to be
flowing through the priest's hands.
But this wasn't just a religious "live long and prosper."
It was a commanded, covenantal act. The priest would recite the three-part
formula from Numbers 6:24-26: I want to stop a minute and do something that
might seem a bit weird. I’d like us to pray this blessing together out loud.
It’s on your handout.
Right now place your hand on your neighbor’s shoulder. Let’s bless
each other.
"The
Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face shine on you, and be
gracious to you. The Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace.”
To bless wasn't to offer a "good vibe"; it was to
physically and verbally "mark" the people with the identity and
presence of Yahweh. In the "natural" world—the one we navigate on
social media, in the break room, or at the Thanksgiving table— It is a toxic
slurry of gossip, criticism, cynicism, and "curse."
The default gravitational pull of our broken world is to tear down,
to "other," and to diminish. As a royal priesthood, your job is to
actively push back against that gravity. Jesus was uncompromising on this
point: "Bless and do not curse." This isn't just a nice suggestion
for moral people;
We are called to be the "gap" through which the favor of
God flows into a parched world.
Oswald
Chambers famously said: "Prayer is not the preparation for the battle; it
is the battle."
In this case, the battle is fought by transforming the world’s
curse into a Kingdom blessing. When you pray for others, you are intentionally
seeing the person not as they are (messy, broken, annoying), but as God intends
them to be. You are no longer just a bystander in your office or neighborhood;
You are "putting the Name" of God on the people around you,
blessing and not cursing them, making them recipients of not only God’s grace but our grace as we extend an open hand instead of a closed fist.
The last one we’ll consider this morning is something that can be difficult
for us as junior priests: judging and discerning. Oh to have discernment.
Sometimes it’s too easy to spout off careless words that end up wounding
instead of healing.
5. Teaching and Judging -> Discernment
In the ancient Hebrew imagination, the priest was far more than a
religious bureaucrat; they were the mediators of reality. When a priest entered
the Tabernacle to seek God, tucked inside the Breastpiece of Judgment were the
Urim (yoorim) and Thummim.(toomin)
While scholars debate their exact form—likely sacred lots or
stones—their names translate to "Lights and Perfections." In the face
of a complex "Yes" or "No" decision, the priest brought the
messy, grey areas of human life into the white-hot clarity of the Divine
Presence. He was asking: What is the
"Way" of God in this specific, jagged moment?
We’ve been conditioned to view "judgment" as a moralistic
weapon and "teaching" as a mere data dump. We turn to the internet
for information, but we are starving for wisdom. Discernment is the priestly
art of seeing things as they actually are. It is the ability to look at a change
in career, a tension in a marriage, or a medical diagnosis and see past the
surface level to the spiritual. It’s asking: What is the Father doing right
now, and how do I join Him?
To move this from a theology to something relevant we need to
practice what the ancients called "holy indifference"—not a lack of
care, but a state of being so centered in God that we are indifferent to
anything but His will. How can we do that? Try going somewhere by yourself and
sit in silence. Get quiet before the Lord. Imagine yourself putting on the
"breastplate." You are carrying your family, your city, and your own crossroads
before the Father.
Next, present your "Yes" and "No." The Urim (yoorim)and
Thummim (toomin). Instead of asking God to "bless your plan," ask for
His "Light" to expose the truth of a situation or your hidden motives
and His "Perfection" to align your desires with His.
Then we listen for the whisper: This is where we listen for the
"still, small voice" that clarifies the path. We don't just
"study" the Way; we lean in to hear the Master’s voice.
In the book The Familiar
Stranger, Tyler Staton asks: "Why doesn’t God yell? Why play it so
coy? Maybe God whispers because it’s the only way he can get what he wants
most, what was lost in Eden: to walk with you and me in familiar intimacy that
we might know God as he truly is and discover ourselves as we truly are in his
presence."
Our priestly role is to quiet the noise of the Information Age long
enough to hear that whisper. Discernment isn't a technique to get what we want;
it is the byproduct of intimacy with God. We lead others through the thicket of
a confused world not because we have all the answers, but because we serve the
King who is the Truth.
Let’s
pray.
Lord,
there is nothing You have designed that does not have value and meaning. It
doesn’t matter if it was thousands of years ago.
That
just makes it more amazing that Your love travels through the ages and still
finds us, changes and transforms us.
Lord,
you are our great high priest and just as we put on the full armor we now stand
fully in our roles as junior high priests as we take the time to remove the
ashes that covers our hearts,
as we
build bridges to those who are lost, and as we discern your will I pray we will
always chose You. Amen.
Sunday
Morning
I hope you’re not getting too overwhelmed. Don’t allow the enemy’s
voice to tell you that understanding yourself as a priest is just too much, too
heavy. But I have to be honest, though, when I first went through this
teaching, I found myself saying these words: “Lord, it’s hard enough to just
get up in the morning without having to think about being a priest and what
that ultimately means”
The
truth is to be able to fulfill your role as a priest what do you have to do? Oh I don’t know. How about spending time in
God’s presence? Leaning in to hear what the Spirit has to say? Getting your
strength from Him so that you learn to stand firm? Worshiping at His Throne?
These
are things we already do. That’s the reality. Practicing the presence of God is
not a chore. It is a privilege. So the next aspect of being a priest has to do
with being consecrated and dedicated.
6. Consecration -> Dedication of Life
To be a priest was to be set apart. This wasn’t a vague religious
feeling. It was a physical reality marked by anointing oil. In the Torah, God
gives a specific, high-end "recipe" for this oil. It wasn't just
olive oil from the kitchen. It was a potent blend of liquid myrrh, sweet
cinnamon, fragrant cane, and cassia.
Why these ingredients? Remember everything God does is intentional.
In the ancient world, these weren't just scents; they were a sophisticated
technology of preservation and integration.
Myrrh was the antiseptic. It was used to stop decay and
"seal" the priest against the rot of the world.
Cinnamon was the stimulant. It brought "heat" and energy,
a physical wake-up call to the skin.
Fragrant cane was the carrier. On its own, myrrh is bitter and
cinnamon is harsh. The cane was an aromatic binder that allowed the other oils
to blend into a single, harmonious fragrance.
Cassia was the shield. A powerful anti mi crobial that protected
the priest from infection as he handled the brokenness of the people.
To be anointed was to be
prepared for the King’s business.
The oil was thick. When it was poured over a priest’s head, it
didn't just sit there. It would run down his beard and onto the collar of his
garments.The fragrance was so strong that people could smell the priest before
they saw him. Everything he touched thereafter was "consecrated." He
didn't just do holy things; he made things holy by his presence.
But where do we get this oil today? It starts with Jesus. The very
title "Christ" isn't a last name. It’s a job description.
Christos literally means The Anointed One. Jesus is the High Priest
who was drenched in the oil of the Spirit. When He walked into a room, the
"common" vanished. He touched lepers, and they became clean. He sat
at "ordinary" dinner tables, and they became sacred altars. He is the
source of the oil.
Remember when Scripture says in Isaiah 61 and also in Luke 4:18: “The
Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me (to do what?) to preach the gospel to the poor;
he has
sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and
recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised…”
He has been anointed…And because we are "in Christ," that
same anointing now flows from the Head, from Him down to the body, to us. You
carry the fragrance—the preservation, the warmth, and the anti mi crobial
"seal"—of the Great High Priest into your every day.
How do we set ourselves apart today? Being set apart literally
means to be distinct, marked out, to be separated, and to be distinguished. It
also means to be wonderful.
We are not set apart by odd behavior, by basically being weird that
draws attention to ourselves. What should distinguish us is that we reflect the
Father by the way we speak with those who are cast aside, by the way we set
ourselves apart by removing ourselves to spend precious time alone with our
Father.
The anointing of the Holy Spirit enables us to proclaim the Gospel
effectively and minister beyond our natural ability
The anointing opens the door to operate in the gifts of the Spirit,
including healing, deliverance, and prophecy. It helps us discern truth, resist
false teachings, and grow in spiritual maturity
And it equips us to live holy lives and fulfill God’s purpose for
us. The anointing is not a one-time event but a continuous flow from God.
We are called to cultivate and walk in it daily by deepening our relationship with the Holy Spirit, and yielding to His guidance. As you pray, allow His anointing to flow through you as you dedicate yourself to Him.
And now
the last way we live out our roles as junior priests is
7. Tending the Sacred Space -> which is Spiritual
Discipline
In the center of the Temple court stood the bronze altar. And God
gave the priests a terrifyingly simple command regarding it in Leviticus 6:12: "The
fire on the altar shall be kept burning on it; it shall not go out"
But here is the detail we often miss: The priests didn't start that
fire. Leviticus 9:24 tells us that "fire came out from before the Lord and
consumed the burnt offering." The origin of the fire was supernatural; it
was a gift of divine presence. But the maintenance of the fire was human labor.
Paul picks up this exact imagery in 1 Thessalonians 5:19 with a
command that is hauntingly fragile: "Do not quench the Spirit." The
Greek word for "quench" is sbennumithe
same word used for extinguishing a camp fire.
Paul is saying that the Holy Spirit is a fire inside the temple of
your body. God lit it. You didn't earn it. You didn't start it. But you can let
it go out through neglect.
In the New Testament we are repeatedly told not to neglect: 1Tim.
4:14: “Do not neglect the spiritual gift within you.”
Heb. 13:16: “Do not neglect to do good, to contribute to the needy
of the church as an expression of fellowship.”
And the most important: Heb. 2:3: “How shall we escape, if we
neglect so great a salvation.”
We live in a world that acts like a fire extinguisher. The "rain"
of digital distraction, the "wind" of hurry, and the "ash"
of accumulated worry are constantly threatening to smother the flame of God’s
presence in our lives.
This is where the Spiritual Disciplines come in. Many people view
Silence, Scripture reading, and Sabbath as "works"—things we do to
get God to like us. That is a lie.
In the priestly life, the disciplines are simply hauling the wood. We
practice Silence to shovel out the ash of the world's noise. We practice
Scripture to throw fresh logs of truth onto the embers of our heart. We
practice Sabbath to protect the flame from the storms of exhaustion.
These practices aren't ways to earn the fire; they are how we keep
the fire burning. We tend the "altar of the heart" with vigilance,
knowing that a fire left unattended doesn't live, it dies.
Our priestly purpose is to ensure that when the Father looks at the
altar of our lives, He finds a flame, bright and roaring, amidst a dark and
cold world.
The priesthood is not a religious duty for the
few. It is your identity. To live as a priest is to recognize that your life is
the primary ground where God’s presence is practiced. It means the mundane is
now a ministry. The mundane a ministry? Going to work, tending to your house.
Whatever you do on a daily basis can be
transformed into a ministry the same way the words we say and read can be
changed from information to transformation.
You do not need to persuade God to show up. You
do not need to pull Him down from heaven. You simply need to quiet your mind long
enough to realize he never left.
The priestly vocation is the daily training of
your gaze. Your integrity of heart is the daily removal of the ash. Your self-offering is the heavy
lean of your soul onto the character of the King. Your intercession is the
bridge you build between the chaos of this world and the Order of our Great
High King.
In the ancient ordination rite described in
Exodus 29, the priests were marked in a way that is both messy and beautiful.
The blood of the sacrifice was placed on three points: the lobe of the right
ear, the thumb of the right hand, and the big toe of the right foot.
The ear, that we might hear the word of the
Father above the roar of the world. The thumb that our work might become a touch of His
grace. The toe, that wherever we walk might bring the kingdom.
Ever think that being a priest is just too lofty ? That you
just can’t take on one more thing? Well, I have news for you, you have already
been a priest whenever you’ve come before the Lord and spent time shoveling the
ashes away from His fire thereby allowing Him to give you beauty for those
ashes.
You’ve been a priest when you leaned into the
deep Love of His sacrifice and you have left your burdens there.
You have been a priest whenever you joined in
the prayerful conversation that your Lord is having for those who are hurting.
You have performed your priestly duties
whenever you’ve blessed and not cursed,
when you’ve sought His will above your own, when you’ve
basked in the anointing of His Holy Spirit.
You’ve been a priest who has been marked by the
blood.
The world is your altar. Go, then, and keep the fire burning.
Let’s pray.
Lord God
sometimes we can get so bogged down with learning about the duties the priests
had before you came and set us free.
Lord, we come to
you right now and ask for you to burn bright within us as we come close to you.
Lord you have made all you do personal when you willingly suffered and died.
You rose for us
and you stand before the throne interceding on our behalf. Lord only you
deserve glory and honor.
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