Popcorn And Priests

I used to love going to movies.  The older and crabbier I get, the more jaded I’ve become about Hollywood’s ability to fascinate me. But every once and a while something comes along that seems like it might be worth seeing, so I do what so many of us do – head into the darkened theater, look around for the best possible seat (legroom is a must, and no chatty neighbors lest things get ugly) park my beverage in the cup-holder and settle in.  Dim the lights, start the show – and please pass the popcorn. I’m ready to set everything else aside for a couple of hours and to be entertained.  Bring it, Spielberg.

The problem is – I recognize the times when I have approached a church service in a similar way.  And it is a problem, because when I allow myself to slip into that mindset (it’s so easy, isn’t it?) I am at odds with what Scripture says my role should be.  In particular, there is an interesting word to describe my role that appears a couple of times in 1 Peter.

Priest.  For evangelical Protestants, this is a term with little weight for us because it applies to two things most of us don’t have a strong personal connection to: the Old Testament sacrificial system and higher-church clergy. But there it is, in the New Testament of all places, and it’s pointing at me.  Priest, it calls me.  Huh. I’d better find some understanding of what this means.

In a broad sense, it can mean what Luther took it to mean – that there is no spiritual hierarchy. If I have embraced the Good News I am just as qualified as anyone else, ordained or not, to proclaim it. In fact I have just as much responsibility to do so. No one can lord any authority over me as a minister of God because I am (in theory at least) every inch the minister they are. It is part of my birthright as a believer, and is a role I am called to fulfill.

But there are other meanings as well.  This brings me back to my local church and how I can apply them in a practical way.

First, priests offer worship.  They don’t watch others do it. They don’t grade others’ behavior in worship. They are there to actively offer worship and engage heart, mind and body in ascribing glory to God.  It is easy for me to forget that when I am preoccupied with wondering who that is sitting in the seventh row, or how ugly the pastor’s tie is (for the record, my pastor does not wear ties), or even my own shortcomings and unworthiness. I am there to offer the sacrifice of worship. It’s what priests do. Other things are meant to be put aside.

Second, priests stand in the gap for others. They minister and intercede. They serve the people of God.  If Scripture labels me as a priest then it seems like I ought to be involved in God’s work in some tangible way that demands my time and energies.

While every church is a little different, it’s fair to say that in most, the 80/20 rule still applies: 80% of the work is being done by 20% of the available people (some now refer to this as the 90/10 rule - even worse).  Where are the rest of our priests?  Robes are not required, so I'm thinking it's not a fashion issue.  What are the rest of our priests doing if they are not actively ministering somehow? Is there a priestly on-deck circle? A cocktail lounge serving sacramental wine?

If I claim to take the Bible seriously then I have to wear one of the names that it gives me – priest. The word may not be part of my tradition, but the concepts of worship and service are – very much so.  I am writing this as a gut-check for my own attitude that so easily slides into passivity and the desire to be ministered-to, even entertained. I have to fight that, and to look for ways to wear that name and act out what it means.  That’s my hope for all of us.

No ring-kissing though, OK?  Please. It’s embarrassing.