The Anchor of Our Faith: Understanding Our Royal Priesthood

 

In a world of instant gratification and shortened attention spans, we find ourselves drifting like boats without anchors. The current of culture pulls us along effortlessly, and sometimes we forget that we were called to something more—something that requires intentionality, maturity, and an unshakeable foundation.

The Priesthood That Changed Everything

The Old Testament priesthood was an elaborate system. Priests from the tribe of Levi served as intermediaries between God and humanity, offering sacrifices for sins—both for the people and for themselves. The high priest alone could enter the Holy of Holies once a year, a place so saturated with God's presence that legend tells of ropes tied to his ankles and bells sewn to his garments. If he entered unworthily and God struck him dead, no one else could retrieve him without facing the same fate.

This system highlighted a profound truth: humanity needed a mediator. Sin created a chasm between us and a holy God that could only be bridged through sacrifice and priestly intercession.

But then everything changed.

Jesus Christ didn't come from the tribe of Levi. He wasn't appointed through hereditary succession or religious ceremony. Instead, He was appointed by God Himself as a high priest "after the order of Melchizedek"—a mysterious figure who predated the Levitical priesthood and served as both king and priest, foreshadowing the One who would fulfill both roles perfectly.

Unlike the Levitical priests who offered countless sacrifices for sins that would need to be repeated year after year, Jesus offered Himself—once and for all. He didn't need to atone for His own sins because He had none. As the spotless Lamb of God, His sacrifice was sufficient for all humanity for all time.

Learning Obedience Through Suffering

Here's something we often overlook: Jesus learned obedience through what He suffered. He wasn't exempt from pain, temptation, betrayal, or the daily grind of human existence. In the Garden of Gethsemane, He prayed with loud cries and tears, asking if the cup of suffering could pass from Him. Yet in the same breath, He surrendered to the Father's will.

This is where we find both comfort and challenge. If Jesus had to learn obedience through suffering, why would we expect our path to be any different? The trials we face aren't punishments—they're classrooms. They're opportunities to exercise our spiritual muscles and develop the kind of mature faith that can withstand any storm.

The Problem with Spiritual Immaturity

The book of Hebrews addresses a frustrating reality: believers who should have grown into teachers still needed to be taught the basics. They had become "dull of hearing"—not because the message was unclear, but because they chose not to apply what they already knew.

Sound familiar?

How many times have we heard profound truths, nodded in agreement, perhaps even felt moved in the moment, only to leave unchanged? We accumulate knowledge like spiritual hoarders, filling our minds with sermons, podcasts, and Bible studies while our lives remain stagnant.

The writer of Hebrews distinguishes between milk and solid food. Milk is for infants—those new to the faith who need foundational truths. Solid food is for the mature—those who have trained their powers of discernment through constant practice.

Notice that word: practice. Maturity doesn't come from consuming more content. It comes from applying what we already know. It comes from taking the Word of God and living it out in real circumstances with real people facing real challenges.

The Danger of Drifting

Perhaps the most sobering passage warns that it's impossible to restore those who have experienced God's goodness, tasted the heavenly gift, shared in the Holy Spirit, and then deliberately turned away. This isn't about losing salvation through a moment of weakness or even a season of struggle. It's about those who, having fully experienced God's grace, choose to walk away and hold Christ's sacrifice in contempt.

The good news? For those who are merely drifting—who've gone a few degrees off course—there's still time for correction. God doesn't overlook the love and service you've shown. He's not waiting to condemn you for imperfection. He's inviting you back to your first love, calling you to remember what captivated your heart when you first encountered Him.

An Unchangeable Promise

When God made His promise to Abraham, He swore by Himself—because there was nothing greater by which to swear. This oath stands as our anchor, an unchangeable guarantee that cannot fail because God cannot lie.

Think about Abraham for a moment. He received a promise that took decades to fulfill. He didn't see the complete picture in his lifetime. Yet he held fast to what God had spoken, and through patient endurance, he obtained the promise.

We live in a TikTok society where thirty seconds feels like an eternity. We pray for things and expect immediate results. When they don't come, we assume God isn't listening or doesn't care. But God's timeline isn't measured in microwave minutes or social media clips. His promises are sure, but they often require patient endurance.

Jesus has gone before us as our forerunner, entering behind the curtain as our high priest forever. This is the anchor of our souls—not wishful thinking or positive vibes, but the concrete reality of Christ's finished work and ongoing intercession.

The Choice Before Us

No one can snatch you out of God's hand. The enemy doesn't have that power. Other people can't pull you away. But you can choose to walk away. You can decide that the lazy river of cultural conformity is easier than swimming against the current of intentional discipleship.

While it's still today, the invitation stands: make the course correction. Get off the inner tube of passive spirituality. Stop being a consumer of religious content and become a practitioner of kingdom living.

Study the Scriptures not just to accumulate information but to gain ammunition for spiritual warfare. Exercise discernment by testing everything against God's Word. Apply what you know before demanding to learn more. Serve others not out of obligation but as an overflow of gratitude for all God has done for you.

You are part of a royal priesthood—not because of your lineage or religious credentials, but because of Christ's sacrifice. You have direct access to the Father. You can approach His throne with boldness. And with that incredible privilege comes a beautiful responsibility: to live as one who has been anchored by an unchangeable promise.

The current is strong, but your anchor is stronger.