The Church as Priestly Ambassadors
Pastoral reflections on 1 Peter 1:13–2:12
“What do you do for a living?” As a pastor and former Bible college lecturer, it’s a question that I somewhat dread. Not because I’m ashamed of what I do, but more because of the most common responses: usually awkward silence followed by a quick change in conversation topic, or ‘You mean, like, a priest?’
When people ask if I’m a priest, I want to reply, ‘Well, sort of, but probably not in the way you think’. And that might lead to a conversation about what I do, or what I believe, and various questions about Christian morality or ethics. But what isn’t often discussed—and perhaps it should be—is who I am; or perhaps better stated, who I belong to. Or better again, who we as Christians belong to. And I bring up that idea of who I am, or who we are—and who we belong to—because that is, in large part, what 1 Peter 1:13–2:12 is about. It’s about what it means to be ‘a people belonging to God’ (2:10).
Priestly Ambassadors (1 Peter 2:9–10)
Taking 1 Peter 2:9–10 as a starting point, Peter describes the Anatolian believers in terms of their status (chosen family); function (a royal priesthood); character (holy nation). Peter summarises their position as God’s special or treasured possession, who are to declare the praises of God who has called them out of darkness into his marvellous light. In short, through God’s mercy, they were the eschatological people of God, called to declare his saving works. In many respects this is precisely Israel’s calling according to the Exodus narrative:
4 ‘You yourselves have seen what I did to Egypt, and how I carried you on eagles’ wings and brought you to myself. 5 Now if you obey me fully and keep my covenant, then out of all nations you will be my treasured possession. Although the whole earth is mine, 6 you will be for me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.’ (Exod 19:4–6)
Israel were God’s chosen people, set apart to be his holy, priestly nation. They no longer belonged to Pharaoh, but to Yahweh who had saved them. They had been called out of the darkness of slavery in Egypt to live in God’s light and declare his salvific acts.
So, what in practice did it mean to be a kingdom of priests? What exactly did God have in mind when he summoned the Israelites? Here there is a ‘vertical’ and ‘horizontal’ aspect to the ministry. Vertically, at the most fundamental level it meant that Aaron and his fellow priests represented Yahweh to Israel, and Israel to Yahweh. Israel’s relationship with Yahweh was dependent upon the priesthood who were set apart (holy) and given privileged access to Yahweh for the purpose of interceding between the Lord and his people.
Horizontally, as the priests represented Yahweh to the Israelites, so also the Israelites were to represent Yahweh to the nations, and the nations before Yahweh. It was Israel’s priestly presence and function that made possible a relationship between Yahweh and the nations. Now, this priestly function had been prefigured in individuals before Israel’s commissioning in Exodus 19. For example:
The language of Adam cultivating the garden (Gen 2:15) is language mirrored in that of the priests working the tabernacle/temple (e.g., Num 3:7–8; 8:25–26; Ezek 44:14).
Abraham intercedes for Sodom and Gomorrah! (Gen 18).
Joseph represents Yahweh to Pharaoh by interpreting his dreams, ultimately saving the nation and his family (Gen 39ff).
Moses brings Yahweh’s revelation to a later Pharaoh, representing the Lord to him.
All of these are priestly functions. Even in exile the people of God were also summoned to priestly service in Babylon (Jer 29:4–7). They were to cry out to the Lord on behalf of the city to see it thrive and be prosperous.
The idea was that when the nations looked at Israel, they would see what life was like under the benevolent rule of Yahweh and gain a glimpse of his good and holy character. The One True God, who:
delights in rescuing people from oppression.
delights in righteousness and justice.
is gracious, slow to anger and abounding in love.
brings down the proud and lifts up the humble.
longs to bring blessing and shalom to the nations.
And when Peter draws on verses from Exodus so clearly, it seems to me that he has this mission in mind. As those called out of darkness into God’s light, this young church in ancient Turkey has been called upon to be a royal priesthood. That is, a people that represent Yahweh, as revealed in Jesus Christ, to their families, their neighbours, their friends, their co-workers, and associates. That when people see the church corporately or her members individually, they gain a glimpse of Jesus Christ and his kingdom, full of grace and truth—full of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Gal 5:22–23).
In other words, one might say that being a priest and a member of a priesthood is a lot like being an ambassador and part of an embassy. The role and function of an embassy their ambassadors is to represent its nation on foreign soil. Ambassadors of the embassy respect the laws of the host nation and seek to build workable relationships within them, but their ultimately loyalty is to their homeland. And that is very much what being a Christian is like.
Christians are God’s priesthood, his ambassadors for Jesus, and members of his kingdom. Their mission and purpose is to represent Jesus and his kingdom among the communities in which God has placed them. So, when someone encounters a Christian believer or enters a church, the ideal is that they taste of the goodness of Jesus and his kingdom. That’s the end game.
Why Holiness Matters
Now, in order for the church to be effective in their priestly-ambassadorial calling, holiness matters. A story here might help explain why.
In August, 1985, KGB member Colonel Vitaly Yurchenko walked into the US Embassy in Rome saying he was quitting the Soviets and wanted to live free of the communist regime in the USA. He was flown to the USA, where he was interrogated to make sure his defection was legitimate. He divulged Soviet secrets, some of which the US Gov’t already knew, others which they did not. For all intents and purposes, he looked like a convert to the American Anti-Communist cause. Asked why he defected, he described a way of life that left him dead on the inside: (1) communism was not all it was cranked up to be; (2) the KGB were corrupt; (3) more personally, he’d fallen out of love with is wife; (4) he was raising a troubled teenager; (5) his mother had died of cancer.
By walking into that embassy in Rome he was setting himself apart from his former masters (the KGB) and devoting himself to the US authorities and the democratic way of life. A life of freedom beckoned. And then—about 3 months later—he defected back to the Soviets. Why, we don’t know. Perhaps he feared the Soviet backlash; perhaps he longed for family again; perhaps he feared the repercussions concerning his family because of his initial defection.
I tell you Yurchenko’s story because his life was the opposite of what holy means, specifically in the sense of his divided loyalties. He tried to claim one way of life while in his heart, apparently, he wanted something else. He is like the man described in the letter of James: double-minded and unstable in all his ways. Peter’s concern is that his readers, like Col. Yurchenko—indeed, like the Hebrews of the Exodus who pined for Egypt after being liberated—are at risk of desiring a return to the old way of life.
A second angle here might also be helpful: if you’ve ever visited a nation like India or Cambodia, one of the things you often see in people’s houses and businesses are shrines to various Buddhist/Hindu deities (idols). So too, at the time of 1 Peter’s writing, if you were to wander ancient Turkey, you’d find shrines to local tribal deities and, certainly in larger towns, opportunities for emperor worship. If you become a Christian in that kind of context, one of the things your family, friends, neighbours, colleagues will immediately notice is that you no longer have a shrine to the local deity in your home, or that you failed to attend a worship event or festival for the gods. People start asking questions.
You look the same, eat the same food, speak the same language, and dress the same, but you’re different, and you will eventually have to give an account because your allegiance has changed. By joining the church—God’s people—you have, in essence, walked into an embassy that represents God’s kingdom and you’ve effectively announced your change of allegiance. You have set yourself apart for Jesus and his purposes over and above those of the emperor or local deities.
The difference is that instead of being whisked off to another country like Yurchenko, one joins God’s embassy and gets sent back out among the people from whom they are seen to have defected. You become an ambassador, a priest, representing the kingdom of God among your people. And that’s what holiness means. It’s that notion of being set apart for a singular purpose. Look at 1 Peter 1:14–16:
14 As obedient children, do not conform to the evil desires you had when you lived in ignorance. 15 But just as he who called you is holy, so be holy in all you do; 16 for it is written: “Be holy, because I am holy.”
Notice the temptation to return to the former way of life.
Having been called by God, they were not to return to the evil desires they had when they lived in ignorance of Jesus and the gospel. They have a new Father whom they call upon who is also their judge (v. 17) and the one through whom they were liberated by the willing death of his Son, Jesus, a lamb without blemish (v. 18).
17 Since you call on a Father who judges each person’s work impartially, live out your time as foreigners here in reverent fear. 18 For you know that it was not with perishable things such as silver or gold that you were redeemed from the empty way of life handed down to you from your forefathers, 19 but with the precious blood of Christ, a lamb without blemish or defect.
Peter provides here, an allusion to the exodus narrative. This time, the Passover, and notice also the competing paternties: their Heavenly Father in contrast to their forefathers. Here’s the thing: priests can’t have divided loyalties. They can’t claim to represent Yahweh/Jesus to the nations and then live for their own interests, the interests of the world, or the interests of their former way of life.
In a world that had a pantheon of gods, Jesus demanded total and exclusive allegiance, and complete devotion to his purposes. These early believers in ancient Turkey had been called out from one way of life to another, and the temptation to return to their former way of life would have been immense as they were reviled and ostracised because of their conversion to Christ. Moreover, every time they walked out of the door they would have walked by the very idols they had left behind. They would have lost friends, family, work colleagues, and other associates by converting to the Christian faith. They would have been written out of their family histories. They would have been DE-STORIED, so to speak.
A Re-Storied People
And this brings me to my final point: why does Peter use so many Old Testament references among these verses? What is Peter doing, and why is it important that these predominantly gentile believers need to know about the Exodus, the Exile, and other aspects of Israel’s history?
Having been de-storied, Peter seeks to re-story these people.
In 1:13–21, Peter essentially re-capitulates the Exodus narrative as if to say, Israel’s story is your story. Following in Israel’s footsteps you are God’s people of the Exodus:
V. 13, they are to ‘gird the loins of their mind’ (cf. Exodus 12:11).
V. 14, they are not to return to their former way of life/slavery (cf. Lev 18:2–4).
Vv. 15–16, they must be holy like the holy God who called them (cf. Lev 19:2).
Vv. 18–19, they are to remember the blood ransom that brought about their salvation (Num 9:1–5).
Later, Peter quotes from Isaiah 40 (1:24–25). These words were written for Judah in Babylonian exile and served as a reminder that though Israel was under foreign rule, the Lord’s word would prevail. They would be restored to the Promised Land because people—even kings of empires—are like grass that withers. But the word of the Lord endures forever. The Anatolian believers share in this word to Israel as they face a form of exile in their own lives having come to Christ and found themselves alienated within their homelands.
In 1 Peter 2:6–8, Peter presents a selection of verses from Isa 28; Ps 118; and Isa 8 that each draw upon a similar narrative framework: that there is honour for those who accept the Lord’s means of salvation (the cornerstone) and judgment for those who reject it. Jesus is presented to these ancient believers as the cornerstone that people encounter and that those who come to him in faith find honour, while those who reject him find shame. Such narratives stand as a warning not to reject Jesus, God’s means of salvation.
And that brings us back to the Exodus citations in 1 Peter 2:9–10. These young believers are a chosen kindred, a royal priesthood, and holy nation, a people belonging to God. Having been de-storied by their families because they came to faith in Christ, Peter re-stories these newly minted Christians and shows them how the story and history of Israel is their story. That they too share in the history of God’s people through faith in Christ.
For the Christian believer the OT is a record of their family history! Christians have a new story. One in which God, through Israel and Christ, is going to redeem the whole creation. Christians get to share in that mission because Christ makes us his priestly ambassadors who bring blessing to our families, friends, neighbours, colleagues, and wider communities. That Christians might look out to the world and say:
‘“The Lord bless you and keep you;
25 the Lord make his face shine on you
and be gracious to you;
26 the Lord turn his face toward you
and give you peace.”’ (Num 6:24–26).
Conclusion
When Christian believers embrace their identity as priestly ambassadors, they become foreigners and exiles in the world. To come to Jesus, the Living Stone who is chosen and precious to God yet rejected by the world, is to find oneself also chosen and precious to God yet rejected by the world.
To be Christ’s royal priesthood is to be an elect-reject. And our lives should convey the character of God through both our words and ‘good deeds’. An example of what this looks like on the ground is described in an excerpt from an early Christian letter known as the Epistle to Diognetus:
5. For the Christians are distinguished from other men neither by country, nor language, nor the customs which they observe. For they neither inhabit cities of their own, nor employ a peculiar form of speech, nor lead a life which is marked out by any singularity. The course of conduct which they follow has not been devised by any speculation or deliberation of inquisitive men; nor do they, like some, proclaim themselves the advocates of any merely human doctrines.
But, inhabiting Greek as well as barbarian cities, according as the lot of each of them has determined, and following the customs of the natives in respect to clothing, food, and the rest of their ordinary conduct, they display to us their wonderful and confessedly striking method of life.
They dwell in their own countries, but simply as sojourners. As citizens, they share in all things with others, and yet endure all things as if foreigners. Every foreign land is to them as their native country, and every land of their birth as a land of strangers.
They marry, as do all [others]; they beget children; but they do not destroy their offspring. They have a common table, but not a common bed. They are in the flesh, but they do not live after the flesh. They pass their days on earth, but they are citizens of heaven.
They obey the prescribed laws, and at the same time surpass the laws by their lives. They love all men, and are persecuted by all. They are unknown and condemned; they are put to death, and restored to life. They are poor, yet make many rich; they are in lack of all things, and yet abound in all; they are dishonoured, and yet in their very dishonour are glorified.
They are evil spoken of, and yet are justified; they are reviled, and bless; they are insulted, and repay the insult with honour; they do good, yet are punished as evil-doers. When punished, they rejoice as if quickened into life; they are assailed by the Jews as foreigners, and are persecuted by the Greeks; yet those who hate them are unable to assign any reason for their hatred.
This is what the life of one called of God to be a priestly ambassador and resident-alien in this world. It means we look a little different. Perhaps even a little weird. And that’s okay. That’s what it means to be holy. Embrace the weird.