The People of the Prophet, Priest, and King
Because Jesus is the better Prophet, Priest, and King, everyone joined to Him becomes a prophetic, priestly, and kingly people — so we no longer live for ourselves, but for Him.
At the end of a good trip, there is always the temptation to treat it like a photograph. We frame the memory, set it on a shelf, sigh over it now and then, and go back to ordinary life mostly unchanged. A week of teaching about Jesus can end the same way — a lovely picture we admire from a safe distance.
But the point of this series was never a photograph. It was a mirror. For nine sermons we asked one question: who is Jesus? He is the better Prophet — better than Moses, Elijah, and Jonah. He is the better Priest — better than Aaron, the better Lamb, the better Temple. He is the better King — the better Adam, the better David, whose throne will never end. And now the whole series turns around and lands on us with one last question. So what? If Jesus really is all of that, what does it make the people who belong to Him?
Peter answers in one breath: "You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his possession" (1 Peter 2:9). Do you hear the three offices in there? Prophet, priest, king. What is true of Jesus becomes true of everyone joined to Him. "Christ" means "Anointed One" — and in Him, we are anointed too.
We Are a Prophetic People
A prophet is someone who speaks for God. Once that was a rare calling — only a handful of people in all of Israel. Moses even wished aloud that all the Lord's people could be prophets, and Joel promised a day when God would pour out His Spirit on sons and daughters, old and young alike. At Pentecost, Peter stood up and said, in effect, "This is that day."
So if we belong to Jesus, the Spirit lives in us, and we are part of that prophetic people. This does not mean new revelations or voices in the night — we have God's finished Word and need no other. It means we now know the truth, and we are sent to speak it. Imagine a man who spent thirty years in a coal mine, brought up into the sunlight for the first time in decades. No one would have to teach him to talk about light; he could not stop. That is a prophetic people — a people who cannot stop talking about the light they have seen. Not always with a sermon; usually with a gracious word to a neighbor, a coworker, a child. We do not have to be loud. We simply cannot be silent.
We Are a Priestly People
A priest is someone who brings people to God. Under the old covenant, an ordinary Israelite could not simply walk into God's presence. There was a curtain, and only the high priest could pass it, only once a year, and never without blood. But when Jesus died, that curtain tore from top to bottom. Now Peter calls ordinary believers "a royal priesthood," and Hebrews says we may enter the sanctuary "by the blood of Jesus" and "draw near."
Think of a child who knows he can walk into his father's room in the middle of the night — no appointment, no rehearsed speech, no wondering if he is allowed. He just climbs up, because he belongs there. That is what the blood of Jesus purchased for us: not nervous, once-a-year religion, but the open door of a child who belongs. And a priest never comes empty-handed. We no longer bring a lamb — the Lamb has been given once for all — but we do bring sacrifices: the praise of our lips, our own selves offered as living offerings, the quiet good we do, the gifts we give. A mother praying over a sick child, a man helping a struggling neighbor — that is priestly work. Through Jesus, we ourselves are the temple, and we carry that open door with us wherever we go.
We Are a Kingly People
Our text does not just say priests; it says a royal priesthood. Revelation says Jesus, by His blood, "made us a kingdom." So we are a kingly people. But we have to be careful here, just as we were with David. This does not mean we are enthroned in glory now, with our troubles behind us. Paul once scolded Christians who talked that way. We do not yet reign in glory — so what does kingly life look like now?
There are three things. First, we reign over sin instead of being ruled by it; where sin once ran the show, grace now reigns, and the old habits that owned us slowly lose their grip. Second, we live with courage. "The righteous are as bold as a lion," says the Proverb — not like a servant who snuck into the palace and might be thrown out any minute, but like a child who knows the house belongs to his Father. Third, and hardest, we reign the way our King did: through weakness and suffering. "We are more than conquerors," Paul says, in the middle of a list of troubles. We win by holding on. When we keep trusting Christ through a hard marriage, a long illness, a grief that will not lift — that is not losing. That is a king reigning in the midst of his enemies.
So Now What?
Here is where nine sermons about who Jesus is come to rest on who we are. Because He is the better Prophet, we know the truth and cannot stop speaking it. Because He is the better Priest, we have an open door to God and gifts to lay on His altar. Because He is the better King, we reign over sin, stand in courage, and hold on through suffering all the way to glory.
And let's not miss what all three have in common: every one was purchased. We are prophets because He is the Prophet, priests because He is the Priest, royalty because He is the King. We did not climb up to any of it — He came down to us and lifted us into His own life. And that changes what our lives are for. "The love of Christ compels us," Paul writes, so that "those who live should no longer live for themselves, but for the one who died for them and was raised." That is the whole "so what" in one sentence. We are not our own; we were bought at a price. The narrow little circle of a life lived only for ourselves has been broken open.
So let's not leave this on the shelf like a photograph. Let's carry it home like a calling. The life of heaven begins on earth: we are prophets now, priests now, kings now. What the saints in glory do perfectly, we begin to do today.
Reflection Questions
1. Where has it been easiest to treat this week like a photograph to admire, rather than a mirror that changes how we live?
2. Of the three offices — prophet who speaks, priest who draws near, king who reigns over sin — which one is Christ pressing on our hearts most right now?
3. If we are no longer our own but bought at a price, what is one ordinary place — a kitchen, a job site, a friendship — where that ought to show this week?


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