Called to be a royal priesthood

Praise the Lord!

This morning, as we gather for Communion Sunday, I feel a strong burden to speak to us about identity and purpose. Before we approach the Lord’s table, I want us to look closely at what the Word of God says about who we are as believers — and what that means for how we live.

We begin with praise. I encourage everyone to lift up their voices in joyful worship. Too often we hold back — discouraged by our circumstances or weighed down by burdens. But Scripture commands us to shout to the Lord, to make a joyful noise in His presence. Praise isn’t just a feeling — it’s an act of faith. When we stand, kneel, raise our hands, or lift our voices, something shifts in the spiritual atmosphere. Our shout can break heaviness. Our worship, even in pain, can become our victory cry.

From there, the Lord draws me to remind the church of our true identity: we are a royal priesthood. First Peter 2:9 declares it — we are chosen, we are holy, we are royal, and we are priests. This is not just for pastors, elders, or church leaders. This is for every believer washed in the blood of Jesus. Each one of us is a priest unto the Lord, called to serve Him and represent Him in this world.

This priestly calling is not new. In Exodus 19:6, God tells Israel that they are to be a kingdom of priests and a holy nation. That same calling is extended to the Church today — the spiritual Israel. We are called out of darkness into His marvelous light, not just to enjoy the light, but to declare His praises and carry out His purposes.

So what does it mean to be part of this royal priesthood? We have a responsibility to minister to God, our priestly duties to Him. In addition, as God’s priests on earth, we have a priestly responsibility for other people as well. Today, I want to talk about those responsibilities. The Lord puts three key responsibilities on my heart — three ways that we live out our priestly role:

1. We Pray.

Prayer is our first and most essential duty. Jesus teaches us to pray always and not lose heart (Luke 18:1). Paul commands us to pray without ceasing (1 Thessalonians 5:17). As priests, we are called to stand in the gap — for our families, our church, our communities, and even for strangers.

Prayer isn’t limited to a set time or place. It’s a posture — a lifestyle. I tell the church that one preacher once said, “I never pray more than 30 minutes, but I never go 30 minutes without praying.” That kind of constant communion with God is what we’re after.

We’re also called to pray for all the saints — not just ourselves. Ephesians 6:18 says to pray with all kinds of prayers, at all times, with all perseverance, for all the saints. When someone asks for prayer, don’t just say “I’ll pray for you.” Actually stop and pray. And then follow up with encouragement. Let people know they are being lifted up — it brings strength and hope.

2. We Prophesy.

When we hear the word “prophecy,” many people immediately think of predictions about the future. But the New Testament shows us that prophecy in the church is about edifying, encouraging, and comforting others (1 Corinthians 14:3).

Every Spirit-filled believer can walk in this. If you’re listening to the Lord, He will give you words to build others up. This might happen through a conversation, a prayer, a message, or even a text. The Lord often speaks through His people — not always with thunder, but with quiet, Spirit-led words that bring peace, strength, and direction.

We must speak words that lift people, not tear them down. We don’t always know what others are going through, but God does — and He can use us to minister deeply if we’re willing and attentive. Let us be people who speak life, who point others to Christ, and who remind them of God's faithfulness.

3. We Proclaim the Gospel.

The final priestly responsibility is to proclaim the good news. In Romans 15:16, Paul says he has received a priestly duty to proclaim the gospel to the Gentiles. That same duty is now ours. Evangelism is not just for the few — it is for every royal priest.

We don’t need to have a seminary degree to share Jesus. We simply need to be willing. It could be a conversation with a neighbor, a word to a co-worker, a Scripture given to someone on the street, or a prayer offered for someone in pain. The world is desperate for hope — and we carry the message of eternal hope.

I remind the church of a man who gave gospel tracts and the Gospel of John wherever he went — in taxis, at restaurants, in stores. His life reminds me that it’s not about perfection, but about intentionality. It’s never too late to begin. If you haven’t shared the gospel in years — start now. The time is short. The need is great.

A Church of Priests

I tell the church — I don’t want us to be known for slick programs or polished sermons. I want us to be known as a people of prayer, a church that speaks life, a community that carries the gospel. Let us be faithful priests. Let us use our time, our gifts, and our words to serve both God and people.

We are not just waiting for heaven. We are working until He comes. We don’t know when our time will be up — but as long as we are here, we are on assignment. Let us not waste the privilege of being priests unto God.

So I declare again — I am a priest unto the Lord.
And I remind the church — You are priests unto the Lord.
Let us pray.
Let us prophesy.
Let us proclaim.

All for His glory. Amen.

God Works In Times Of Crisis

Let’s look at the story of Gideon in the Book of Judges — a powerful reminder that even in the darkest, most desperate times, God is not absent. In fact, He is most active.

The condition of Israel during Gideon’s time was very difficult. The people were oppressed by the Midianites for seven years. Their crops were stolen, their land was vandalized, and they lived in fear. But more than that, their hearts had strayed from God. And this is the pattern we see throughout Judges — God’s people sin, they suffer, they cry out, and then God sends a deliverer. Even in discipline, God’s mercy is at work. He allows crisis not to crush us, but to call us back.

This is not just Israel’s story — it’s ours too. We’ve all had seasons where we drift, where we feel spiritually dry, and life starts to fall apart. But those are the very moments when God draws near. He does not abandon us. He calls us. He prepares us. And often, He chooses someone unexpected to lead change.

That someone, in this case, was Gideon — a man hiding in fear, trying to preserve a little wheat, quietly threshing it in a winepress. He wasn’t standing strong or leading boldly. He was scared. He felt alone. He felt small. Yet that’s exactly where God met him. And not with condemnation — but with affirmation. God called him a “mighty warrior.” He saw potential that Gideon couldn’t see in himself.

God sees us the same way. In our fear, our doubt, even our failure — He still calls us His own. He sees more in us than we see in ourselves. And when we feel the most overwhelmed, when we are battling alone in silence, He comes and whispers, “I am with you.” What a powerful promise!

Gideon struggled to believe this. He gave excuses — “I’m the least in my family… my clan is the weakest… I can’t do this alone.” Maybe you’ve felt that way too. But God doesn’t call the qualified — He qualifies the called. He told Gideon, “I will be with you,” and that made all the difference.

I urge you all: don’t give up the inheritance God has given you. Don’t let the enemy rob you of your joy, your purpose, your children, your calling. Fight for it — even if it means fighting in fear. Even if you feel alone. Because when God is with you, you’re never truly alone.

Let’s look at a deeper truth: reconciliation. Before Gideon could lead the nation, God told him to tear down his father’s altar to Baal and offer a seven-year-old bull as a sacrifice. Why seven years? Because that’s how long Israel had been in disobedience. I explained that reconciliation with God isn’t casual — it comes at a cost. It demands sincerity. It calls for repentance.

Too often, we want God’s forgiveness without giving weight to the process. But reconciliation isn’t just saying sorry — it’s turning back with our whole heart. God takes intercession seriously. That’s why Jesus died for us — not because God couldn’t forgive, but because justice demanded a price. Our sins matter. And God, in His mercy, provides a way back — but it requires us to take that step.

I want to encourage you: come back to God. Don’t wait. Don’t take His grace for granted. Reconciliation is possible — but it must be valued. If you’re distant from God, this is your moment. His arms are open wide.

And then, one of the most beautiful parts of the story — Gideon built an altar and called it Jehovah Shalom — “The Lord is Peace.” I told the congregation: even when everything around you is chaos, you can still experience God’s peace. Gideon still lived in a land under oppression. The enemy still roamed. But his heart was settled. Why? Because God’s presence was with him.

That’s what I long for each of us to experience — the peace of God that surpasses all understanding. It’s not found in perfect circumstances. It’s found in a surrendered heart. I ask everyone: have you felt that peace today? Not just sang about it, not just heard it preached — but felt it? That inner calm, that assurance that God is near, even in the storm?

Because it’s available. Right now. Today. God's Spirit is moving, and if you hear His voice, don’t harden your heart. Embrace His peace. Embrace His presence. Embrace His call.

Like Gideon, you may feel weak, but you are chosen. You may feel unworthy, but God sees a deliverer in you. You may be fighting quietly in a winepress, but God is calling you mighty. And He promises — “I will be with you.”

And that’s all we need. Like Moses said, “Lord, unless You go with us, don’t send us from here.” That’s the kind of hunger we need — not for what the world offers, but for God Himself.

So I urge you: embrace reconciliation. Embrace His peace. Embrace the call. God is working — even now — in your time of crisis.

Amen.

Seek Truth In Our Walk With God

God often desires to change something in us, even when that process is uncomfortable. Many of us, including myself, are naturally resistant to change. We prefer stability, familiarity, and the comforts of life—our homes, our beds, our routines. But I warned that the comfort of modern life can easily become a snare. These comforts can subtly draw us away from hungering and thirsting after God and His righteousness. As Jesus said in the Sermon on the Mount, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled.” That is the heart God is looking for—not a full, self-sufficient heart, but one that longs and aches for Him.

The Word God laid on my heart came from 1 Peter 2:1–3. But to truly grasp its power, we looked back at the context in chapter 1, where Peter speaks of our salvation being rooted not in perishable things, but in the imperishable Word of God. Because we have been born again by this eternal Word, we are called to a life that reflects that truth. That’s why Peter says “Therefore...”—because of what Christ has done, here’s what must change in us.

Peter urges us to lay aside five specific sinful behaviors: malice, deceit, hypocrisy, envy, and slander. These are not just occasional struggles; they are heart conditions that poison our walk with Christ if left unchecked.

• Malice: This is the hidden desire to do harm, or to think evil of others. Even if we never act on these thoughts, the fact that they live in our minds reveals something deeply wrong. The battlefield of the Christian life is not just in our actions—it’s in our thoughts. Jesus taught that what defiles a person comes from within. That’s why we need the Word and the Spirit to purify us at the level of the heart.

• Deceit: I spoke candidly about the danger of pretending to be more spiritual than we really are. In our church settings, there’s often a pressure to appear holy, to perform. But God doesn’t want performances—He wants reality. It’s better to be broken and honest before Him than polished and fake before others. We must resist the temptation to seek the approval of men more than the approval of God.

• Hypocrisy: Related to deceit, this is about wearing a mask—saying one thing and doing another. Jesus used this word most often for the Pharisees, who looked godly on the outside but were corrupt inside. Today, many Christians fall into the same trap. We know how to act, how to sound spiritual, but if it’s not real, it’s dangerous. Hypocrisy is spiritual acting, and it distances us from the presence and power of God.

• Envy: I explained the subtle but corrosive power of envy—the longing to have what others have, whether it be possessions, positions, or even spiritual gifts. Envy often leads to bitterness, competition, and even secret joy when someone else fails. But love calls us to rejoice with those who rejoice, not resent them.

• Slander: This one hit close to home. I confessed that this is a battle I personally face. It is frightening how easily words of criticism or judgment can come out of our mouths, especially when we justify them as “prayer concerns.” We must guard our tongues. Real love does not gossip—it weeps, it prays, it restores.

These five sins are connected to the call in 2 Timothy 3:13, which warns that evil people and imposters will go from bad to worse, “deceiving and being deceived.” When we choose deceit, we open ourselves up to deception. If we are not grounded in truth—if we don't live honestly before God—we may no longer recognize the truth when we hear it.

And that is dangerous. We’ve seen leaders fall. We’ve seen public downfalls. But I shudder to think how many more are falling silently, unexposed, because of a life of pretense. It reminds me that the size of our ministry, the applause we receive, the excellence of our programs—none of that impresses God. What He’s looking for is holiness. Truth. A heart that beats in sync with His.

This isn’t about guilt or shame. It’s about returning to the sincere, pure spiritual milk of the Word. As Peter says, “like newborn babies, crave pure spiritual milk.” That hunger leads to growth. That hunger leads to maturity. That hunger leads to transformation.

This is not a call to try harder, but to surrender. To lay aside the pretense. To ask God to remove the heart of stone and give us a heart of flesh. To confess, to repent, to long for the Word again. And to allow the Holy Spirit to purify us from within, so that His power might flow freely through us.

I believe God is preparing to move in our midst—but it begins with judgment and cleansing in His house. The revival we long for begins in our hearts. And so we prayed together, standing before God with open hearts, asking Him to do the deep work only He can do.

Amen.