If Jesus Christ is your High Priest, then you no longer need any other mediator… you have direct access to God. But that also means your life becomes priestly—you offer yourself, your work, your relationships, as living sacrifices… You are brought into His ministry, not just saved by it.— Timothy Keller
Since then we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession.
For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin.
Throughout Scripture, the priesthood was never merely a role; it was a divine longing. From the very beginning, God wanted humanity to draw near to Him in worship, intercession, and sacred service. Whether through offering sacrifices, burning incense, caring for the temple, or blessing the people, the priesthood revealed something deeply intimate, a relationship between God and man. And from its earliest shadows, it pointed forward to one Person: Jesus, the eternal and final High Priest.
Even before Aaron, men like Abel, Noah, Abraham, Job, Isaac, and Jacob performed priestly functions, offering sacrifices and calling on God’s presence. But then Scripture introduces a mysterious and remarkable figure: Melchizedek, King of Salem and priest of the Most High God.
Melchizedek was extraordinary, not only a priest, but a king. He was greater than Abraham and, by extension, greater than Levi, who was still in Abraham’s loins. His priesthood was not inherited. It was unbound by lineage or law. It was a prophetic glimpse into a new order, one that foreshadowed Christ Himself.
Under the Mosaic covenant, the roles of king and priest were kept strictly separate. Kings came from Judah; priests from Levi. When King Saul offered a sacrifice, stepping into priestly territory, he lost his throne (1 Samuel 13). The message was clear: one man could not carry both mantles. Yet Melchizedek, who preceded the Law entirely, was both. Centuries later, David offered sacrifices and blessed his household without consequence. What revelation was David walking in?
The Aaronic priesthood faced regular resistance and rebellion, as seen in the revolt of Korah, Dathan, and Abiram. By contrast, Melchizedek’s priesthood was unchallenged. The Aaronic order carried a deeper vulnerability: its authority could be contested by man and accused by Satan. In Zechariah 3, Joshua the high priest stood before the Lord, opposed by Satan, dressed in filthy garments. It was a sobering picture of how sin tainted even the most sacred office.
This moment revealed the need for a priest whose authority could never be shaken; one who could stand before God on man’s behalf, without blemish or accusation.
We catch the earliest glimpse of such a priest in Eden. When Adam and Eve sinned, death loomed. But an atonement was made. Blood was shed to cover their nakedness. Who made that atonement? God Himself. The first priest. The sinless Priest. The only One who could cover sin without sharing in it.
The priesthood was formally established under the Law in Exodus 28. Aaron and his sons were set apart from the tribe of Levi for sacred service. Their garments were holy and symbolic, but they were still men with weaknesses. And with the Aaronic priesthood came a painful limitation: only Levites could serve. Anyone else who drew near would die (Numbers 18:7). This priesthood was tribal, temporary, and restricted; Melchizedek’s was universal and eternal.
Jesus, therefore, could not serve as a priest under the old covenant. He came from the tribe of Judah, not Levi. A new covenant was needed to birth a new priesthood.
This High Priest had to be both divine and human; sinless, yet able to die; eternal, yet able to feel human weakness. Only Jesus could fulfil this. He came not by legal requirement but by the power of an indestructible life.
And unlike Aaron, Jesus never caved under pressure. When the Israelites grew restless, Aaron built them a golden calf. When confronted, he shifted the blame (Exodus 32). His failure was not just personal; it was systemic. The Aaronic priesthood shared in the very weaknesses it was meant to intercede for. Human priests cannot save others from a condition they themselves carry. Their sacrifices had to be repeated. Their intercession had limits.
But in Jesus, we find a better way:
He is not removed from our struggles; He entered them. He does not observe our weakness from a distance; He knows it from the inside. He intercedes for us from a place of deep, unwavering compassion.
The old priesthood kept people at a distance. The veil stood as a barrier between man and God’s holy presence. But God’s desire was never distance; it was dwelling. Psalm 133 gives us a tender picture: the anointing oil flowing from Aaron’s head all the way down to the hem of his robe. It foreshadowed the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on Christ and His Body, the Church (Psalm 133:2–3). Acts 10:38 confirms it: God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with power.
So what does the eternal priesthood of Jesus mean for us today?
We have a High Priest who truly understands our weakness. Through His blood, a new and better covenant has been established. The veil is torn. The wall of separation is gone. We now have bold, direct access to the throne of grace. And through Christ, we have been made kings and priests to God (Revelation 5:10), called to offer spiritual sacrifices of worship, obedience, and love.
Christ has restored the dominion mandate, calling us not merely to be rulers, but to live as redeemed priests and kings who walk in worship, authority, and purpose.
So today, draw near with confidence, not as one standing at a distance, but as one welcomed into the very presence of God. You are no longer outside the veil; you are brought near by the blood of Christ. Let your life become a continual offering, a priestly expression of worship, obedience, and love flowing from a heart that knows it belongs.
Consider what it means to live as both priest and king in Christ. You carry His presence, His authority, and His invitation to a world still longing for access. Let your life point others to that open door, so they too may encounter the mercy and love of our eternal High Priest.