Our Role as Pilgrim-Priests in God's Story
As a kid, I was delighted to take part in a Christmas pageant. As I readied myself for the performance, my elation peaked when I marked my face with charcoal—the definitive piece of my chimney sweep outfit.
For reasons unknown to me, my memory of being in a pageant (in which I was actually a shepherd) at some point merged with another memory of performing in Mary Poppins.
This got me thinking about what would happen if a chimney sweep did accidentally appear in the gospel story. I suspect if they arrived at the manger awaiting the cue to tap dance, leap across rooftops, and climb Big Ben, well…they would soon feel out of place. Because they’d be in the wrong story.
Our role in the story
When we feel out of sorts, when a role in our lives has a sense of incongruence, when we are fumbling like a chimney sweep before a heavenly chorus of angels, it is worth asking:
“How are my stories tangled up right now?”
By “stories” I mean the experiences and situations that help us get a sense of who we are, what we’re supposed to do in life, and how to make sense of the environment around us. A “role,” on the other hand, is a unique way of being in the world and relating to a person or group. Most of us slip in and out of different roles unconsciously every day; we are coworkers, employees, spouses, friends, children, parents, neighbours, and so on. However, each role we play is unique because it carries its own set of expectations, behaviours, and values—they require a wardrobe change if you will. In fact, consider your own actual wardrobe to maybe identify some of your roles—what clothes do you wear for work or celebrations? Around the house or heading to lunch with a friend?
The stories that we live shape these roles. And, put together, all these various roles form the contours and substance of our lives.
In these different roles, our identities are shaped, worked out, and enfleshed. They provide creative spaces where God affirms our identity in Christ; each role is a channel for him to shower his love upon the world as Christ is revealed in and through us for the sake of others. In sum, our roles are where identity and mission meet in practical ways.
Our roles are where identity and mission meet in practical ways.
There is no neutral place—no epistemological Switzerland, as a favourite professor of mine would say—for our spiritual formation apart from stories. Our family histories, life experiences, local and national contexts, and, yes, the gospel are all stories that influence the way we go about our roles and inform how we play them out. All of this may be great in theory, but sometimes, despite our best efforts, we do feel miscast—like we were assigned the wrong role or like we’re even in the wrong story altogether. We may eschew compartmentalization of the various metaphorical hats we wear and attempt to offer our whole lives to Christ, yet we still find ourselves feeling like a chimney sweep at the birth of Jesus. Something is out of place. So, when we ask, “How are my stories tangled up right now?” we invariably will see that we are never formed by one story alone.
This being said, when we sense incongruency between these aspects of our lives, we shouldn’t be surprised. Even so, we can turn to the gospel as our definitive story to help us navigate the balled-up-messes-of-yarn that are our own stories. The gospel imparts an identity to us that is crucial for living within this tension and offers guidance in understanding our part in God’s larger story.
The metaphors of pilgrims and priests
To get a sense of this identity, we can look at the myriad metaphors that describe our union with Christ. They are harmonious of course, not to be pitted against each other, but each can stand on its own or partner more aptly with other metaphors to help us understand who we are in Christ, and, ultimately, situate us within the stories in which we find ourselves.
I want to consider two metaphors explored in depth by Stefan Paas in his critical but uncynical book Pilgrims and Priests. Drawing heavily upon 1 Peter, Paas explores our calling to be pilgrims and priests. And although these could be roles—a pilgrim travelling along El Camino de Santiago or an Anglican priest such as myself writing an article for instance—according to Paas, for Christians these are not just roles: they are identities.
Our identity as pilgrims and priests is particularly apt at enabling us to be faithful witnesses within the tensions of participating in God’s mission in the secular West. Paas surveys how these two metaphors are “indispensable for the missionary identity of small Christian communities in secular society,” and according to Paas, they are “an important beginning of identity formation” (Paas, 174, 208). Our adoption as children of God lays the foundation, but our identity as pilgrims and priests is the initial brick and mortar built upon that foundation.
How are we pilgrims and priests?
Let’s take a look at how Paas describes Christians as pilgrims and priests.
FIRST, WE ARE PILGRIMS.
The apostle Peter addressed the church in 1 Peter as exiles residing in the diaspora (1 Pet 1:1)—a people scattered throughout different areas. But the strangers and exiles of 1 Peter are not enduring the geographical displacement of ancient Israel such as we see in Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Daniel, etc. but instead they are displaced due to their allegiance to Jesus and his kingdom.
The author of Hebrews proposes this is true of the faithful across time and space—no matter our earthly circumstances, we are all passing through on our way to a true and better city. Paas argues the story of God leads us to instill such an understanding in our identity: this world is not our home. Therefore, there will always be a sense of incongruity between who we are and where we are, no matter how good things may be around us.
This discomfort is an invitation into mission. We are not called to disengage from the world because of its temporality. Rather, Paas draws upon a well-known passage in Jeremiah: “Seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare” (Jer 29:7). Paas argues that strangers and exiles—or pilgrims—are invited to find a positive missionary engagement in which to seek the common good whenever possible. We do not abandon the world and humanity but journey together with these ambivalent travelling companions on our way back home.
As pilgrims in exile, Paas postulates that a critical task is finding a way to maintain identity. Exiles are most often a minority whose own stories about life and meaning are contested by the broader population or at the very least are seen as peculiar. Being surrounded and inundated with the stories of the world and culture, exiles must find ways to sustain their unique identity while remaining engaged in the pursuit of the common good. This particular challenge is why Paas follows 1 Peter in pairing exiles with priests.
SECOND, WE ARE PRIESTS.
Like many scholars, Paas draws a connection between Exodus 19 and 1 Peter. Jesus fulfills the calling of Israel to be “a kingdom of priests and a holy nation” (Ex 19:6). The church is “a holy priesthood” by virtue of being the body of Christ, and her purpose is “to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ” (1 Pet 2:5). Paas reasons that the church as a collective has a “priesthood,” and its members, by extension, are priests (i.e. the universal priesthood of all believers). Yet Paas rightly emphasizes that this can’t be individualistic. Because we are not merely individuals but persons in relationship. So, as the church and as persons, we are called to represent God before humanity and the world as well as the world and humanity before God. This is what it means to share in Christ’s priesthood.
Once again, I want to highlight the emphasis Paas places on finding a positive missionary engagement. While some priests in history have been used as vessels of God’s judgement (see Ex. 32:25-29), the primary role of the priesthood is to bless and mediate a healthy relationship between God and his people, the people and their God, and between the people themselves. Paas writes, “As a representative of God among humanity the Christian community has a serving, friendly, patient, witnessing, blessing lifestyle, just like Jesus Christ who leads it as a priest. Its existence is characterized by hope for God’s salvation, but also by the hope that people around her will glorify God” (Paas, 181). This is the aim of our collective and personal witness as priests in exile.
As the church and as persons, we are called to represent God before humanity and the world as well as the world and humanity before God. This is what it means to share in Christ’s priesthood.
What this identity means for us
So, what implications do these facets of our identity in Christ have for our roles? What does it mean for us to be pilgrim-priest-spouses or pilgrim-priest-employees or pilgrim-priest-neighbours?
As a practical example, I’ll explain a personal situation. I read Pilgrims and Priests while on Sabbatical. My Sabbatical began before in-person services resumed at my church which means, due to the pandemic, it had been over 18 months since I had gathered face-to-face on a regular basis with my church. I felt (and still feel) a sense of fragility and disconnect due to the disruption of the pandemic. It also exacerbated deeper struggles of church planting I’ve carried over the past decade: Why are the results so small? Why aren’t there more baptisms? How can we really know if our church is having any positive impact on the city? Despite having a self-sustaining and healthy church, I often feel like I’ve failed because the fruit has been small.
But if the church is envisioned as pilgrims and priests? The answer to my doubts and fears is, “Not so.” Or perhaps more emphatically, “Never!” Paas pulls these two metaphors together in an effort to move away from viewing the church solely as an instrument that God uses for his mission. “Christians do good, not to be effective or create opportunities for success,” writes Paas, “but in order to glorify the generous, merciful God who has brought about the world out of nothing and who creates life out of death. They do not work on the basis of optimism, but on the basis of faith, hope, and love” (Paas, 227). As pilgrims in an increasingly secularized and post-Christian society, we must not despair over the results of our efforts—even if we long to see more ‘fruit’ in terms of conversion and social impact. And as priests, we can trust that our mediating presence matters before God, even if it seems to matter less and less to the world we so dearly love.
This resistance to seeing the church as a mere instrument also has significance for our roles. For example, if we see our roles only as instruments for evangelism, in a real way, we violate the role. It is good to be a friend, to be a co-worker, to be a spouse, to be a neighbour. And to do so in a way that reflects Christ is very good. But each of these roles has a purpose beyond evangelism alone.
And while we need to be cautious about turning the role of the church and of individuals into instruments, this does not mean that we then need to shy away from evangelism entirely either. Over and over again, Paas stresses that evangelism is an indispensable part of God’s mission. Of course there is more to missional engagement than evangelism, but there is no mission without it.
Remembering our identity amid tension
As pilgrim-priests in these many quotidian roles, we can heed the exhortation of 1 Peter to “always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect” (1 Pet 3:15). In other words, in any given role, we will experience some tension and disconnect. Our stories will get tangled up—our identity as pilgrims says this is inevitable. But as pilgrim-priests, mission takes place within the entanglement as we journey onward and upward toward our heavenly call in Christ (Phil 3:14).
In any role, we can gain clarity as we ground ourselves in our identity as priests. Because as priests, we seek to bless God and bless others. How we do this in each role will vary and look different, but it can all be tied together with this thread: no matter the results, the work of this priesthood is good. Yes, in every role as pilgrim-priests, we eagerly pray and seek to be signs and witnesses to Christ and the free gift of his salvation. We may or may not see the fruit we desire. No matter what, this identity reminds us that there is a better priest who is reconciling everything to himself (Col 1:15-23). And his story is big enough to welcome confused chimney sweeps who stumble into the scene wanting to play a role in the story he is unfolding.
About the Author
Alastair Sterne is the founding and lead pastor of St. Peter’s Fireside in Vancouver and serves as canon of church planting for the Anglican Network in Canada. He previously worked in communications and design. He is a graduate of Asbury Theological Seminary and is currently working on a doctorate in intercultural studies at Fuller Theological Seminary. He also serves on the board of Always Forward, the church planting initiative of the Anglican Church in North America. He lives in Vancouver with his wife and children.