Priesthood Authority: The Question Most Christians Avoid
- Gary Toyn
- Apr 28
- 8 min read
A note before you read, here’s my bias: I’m a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. That means I have a position on how the question this article raises gets answered. I'm asking you to engage with the argument anyway. Not because I anticipate you’ll agree, but because I think the question deserves more honest attention than most Christians give it, regardless of where they land.
The images above show Peter holding keys. Not one depiction, but several, across centuries of Christian art and sculpture. They all point to the same moment: Matthew 16:19, where Christ tells him, "I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven."
Those keys weren't decorative or symbolic. In the theology of the early Church, they represented priesthood authority: the delegated right to act in God's name, to perform ordinances, and to govern His kingdom on earth. Most Christians recognize that image. Fewer have stopped to ask what those keys actually represent, or whether it matters who holds them today.
Here's a question many Christians have rarely considered seriously: Does it matter who performs ordinances like baptism?
Not whether it's done sincerely. Not whether the person believes. But whether they had the authority to do it in the first place. If the answer is yes, the implications are significant. If the answer is no, that's worth understanding too.
If Priesthood Authority Is Real, It Changes Everything
Most Christians don't spend much time thinking about priesthood authority.
It's not something that comes up in everyday conversation. It feels abstract. Maybe even unnecessary. For many, it sits in the background, overshadowed by more familiar ideas like faith, grace, and personal devotion.
But every once in a while, the question surfaces.
Not loudly. Not as a debate topic. More as a quiet thought: Does it actually matter who has the authority to act in God's name?
And if it does, how would we even recognize it?
Because if priesthood authority is real, it's not a side issue. It may have more to do with salvation than we often assume.
A Simple Way to Think About Authority
There's a moment in the Old Testament that has always stood out to me.
Joseph, the son who was sold into Egypt, now stands before Pharaoh. Against all odds, he has risen from prisoner to the Pharaoh's second-in-command. And then Pharaoh does something remarkable. He removes his signet ring and places it on Joseph's hand.
In that moment, everything changes.
The ring wasn't decorative. It represented authority. With it, Joseph could act in Pharaoh's name. His words carried weight. His decisions were binding. He wasn't just offering advice anymore. He was governing.
Without that ring, Joseph might still have been wise. He might have given the same counsel. But his words would not have carried the authority of the king.
That distinction matters.
Because it introduces a simple but important idea: acting in someone's name requires more than sincerity. It requires authority.
That's a helpful way to think about priesthood authority.
Not as status. Not as hierarchy. But as the right to act in the name of the King.
The Pattern We See in Scripture
When you start looking for that idea in the New Testament, it's hard to miss.
Christ does not simply invite people to follow Him. He calls specific individuals, gives them power, and sends them out with purpose. The Twelve are not interchangeable with the crowds. The Seventy are appointed and sent. There is intention behind who is called and what they are authorized to do.
As the Church begins to grow, that pattern continues.
The apostles organize. They teach. They correct. They ordain others to lead local congregations. There is structure. There is order. There are defined roles.
And perhaps most importantly, those roles are not assumed. They are given.
No one simply steps forward and declares authority. It must be conferred.
That pattern is consistent enough that it raises a natural question: If authority had to be given then, why would it not matter now?
When Authority Is Ignored
This is not just a New Testament idea.
Long before Christ's ministry, we see that authority mattered in very practical ways. One of the clearest examples comes from the life of Saul.
Saul was the king. He had power, influence, and responsibility. But there were still boundaries. When he offered a sacrifice that he was not authorized to perform, he was rebuked.
What's striking about that moment is what he was not rebuked for. He was not condemned for offering the wrong sacrifice. He was condemned for superseding the authority of someone having authority to perform priestly duties.
In other words, the issue was not the act itself. It was the authority behind the act.
That only makes sense if God places limits on who can act in His name. It suggests that even sincere intentions do not replace authorized action.
In that sense, ordinances like baptism are not about earning anything. They are about receiving something God himself has established, through authority He has given.
That idea can feel uncomfortable. It challenges the assumption that sincerity is enough.
But it is there in the Biblical text.
The same assumption runs through one of Paul's most overlooked statements. In 1 Corinthians 15:29 he asks: "Now if there is no resurrection, what will those do who are baptized for the dead?" (italics added)
He doesn't explain the practice. He doesn't defend it. He uses it as a premise in a logical argument, which means he assumed his readers already understood it and accepted it as legitimate.
But notice what else is embedded in that assumption. If baptism for the living required authority, there is no reason to think baptism for the dead would be any different. Paul's rhetorical question assumes an ordinance. An ordinance assumes it is performed by someone with authority. He doesn't say so explicitly because he doesn't need to. His audience already knew.
That's a detail most Christians have never examined. But it's there in the text.
The Question We Don't Always Ask
The early Christian Church was not loosely organized.
It was led by apostles who taught doctrine, resolved disputes, and established leaders. Their presence provided clarity and direction.
But history moves forward. Time passes.
And eventually, those apostles are gone.
So what happens then?
It's a simple question, but it carries a lot of weight.
Because if authority was tied to those individuals, their absence raises an unavoidable issue. Does that authority continue in the same way? Does it change? Is it lost?
Different traditions answer that question differently.
But the question itself is hard to ignore.
What the New Testament Actually Warns
If the New Testament described a future of uninterrupted stability, this question might not carry the same urgency.
But that is not the picture we are given.
Instead, we find repeated warnings:
2 Thessalonians 2:3 (NIV): "Don't let anyone deceive you in any way, for that day will not come until the falling away occurs." (Note: "falling away" is translated as "apostasy" or “rebellion” in many other versions.)
Acts 20:29–30 (NLT): “I know that false teachers, like vicious wolves, will come in among you after I leave, not sparing the flock.”
2 Timothy 4:3 (NIV): "The time will come when people will not put up with sound doctrine."
These are not isolated statements. They form a pattern.
The expectation is not that everything will remain clear and intact. It is that confusion, drift, and loss are real possibilities.
That does not prove how far that loss extends. But it does open the door to the possibility that something significant changes after the apostolic era.
"Why Would God Allow an Apostasy?"
That is the natural objection.
Why would God allow His Church to fall into confusion or apostasy?
The honest answer is that apostasy is a well-established pattern. It’s not be new.
God reveals truth. His people receive it. Over time, they drift. They lose clarity. They reshape doctrine that was given. They fall away, pay the consequences, and eventually, God must intervene.
This cycle appears repeatedly throughout the Old Testament.
After Moses, Israel quickly turns to idolatry with the golden calf. In the period of the Judges, every man did what was right in his own eyes as the people repeatedly fell into apostasy.
Following Solomon, the kingdom fractures and drifts spiritually, with prophets like Elijah calling people back from widespread corruption.
At times, prophetic voices even seem to disappear entirely, followed by moments where God raises them up again. Samuel emerges after a period described as a time when the word of the Lord was rare. Later, prophets like Elijah and Isaiah are sent to confront apostasy and restore true worship.
God does not eliminate agency in order to preserve continuity.
He allows His people to choose. And that means He also allows the possibility of loss.
Seen in that context, the idea of a broader apostasy is not an exception. It fits an established pattern.
Three Ways to Answer the Question
When you bring all of this together, the issue of priesthood authority comes into sharper focus.
There are really only a few ways to approach it.
One is to believe that authority continued in an unbroken line from the apostles to the present. This is the position held by Catholic and Eastern Orthodox traditions.
Another is to conclude that formal authority is no longer necessary in the same way, that faith alone is sufficient for anyone to act in God's name. That's the position of most Protestants.
A third is to believe that authority was lost and later restored. That is the position of the
Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and it's where my own understanding leads. See that position explained here: https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/manual/gospel-topics/apostasy?lang=eng
Each of these positions makes sense within its own framework. But each requires a decision.
There is no neutral ground.
What Scripture Leaves Open
The Bible is clear about some things.
It shows that authority existed. It shows that it was given. It shows that it mattered.
It also warns that a falling away would occur.
What it does not do is answer every question we might have about how those two ideas fully intersect.
It does not provide a detailed timeline. It does not spell out exactly how authority is affected or for how long.
That leaves space. And in that space, we make choices about how we interpret what we see.
Why This Still Matters
It would be easy to treat this as an abstract discussion.
But it isn't.
If authority does not matter, then it truly does not matter who baptizes, who ordains, or who leads. Those actions become expressions of faith, but not necessarily binding acts.
But if authority does matter, then those same questions take on a different weight.
They become personal.
Because at some point, each of us has to decide whether acting in the name of God requires more than belief. More than intention. More than sincerity.
A Final Thought
If priesthood authority is real, it changes everything, not just for institutions, but for individuals. For every baptism. Every ordination. Every ordinance performed in God's name. The question isn't whether authority matters in principle. It's whether we're willing to follow that question wherever it leads.
Would we have recognized Christ in His day, or trusted the established voices that condemned anyone claiming authority beyond their own?
And if it was ever lost, then understanding where it was restored matters more than most of us have been willing to admit.
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