Being a Priest in the 21st century

Some hear I am on this path of priesthood for Satan and immediately think the worst.

I’ve been told they misjudged me due to the scary connotations of the satanic label. I’ve met people from various traditions, from the future rabbi to the pagan folk. Being a priest for Satan isn’t limited to helping Satanists. I am one of his hands, his eyes, and his words and, as pompous as it sounds, it mostly means I am one of his anchor points, here, on Earth. His will is mine, his breath is in my lungs. It sounds intense, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Not born into it, but chosen for it

In many spiritual traditions, priesthood has historically been a matter of lineage or heritage. Families passed the mantle of spiritual leadership down through generations, keeping the priestly class distinct and rooted in their communities. Whether it was the Brahmins of India, the hereditary Druids, or priestly families in ancient Egypt, lineage often determined one’s eligibility to serve the divine.

But today, the calling to priesthood transcends bloodlines. For many modern spiritual paths, including my own, lineage is irrelevant. I don’t come from a line of priests, no family tradition of ritual, no inherited mantle of sacred responsibility. My path wasn’t paved for me by ancestors; I walked it alone, guided by something far deeper than tradition. This is the beauty of our era: priesthood is not about where you come from but about where your soul leads you. The divine doesn’t check your last name before calling you. It simply asks: Are you willing to serve?

Still, stepping into a role that many associate with ancestral legitimacy can bring its own challenges. There’s always the shadow of doubt, the voice whispering that you don’t belong because you weren’t “born into it.” But I’ve learned that devotion outweighs pedigree. Priesthood, for me, is a matter of spirit, not lineage, a choice to answer the call, even when the path isn’t laid out in front of you.

On doubts

Overcoming doubts was difficult. It is a great honor, but there’s an expectation when you bear that title. At the beginning of the path, I never thought I’d be worthy or capable of standing proud with that title crowning my name. There’s a weight to the title of “priest” that’s hard to explain until you feel it yourself.

It’s not just a label; it’s a role that demands something of you every single day. For me, the doubts weren’t just about whether I was worthy, they were about whether I was capable. Could I hold space for others while still growing myself? Could I teach when I still had so much to learn? Could I guide when I sometimes felt lost? It’s a delicate balance, and at the beginning, it seemed impossible. But I’ve come to understand that doubts don’t disqualify you; they remind you of the depth of the path you’re walking. They push you to grow into the role, not just claim it.

My duties as a priest

Duties and responsibilities are an inherent thing in priesthood. We don’t just claim to be priests one random day. We learn how to guide people, how to help them, initiate them, teach them about the divinity you are a priest for, and so on. Nobody is born ready for this path; it takes work, yes, but it mostly takes practice.

This is where many people misunderstand the role. They think a priest is simply someone who performs rituals or channels divine energy. But it’s so much more than that. Being a priest means you are a shepherd, a teacher, and sometimes even a counselor. You don’t just lead rituals, you guide people through their darkest moments, their doubts, their fears. You help them find their connection to the divine when they feel lost.

And let’s be clear: not everyone who calls themselves a priest is truly serving the divine. I’ve encountered some priests in training who were in it for the power and not once bothered helping the lost. Others see priesthood as a stage, a spotlight for their own egos. But real priesthood? It’s quiet. It’s patient. It’s standing in the background and letting others shine because you’re there to serve, not to be served.

Priesthood in the 21st century

We have to adapt to our age and time. Today, your local priests might be your café’s favorite and reserved barista, or your dentist. Priests don’t need to make an income from their faith. They can, but some choose not to. Personally, I haven’t had that much trouble balancing my mundane life, my spiritual life, and my priesthood services. I have a dedicated day of the week, which is actually my day off, where people can come to me (free or not) and receive readings, channelings, or guidance.

This adaptability is what makes priesthood today so powerful. We are no longer confined to temples or sacred spaces. The divine is everywhere; in the morning coffee you make, in the conversations you have at work, in the quiet moments when you’re simply present for someone who needs you. Priesthood doesn’t demand you leave your life behind; it asks you to bring the divine into every part of it.

What about covens?

Coven work is something that everyone on this path must have wondered about. When I first began, I thought I wouldn’t have a coven, too complicated, too difficult to socialize for me at that time. However, I grew a deep love for sharing things with the world, and the idea of a tight-knit community has been growing on me for the past few years. Working with others, sharing rituals, and creating a space where everyone can connect to the divine.. it’s something I didn’t know I needed. A coven isn’t just a group of people; it’s a family. It’s a place where you can be vulnerable, where you can grow together. It’s not always easy, but the rewards are worth every challenge.

Being a priest everyday

My daily life as a priest is simple but sacred. It consists of prayers, learning, reading, learning again, writing sometimes, and reading some more. There’s a rhythm to it, a balance between the mundane and the sacred. More than being about grand gestures or elaborate rituals, it’s about consistency, showing up every day for the divine, for yourself, and for the people who need you.

For those who feel called

If you feel drawn to the path of priesthood, know that the calling isn’t a declaration, it’s a question. It doesn’t ask, “Are you worthy?” It asks, “Are you willing to listen? To learn? To serve?” Priesthood begins in humility, in the quiet moments where you sit with yourself and the divine and ask, “What can I give, and what do I need to grow?”

Start small. Priesthood isn’t about grand gestures or rushing to claim a title, but about laying a foundation, piece by piece. Read everything you can, and not just about your chosen path, but about others. Understanding different traditions can sharpen your own perspective.

Observe people; what they need, what they fear, what they hope for. Priesthood is as much about humanity as it is about the divine.

Be patient with yourself. You don’t need to have all the answers right away. In fact, you never will, and that’s okay. Priesthood is about showing up, even when you feel uncertain or unprepared, more than chasing perfection. It’s about learning through practice, through mistakes, through the moments when you think you’ve failed but find you’ve grown instead.

And finally, remember that priesthood isn’t a solitary crown, it’s a shared current. Find mentors, guides, or even peers who can walk alongside you. Priesthood may ask for independence, but it doesn’t demand isolation. Let yourself be part of something greater, and let others help you shape your path.

If you feel that tug toward priesthood, listen. It might lead you places you never expected, but it will always, always be worth it.

The Devil's Apple