The Eternal High Priest and the Futility of Human Substitutes

The Roman Catholic Church has long claimed that Christ requires a visible vicar on earth; the pope; to govern His people until His return. Yet when the testimony of Scripture, prophecy, history, and theological reasoning are considered together, the necessity of such an office collapses. Christ’s eternal priesthood, His unique role as mediator, the shared priesthood of all believers, and the principle of divine predestination reveal that the papacy is not only unnecessary but incoherent.

Psalm 110:4 declares: “You are a priest forever after the order of Melchizedek.” The Septuagint adds in Psalm 109:3: “From the womb, before the morning star, I begot you.” These texts present Christ’s priesthood as eternal, rooted directly in God, and existing before creation itself. The Levitical priests required successors because they were mortal, but Christ “holds His priesthood permanently, because He continues forever” (Hebrews 7:24). His office is timeless, not hereditary, and therefore admits no substitute. To introduce a vicar is to confuse the shadow of the old priesthood with the reality of Christ’s eternal one.

Eusebius of Caesarea emphasized this uniqueness. Unlike the kings, prophets, and priests of Israel, Christ was not installed by armies, consecrated with oil, or appointed by descent. He was anointed directly by the Father with the Holy Spirit. Only He filled the world with His name, and only He inspired followers willing to die for Him. He alone is “the High Priest of creation, the only King, the only Archprophet of the Father.” If Christ is the reality to which all earlier offices pointed, then appointing a human substitute undermines His singularity and suggests that His office requires supplementation. But it does not. Christ is sufficient.

The New Testament reinforces this by extending Christ’s priesthood to His people. Peter writes: “You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation” (1 Peter 2:9). Believers share in Christ’s priesthood, not by hierarchy or ritual consecration, but by union with the eternal High Priest. In this way the church already possesses both its Head and its priesthood. Unity and guidance are secured through Christ, the indwelling Spirit, and the gifts distributed across the body; not through the installation of a single universal monarch. To introduce the papacy is to create redundancy at best, contradiction at worst.

The problem deepens when we consider predestination. If God foreordains all things, then the papal conclave presents an impossible tension. If the papal conclave is constitutive, this means the act of voting itself creates the pope. The man becomes pope because of the ballots cast. In such a framework, the will of the cardinals actually determines the identity of the supreme head of the church. But this immediately collides with the doctrine of divine predestination. If God has foreordained all things; including the leadership of His church (which is Christ); then human votes cannot create what God has already decreed. To say the conclave is constitutive is to say human choice brings into being something that was not eternally fixed by God, thereby usurping divine authority.

On the other hand, if the conclave is merely recognitive, then the ballots do not make someone pope but only acknowledge who God has already chosen from eternity. In this case, the election adds nothing ontologically. The man would be pope whether or not the conclave voted for him. That makes the entire process redundant, because God’s eternal decree needs no human validation.Worse still, a recognitive system introduces the possibility of error: human beings could fail to recognize the one whom God has chosen, mistaking their own preference for divine appointment. Yet in Scripture we see that when God truly appoints, He makes His choice unmistakable. He did not leave His people to guess or to vote; He appointed His Son. “This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased". The Father’s voice, the descent of the Spirit, and the works of power all bore unmistakable witness to Christ’s identity. By contrast, a conclave of ballots and deliberations pales into insignificance, for it is precisely the kind of human mechanism that risks obscuring, rather than clarifying, God’s true choice.

Thus, the conclave is caught in a dilemma. If it is constitutive, it places the ultimate authority in the hands of men, undermining predestination and suggesting that God’s eternal will depends upon ballots. If it is recognitive, it is superfluous, a ceremony with no real effect, and possibly even misleading. Either way, the practice fails to cohere with the logic of a church whose Head and High Priest are already eternally appointed in Christ. The biblical means for appointing leaders; prophetic word, the casting of lots, the Spirit’s direct command; all bear witness to God’s prior choice. By contrast, a conclave is political and sociological, not revelatory. It manufactures an office-holder rather than acknowledging God’s appointment.

The New Testament insists on the unicity of Christ’s mediation. “There is one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus” (1 Timothy 2:5). By claiming supreme jurisdiction and infallible authority, the papacy inevitably functions as a second mediator. However carefully theologians frame the pope’s office as “participation,” the reality is that such claims parallel the unique role that Scripture reserves to Christ alone. The apostolic pattern is not Christ plus a vicar, but Christ as Head and the church as His body.

If something were essential for the church in all ages, it would be clearly revealed in Scripture and exemplified in apostolic practice. Yet the New Testament gives us no institution of a universal successor to Peter, no command to elect a single supreme head, and no model of a conclave. Instead we find plural eldership, distributed gifts, and Spirit-led recognition of leaders. The papacy emerges only later, through contingent political developments, not through apostolic revelation. To call it essential is to claim that Christ left His church incomplete until men supplied what He failed to provide.

History itself warns us of this danger. Josephus records how Hyrcanus secured his high priesthood by making Judea tributary to Rome, trading spiritual authority for political support. The papacy, likewise, has often leaned on worldly mechanisms; conclaves, councils, empires; and has bent under their influence. Whenever sacred authority depends on political machinery, it risks corruption and compromise.

In conclusion, Christ is not like the prophets, priests, or kings of old. They were shadows, but He is the reality. He is the eternal High Priest after the order of Melchizedek, anointed not with oil but with the Spirit. His priesthood is eternal, untransferable, and sufficient. Believers in Him are a royal priesthood, sharing in His mediation directly. The papacy, by contrast, is either redundant or usurping. It is redundant if it merely recognizes God’s choice, usurping if it claims to constitute His appointment. It introduces a second mediator where Scripture allows only one, and it depends on political voting where Scripture shows God’s will revealed by the Spirit.

The church does not need a vicar. It already has its Head, its Shepherd, and its eternal High Priest. Christ Himself is sufficient.

Christ’s Near Four-Year Ministry and the Wednesday Crucifixion in AD 34

Many of my readers know that I have already laid out a strong biblical case against the traditional Friday-to-Sunday crucifixion model. That view, while deeply rooted in church tradition, struggles to hold up when weighed against the plain testimony of Scripture. Jesus Himself declared that He would be in the heart of the earth for three days and three nights—a prophecy that a Friday afternoon to Sunday morning framework cannot fulfill in any literal sense.

The traditional timeline of Christ’s Passion places His crucifixion on a Friday and His resurrection on a Sunday, often in AD 30 or AD 33. But when the evidence of Scripture, prophecy, early church history, and even astronomy are carefully examined together, a different picture emerges. According to early church historian Eusebius of Caesarea; confirmed by hints in the Gospel of John; Christ’s ministry lasted nearly four years, culminating, as I believe, in a crucifixion on Wednesday, Nisan 14, AD 34, with a resurrection by the end of Saturday, Nisan 17. This model not only harmonizes with the Gospel record in its plainest sense, including the “three days and three nights” prophecy, but also fulfills Old Testament scripture with remarkable precision.

Here I lay out the evidence for a Wednesday, Nisan 14 crucifixion https://www.rebuildspirit.com/post/after-three-days-before-corruption-reclaiming-the-biblical-resurrection-timeline

Eusebius’ Testimony: “Almost Four Years”

In his Ecclesiastical History, Eusebius analyzes the Gospel chronology and concludes that Christ’s public ministry spanned “not quite four years.” He bases this on the observation that Jesus’ ministry began when Annas was high priest and ended when Caiaphas was high priest – a period bridged by a series of interim high priests. Josephus records that the Roman governor Valerius Gratus deposed Annas and appointed a rapid succession of high priests – Ishmael, Eleazar, Simon, and finally Joseph Caiaphas. Since these four each served about a year before Caiaphas, Eusebius infers that the interval between Annas and Caiaphas was roughly 3½ to 4 years. Eusebius, after comparing the succession of high priests with the Gospel record, concludes that the public ministry of Jesus spanned close to four years in total. In his view, it was not a single year, nor merely two or three, but extended through nearly four Passovers before the crucifixion.

This early Christian calculation aligns with the Gospel of John, which mentions multiple Passovers during Jesus’ ministry. John explicitly notes at least three Passover feasts: one at the beginning (when Jesus cleanses the Temple), a second during the miraculous feeding in Galilee, and a final Passover at the crucifixion. John 5:1 also describes an unnamed feast (likely a Passover or another festival) that Jesus attended in Jerusalem. By contrast, the Synoptic Gospels focus on the final year, so without John it might appear Jesus ministered only about one year. Eusebius, however, explicitly rejects a one-year ministry and upholds “almost four years” based on John’s narrative. Earlier fathers like Clement of Alexandria and Origen had also tied a 3½ year ministry to Daniel’s prophecies.

The Date of the Crucifixion in AD 34

If Jesus was baptized and began ministering in AD 30 (when He was “about 30 years old”), adding roughly 3½ years lands us in AD 34 for the Passion. Is there evidence that Nisan 14 (the Passover preparation day) fell on a Wednesday that year?

Astronomical calculations of the ancient Jewish calendar suggest yes. Reconstructions show Nisan 1 of AD 34 began in early April, which means Nisan 14 corresponded to Wednesday, April 24; AD 34 (Julian calendar). Early Christian writers were aware that AD 34 was within Pontius Pilate’s term as governor (AD 26–36) and within the long high-priesthood of Caiaphas (appointed by Gratus and not deposed until AD 37), so the year fits the historical context. There is no conflict with known history in placing the crucifixion in 34: Pilate and Caiaphas were still in power, and as per Eusebius’ analysis, the timeline from Tiberius’ 15th year (Luke 3:1) to AD 34 is reasonable.

It’s worth noting that modern scholars more often favor AD 30 or 33 for the crucifixion; however, those scenarios typically assume a ministry of 1 to 3 years. The AD 34 Wednesday model, unlike the more familiar AD 30 or AD 33 proposals, embraces the nearly four-year ministry recorded in John’s Gospel and confirmed by Eusebius.

Another remarkable confirmation of the AD 34 Wednesday crucifixion comes from the prophecy in Daniel 9:24–27, the famous passage of the “seventy weeks.” In this vision, the angel Gabriel declares that seventy weeks of years have been appointed for the Messiah to appear, to atone for sin, and to bring everlasting righteousness. Within this grand prophetic framework, the angel adds a striking detail: in the final week of years, the Messiah would be “cut off in the midst of the week.” This phrase has long been seen by both Jewish and Christian interpreters as pointing to a decisive and climactic event in the history of redemption.

The significance of this expression unfolds on two interconnected levels. First, it refers to a prophetic week of years. Half of seven years is three and a half, and the prophecy implies that the Messiah would be cut off after a ministry lasting about three and a half years. This aligns perfectly with the chronology we find in the Gospel of John and with the testimony of early writers like Eusebius, who recognized that Christ’s public work spanned nearly four Passovers. In other words, the duration of Jesus’ ministry itself; not a single year, but about three and a half years; is already a fulfillment of Daniel’s timetable. Jesus’ death did not come randomly, but exactly at the point predicted centuries earlier: in the “midst” of the prophetic week.

Yet the prophecy does not only operate on the symbolic level of years; it also corresponds, I would argue, to the literal calendar week in which Jesus died. The crucifixion took place on a Wednesday; the very middle of the seven-day week. Just as Daniel’s prophecy pointed to a ministry that would be cut off at the midpoint of a symbolic seven-year cycle, so too the historical reality of Christ’s death falls squarely in the middle of the actual week, with three days before and three days after. This remarkable convergence of symbolic time and literal time underscores the precision of God’s design.

At that moment; both in prophetic years and in the flow of the calendar; Jesus was “cut off” and “put an end to sacrifice and offering.” From the perspective of heaven, the Temple sacrifices no longer held efficacy after the Lamb of God was slain. What had been foreshadowed in types and rituals reached its fulfillment, and the shadows lost their power in the presence of the reality. The crucifixion, therefore, is the midpoint of the prophetic final week and also the midpoint of the literal week of days, where divine symbolism and human history meet in perfect harmony.

Some will point out that astronomical tables place Nisan 14 of AD 34 on Tuesday April 23  in the Julian calendar. This is correct if one assumes the earliest possible visibility of the new crescent moon and no variation in how the month was declared. But the Jewish calendar in the first century was not a fixed mathematical system; it was observational, based on eyewitness reports of the moon, and could shift by a day or two depending on visibility. If weather, dust, or other conditions delayed the official sighting of the crescent, then the Sanhedrin would not have declared Nisan 1 until April 11 or 12. That simple delay pushes Nisan 14 forward to April 24 And because Jewish days ran from sunset to sunset, the daytime hours of Wednesday, April 24 could indeed be reckoned as Nisan 14.

Thus, both history and astronomy leave open the possibility of a Wednesday Passover. And this alignment does more than solve a calendrical puzzle: it harmonizes with Daniel’s prophecy of being “cut off in the midst of the week,” with the sequence of multiple Passovers recorded in John’s Gospel, and with the testimony of Eusebius that Christ’s ministry lasted nearly four years.

Chronological Timeline of Christ’s Ministry (AD 29–34)

Late AD 29 – AD 30 (Tiberius’ 15th year): John the Baptist begins preaching. Jesus is baptized in the Jordan, “about 30 years old.” Jesus spends 40 days in the wilderness, then starts gathering disciples. The first Passover of Jesus’ ministry occurs in spring AD 30: Jesus goes to Jerusalem, cleanses the Temple, and performs signs.

AD 30–31: Early Judean ministry, then Jesus returns to Galilee. John 5:1 describes “a feast of the Jews” where Jesus heals a lame man at Bethesda. Many scholars think this refers to Passover of AD 31, which would be Passover #2.

Passover #3 – Spring AD 32: John 6:4 notes that “the Passover… was near” during the feeding of the 5,000. Later in AD 32, Jesus attends the autumn Feast of Tabernacles in Jerusalem and the Feast of Dedication in winter AD 32/33.

Final Passover #4 – Spring AD 34: Jesus comes to Bethany six days before Passover. The next day, Mary anoints Him; He enters Jerusalem in the Triumphal Entry. He teaches in the Temple, debates leaders, and prophesies on the Mount of Olives. On Tuesday evening (beginning of Nisan 14), Jesus eats the Last Supper with His disciples and is arrested. Wednesday daytime, Nisan 14 (April 25, 34): Jesus is tried by Pilate in the morning and crucified by midday. He dies around 3 p.m. and is buried before sunset.

Thursday Nisan 15, AD 34: Passover Day (first day of Unleavened Bread, a holy Sabbath). Jesus’ body lies in the tomb.

Friday Nisan 16: Jesus still in the tomb. The women buy and prepare spices.

Saturday Nisan 17: Weekly Sabbath. Jesus rises from the dead sometime before dusk, completing three days and nights.

Sunday Nisan 18 (April 28, 34): Before dawn, women come to the tomb and find it empty – Jesus had already risen.

The case for a nearly four-year ministry and a Wednesday crucifixion in AD 34 is compelling because it draws together multiple strands of evidence into a single, coherent picture. John’s Gospel explicitly records several Passovers and other festivals, which already requires a ministry longer than a single year. Luke strengthens this by anchoring the beginning of Jesus’ work to the fifteenth year of Tiberius, around AD 29, and noting that Jesus was “about thirty years old” at the time. When this is followed through chronologically, the Wednesday–Saturday framework of AD 34 satisfies every statement Jesus made concerning His death and resurrection, whereas the traditional Friday–Sunday scheme forces some sayings into non-literal interpretations.

This picture is further supported by the testimony of the early church. Writers such as Eusebius preserved the understanding of a ministry lasting around three and a half years, directly connecting it to Daniel’s prophecy. Eusebius also leaned on Josephus’ record of the high priests to correlate the Gospel events with historical succession, showing the early Christians’ concern for accuracy.

Prophecy itself confirms the same pattern. Daniel 9 foretold that Messiah would be “cut off” in the midst of the week, and Jesus’ 3½-year ministry, ending in a mid-week crucifixion, fits that prediction with striking precision.

This framework allows every detail of the Gospel accounts to be true in a straightforward sense. It shows Jesus as the Lamb of God who died at the appointed time, in exact concert with Israel’s Passover ritual. It shows that the sign of Jonah was a literal prophecy that Jesus fulfilled. And it highlights God’s providence in history: the long-expected Messiah was “cut off” right on schedule – in the middle of Daniel’s 70th week, both figuratively and literally.

Christ’s ministry and Passion were not random events but a divinely orchestrated fulfillment of prophecy down to the very day. The unified testimony of Scripture, Eusebius, Josephus, and the rhythms of the Jewish calendar all point to that grand culmination in the spring of AD 34, when the Son of God gave His life for the world and rose again in victory – right on time.

But such a timeline would not suit those whose loyalties leaned more toward sun worship than toward the testimony of Scripture. For their scheme, the entire sequence had to be reshaped: the Triumphal Entry was shifted to a Sunday, creating the invention of “Palm Sunday,” rather than recognizing that Christ presented Himself in the Temple on the 10th of Nisan, which fell on a Friday. By the time the sun had set that evening, the Sabbath had already begun — so Christ’s act of offering Himself took place as the holy day was dawning, a deliberate alignment with His identity as the Lord of the Sabbath.

This truth was replaced by a system that instead highlights the Sunday resurrection, aligning the story with the solar logos — the sun-centered worship of the ancient world — rather than the Divine Logos revealed in Christ, who sanctified the Sabbath from creation itself.

Yet the witness of the Holy Spirit, once given to the apostles as recorded in Scripture, does not bend to human invention. God is not a liar, nor does He alter His revelation to accommodate men’s pursuit of wealth, power, or syncretism. What He ordained in Christ is unshakable: the Lamb presented on the 10th of Nisan, slain on the 14th, and raised on the 17th. These dates are not arbitrary; they are woven into prophecy, confirmed in history, and sealed by the Spirit. Unlike the mutable traditions of men, they stand as the eternal testimony of the God who does not change.

Sources

• Eusebius of Caesarea, Ecclesiastical History, Book I

• Flavius Josephus, Antiquities of the Jews, Book 18

• The Gospel of John (chapters 2, 5, 6, 11–13, 19)

• The Synoptic Gospels (Passion narratives in Matthew, Mark, Luke)

• Daniel 9:24–27

• Astronomical and Jewish calendar reconstructions (NASA, U.S. Naval Observatory)

• Early Christian commentary on Daniel’s prophecy and the length of Jesus’ ministry