Weird Christians

My mom sent me a video of athletes at the Olympic Village, circled around a piano, singing praise. 

It was beautiful.

But as people passed by, throwing them glances, I couldn't help but think that it was also weird.

And that was even more beautiful.

Growing up, there was this subset of Christianity obsessed with marketability. How do we get people through the door? 

Churches prioritized sound systems, concert atmosphere, and cultural engagement to attract people to the gospel. And by culture engagement I don't mean engaging with those in the culture; instead, we were driven by the desire to seem cool, hip, relatable. We wanted to show people that we also liked and participated in the things of the culture so that they wouldn't be turned away for superficial reasons. We wore ripped jeans and listened to secular music and whatever else we thought people might like, but we didn't do it because we liked those things. We were afraid of being seen as weird. Afraid that a different style of dress or too Jesus-y of music would turn people away. We trusted our ability to fit in with the culture as more of an incentive to the gospel than the attractiveness of Jesus.

This subset I grew up around was still interested in being set apart, but in ways that tended to elevate us to the outside world. Like we'll show you that we're just like you, trendy and fun to be with, and then we'll hit you with this extra special something called Jesus. The thing that takes our life to the next level. We'd use our cultural aptitude to sneakily get people the gospel. To draw them in so that God could strike.

Yes, of course, God uses it all. He moves in the person there on a Sunday morning pursuing truth and the person there on a Sunday morning pursuing a romantic crush. But for too much of my life, the church has tried to be the latter. 

To become desirable to the world so that the world could see how desirable Christ is. To hold to our values but also to be cautious of seeming unrelatable for fear of losing the world.

But Jesus can stand on His own.

We don't need to appear like the world on the surface for people to want to get to know Jesus beneath the surface. It's okay for us to want to do Jesus-y things that those who don't know Him can't relate too. Yes, there's a level of ministering to others, but we shouldn't be afraid of being seen as weird because we love Jesus. 

Christians have a joy that appeals to the world, but it's not up to us to make that joy seem appealing. To souls thirsting for Jesus, God will lead them in. And to those who see us as weird or embarrassing or whatever it may be for displaying Him, even that can plant seeds for later. 

It's so refreshing to see Christians putting away their fears of being perceived as other, putting away their need to be desirable for Jesus's sake, and letting their love pour out. Not holding back their praise or their conviction but letting His love pour out.

We don't need to be afraid that the world will judge us based on appearances. We don't need to worry that our authentic love for Christ will turn them away from seeking Him. The longing that drives our weirdness is a longing that the world feels too, and even if they don't recognize that now, God can use it.

We don't need to be afraid of being bold in our faith. Of living our lives with Jesus on display. Of being visible in our love for Jesus to the world. We don't need to be attractive to the world because Jesus is already more attractive than anything we can offer. And we never know when He'll shift a heart from judging our weirdness to craving it. It's all on Him. Let's put Him on display in us without fear for how the world will perceive the testimony of our faith.

Love will always have an element of weirdness to those who haven't experienced it, but it's the love, not the popularity, not the resources, not the accessibility, not the cool factor that make people crave it. He is enough.