I read a great article in the Huffington Post by Joe Peacock concerning a young man who had been profoundly affected by a very short exchange with a girl from his high school. In his own words, it went like this: “I asked her to the spring dance,” he said. “Then she called me lame and said, ‘That’s why you don’t have any friends. Because you’re weird.’”
Peacock continues, “There are thousands — no, hundreds of thousands — of us. All weird. All strange. All over, everywhere. We all went to school and hated everyone because they didn’t understand us. We dealt with the bullying and the isolation and the feeling that we were the weird ones. You want to know what’s weird? Spending hundreds of dollars on clothes and shoes and purses that everyone else thinks is cool. Spending hours of your life doing things that everyone else is doing because it’s cool. Liking the bands that everyone else likes because you’re a loser if you don’t.”
For most of us, being labeled weird is not a desirable thing. So we do our best to fit in and be “normal,” perfecting the art of pretending to be someone we’re not. It’s a tiresome exercise, but it’s better than shame, embarrassment and loneliness.
By His grace, God provides us with a solution to this awful dilemma – we are rescued from this wearying existence by Jesus Christ, who accepts us as we are, but changes us so completely that we are new creations. No more pretending, and no more shame. We are completely and totally forgiven and free – but there’s a catch.
We’re still weird.
Exodus 19:5, Deuteronomy 14:2, and 1 Peter 2:9 all identify God’s people as “peculiar.” I love this word, because it means Christians are set apart, unique…weird. For many, this kind of weird is far different and a lot better than the other kind. There’s joy and comfort and genuine relationships with other “weirdos” who follow Christ. When we’re with them on Sundays and in small groups and on mission trips, things can actually feel, well, normal.
Then we go to work on Monday, or we listen to the news, or have a difficult conversation with an unbelieving family member – and we’re weird again. Uncomfortably weird – just like we felt before we trusted Christ. We don’t like this feeling, so we fall back into old patterns – we drop the God talk and the firm convictions and the belief that we can do all things through Christ who strengthens us – and we pretend we’re not weird.
What’s it take to break this cycle? In Matthew chapter 6, Jesus makes the answer very clear: You must choose who you master will be – and you can only choose one. If your master is fitting in, or approval, or fear, then you will never be free. If your master is God, you may be weird, but you will enjoy life to the fullest.


