Jesus was a weirdo.
Does that sound, if not blasphemous, at least like an inappropriate thing to say about the Son of God?
When I say Jesus was weird, I don’t mean weird like Matthew Sommers, the kid in my elementary school who gained attention by eating the inedible: paper, pencils, glue, and anything else that got a reaction from our teachers. The dictionary defines weird as “odd or unusual” so yeah, I stand by my statement. Jesus was weird. He didn’t abide by the cultural norms. He didn’t conform to people’s expectations.
Jesus spent time with prostitutes, touched lepers, rebuked religious leaders, chose singleness in a culture that all but idolized marriage, and refused to defend himself before the authorities even when his life was at stake. Not weird enough for you? He cast out demons, raised the dead, and fasted forty days before taking on the devil mano-a-demono.
The early Christians embraced this weirdness. They were promiscuous with their money and chaste with their bodies. They refused to abort their babies. They didn’t just care for their sick and poor but also the pagans’. They chose to suffer and die rather than deny their Lord.
I find all this convicting because I try to live out my faith in the least weird way possible. I don’t raise my hands in worship because that’s weird. I don’t pray for healing because I don’t want to get people hopes up when I’ve already decided God isn’t going to heal them. When is the last time you fasted beyond missing your afternoon snack, much less prayed against demonic forces?
No one wants to be like those Christians. We drink beer, cuss, laugh at tasteless jokes, watch Game of Thrones, go on cool vacations, prioritize our kids’ sports over Sunday worship all in a quest to prove that we fit in. We’re just like everyone else. We’re not weird.
There was even a nationwide movement of churches dedicated to ridding Christianity of its weirdness to make the faith more attractive. The seeker church model, popular in the 80s and 90s, substituted contemporary songs for worship and TED style talks for biblical preaching with the goal of making Christianity more amenable to the outsider.
But what if removing the mystery is exactly the wrong way to reach a culture craving something more than the comfort of economic wealth and the convenience afforded by technology?
Joe Rogan’s spiritual interest was piqued, not by logical arguments, but by the story of Wes Huff’s healing of a childhood disease. That story opened the door for more conventional evidence for the Christian faith. And maybe it’s the weirdness of medieval architecture or the mystery of the sacraments or the strangeness of the Latin Mass combined with historical rootedness that some in Gen Z find attractive about Catholic and Orthodox churches.
Embracing the Weirdness
In the world’s estimation, Christians do weird things: They move their families to a new culture thousands of miles from home to share the gospel. They adopt children when they already have a full house. They forfeit jobs that require them to sacrifice their integrity. They live below their means so they can be generous to others. They forgive when they’ve been hurt.
The Crossing’s weirdness has piqued people’s spiritual interest far more than trying to be the cool church ever could. It’s weird to pay off medical debt for people in financial trouble you haven’t met and will never know. It’s weird to pay off the utility debt of everyone in your community who was on the city’s utility disconnect list during Covid. It’s a lot less weird to only pay off the debts of the deserving—whoever they are. It’s weird to genuinely welcome people with disabilities into our church. What’s normal is to say that we’re sorry, we’d like to help, but their needs are too great. It’s weird to have multiracial leadership and risk potential conflicting perspectives. It’s weird to open the building to our community without charge. Isn’t that a good way to make some money and offset costs? It’s weird to give up a beautiful Saturday in the spring and serve your city with For Columbia. Isn’t this what our tax dollars should pay for? But being a weird church has probably opened more skeptical hearts than traditional outreach.
Will You Be Weird?
It’s impossible to follow Jesus and be considered normal. His kingdom’s values don’t jive with our culture’s values. He redefines the blessed life, he says we can’t use our power on behalf ourselves, and, of course, he proclaims that the first will be last and the last first, that the greatest will be the servant.
Are you willing to be the weird family that other parents are upset with because your kid misses the tournament rather than missing worship? Are you willing to be the weird one who raises your hands in worship because you know that we worship with our whole being?
To paraphrase Jesus, “If the world thinks you’re weird, keep in mind they thought I was weird first (John 15:18).”
Will you embrace the weirdness this spring? Join other Christian churches throughout mid-Missouri with For Columbia to serve individuals, non-profit organizations, and other public venues in an annual city-wide day of service.
