Keep Christianity Weird

TL;DR Churches shouldn’t try to make Christianity normal. Our beliefs are meant to be strange—rooted in a faith that believes God acts in the world—but our institutions should be healthy, hospitable, and well-run. Relevance doesn’t come from chasing culture; it comes from caring enough to do the basics well and expecting real commitment.

Keep Christianity Weird

Christianity was never meant to blend in. It’s a faith built on paradoxes: life through death, power in weakness, hope in a crucified Messiah. Yet today, many churches seem desperate to appear normal—less strange, less demanding, more marketable. In trying to fit in, we’ve forgotten that the gospel itself is supposed to stand out.

Andrew Root has observed that evangelicals often make Christianity about self-actualization and personal development, while progressives make it about social justice. Both, he says, end up as different versions of Christian Smith’s moralistic therapeutic deism — the idea that “God is there to help me become a good person,” however one defines good.

It’s Christianity as self-help — whether for your soul or for society.

But the Christian story is stranger than that.

We need to Keep Christianity weird — but in the right ways.

Our beliefs should be weird. Jason Micheli captured the absolute weirdness of Christianity in his recent Mockingbird piece, telling an apparent true story about an exorcism. Picking up the story in the midst of the action, he shares:

They both nodded. They looked relieved I didn’t immediately conclude that they were crazy. “You still believe in that sort of stuff?” Eric asked, “I’m actually sort of surprised. Most of the Christians I know seem pretty secular.”

“You must know a lot of preachers,” I muttered. He laughed and looked at me to see if I was serious.

“I think the challenge of being a Christian today,” I said, “is to appear as strange to our world as the first Christians appeared to their world” (my emphasis).

“But you really believe in evil spirits?” his wife asked.

“Karl Barth called demons ‘Exponents of Falsehood.’” I said.

“Karl who?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“But you really do believe in demons?”

I nodded. “Why would I not? According to Christianity, the logic is elegantly simple. There is Evil. And Jesus is not only risen, but he is also indeed God. The reality of the former is an assertion imposed by the fact of the latter.”

There’s no other way to say it. That is weird.

The Problem Isn’t Always the Culture

Sociologist Ryan Burge recently noted that the Presbyterian Church in America (PCA) is seeing small but steady growth because it maintains high expectations and a strong sense of identity. Its message may be weird, but its practices—like follow-up, community systems, and hospitality—are not.

That same point came through in Ben Crosby’s excellent Substack essay on mainline decline. He wrote:

“What if your church’s decline isn’t so much because of vast, tectonic social forces beyond your control, so much as poor preaching, or an unwillingness to evangelize, or the lack of a good visitor follow-up program?”

Too many churches assume, echoing what I wrote previously, that ‘in our anti-institutional age, churches have largely removed barriers to participation, leading to less meaning, their struggles are caused by forces beyond their control — cultural secularization, political polarization, demographic shifts — when in reality, much of the problem comes down to poor programming. Being relevant, in the truest sense, means being responsive to the actual people God has placed in front of us. It means well-designed ministries, thoughtful preaching, genuine welcome, and follow-through that matches our theology. Relevance isn’t about trend-chasing or watering down belief; it’s about caring enough to do the basics well.

As I wrote in a previous Substack, “In our anti-institutional age, churches—both conservative, progressive, and in-between—have largely removed barriers to participation. Interestingly, in this same period, overall church attendance has continued to decline.” We thought inclusivity alone would lead to growth, but inclusivity without expectation communicates that showing up doesn’t really matter. Healthy institutions don’t just open their doors — they help people find purpose once inside.

Weird Beliefs, Normal Practices

Too often, churches have it reversed: they’re organizationally weird and theologically bland.

Weird like passing a pew pad.
Weird like never following up with guests.
Weird like a broken website or bulletin from 1997.

Instead, be weird like believing Christianity actually matters.
Be weird like expecting God to act.
Be weird like thinking discipleship requires something of us.

Richard Beck puts it this way:

“God is good for you, but that goodness flows out of an attunement with our ontological ground. And attunement is different from affirmation.”

That’s the kind of weirdness the world needs — faith that doesn’t simply affirm us, but transforms us.

When Belonging Has Weight

As I’ve noted before, inclusivity without expectations often communicates that participation doesn’t matter — openness must be matched by purpose if it’s to have meaning.

In our eagerness to seem accessible, churches have often stripped away all expectations. But removing every barrier doesn’t make something meaningful — it makes it optional. As I once wrote, “Having some amount of norms or expectations actually communicates that the gathering matters — that it’s worth one’s time and attention.”

Healthy communities ask something of people. Commitment is what gives belonging weight. Because God’s invitation is always open, but it still asks us to show up.

We need to Keep Christianity weird — but in the right ways.

Why we're tempted to - and shouldn't - embrace decline