A major point of my sermon yesterday was to follow Hannah’s example of being so devoted to God that other people might think we are crazy. While this point might sound uncomfortable, I think Christianity in the 21st century could use a dose of “strangeness.” Tragically, Christians often behave no differently that how our world operates.

One of my favorite books I read in seminary was A Peculiar People by Rodney Clapp. The title is based off 1 Peter 2:9 (“But you are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a peculiar people…”). This book taught me the importance of always seeking to be peculiar in how I live my faith, as well as encouraging congregations to do the same. Following Jesus always looks strange compared to the surrounding culture. Here’s how the book opens, giving an illustration on how we often treat Christianity like a cruise ship chaplain:

Priest and spiritual writer Henri Nouwen tells a significant story about what it means to be a Christian amid the late twentieth-century ruins of Christendom. Years ago, Nouwen was chaplain of a Holland-American cruise line. He stood one day on the bridge of a Dutch ship making its was though a thick fog into the port of Rotterdam. “The fog was so thick, in fact, that the steersman could not even see the bow of the ship. The captain, carefully listening to a radar station operator who was explaining his position between the other ships, walked nervously up and down the bridge.”

In the process of his nervous pacing, the captain collided with the ship’s chaplain. Adrift in anxiety as well as fog, the captain cursed the chaplain and told him to stay out of the way. “But,” says Nouwen, “When I was ready to run away, filled with feelings for incompetence and guilt, he came back and said: ‘Why don’t you just stay around. This might be the only time I need you.’”

Musing, Nouwen elaborates on how the experience is all too typical of ministerial—and, I would add, lay Christians—frustrations, on or off an ocean liner.

There was a time, not too long ago, when [Christians] felt like captains running our own ships, with a great sense of power and self-confidence. Now we are stranding in the way. That is our lonely position. We are powerless, on the side, not taken very seriously when the weather is fine.

So here stands the Christian, chaplain on the ship with a destination sure and true, even if the surrounding fog sometimes gets pretty dense. The captain, the real mover and shaker in our world, wants the Christian out of the way. Let him, let her, goof off with the deckhands. Let the Christian divert and console these and other inconsequential people. And maybe, in a tight spot, let the Christian launch some prayers or perform some other hocus-pocus which at least will have the effect of calming and keeping the masses under control. But for crying out loud, keep the Christian off the bridge, out of the map room, away from the wheel. And when the ship has docked, don’t let the religious fanatic in the corporate boardroom or the congressional chamber. There’s work to be done in the real world.

I think this metaphor is very revealing. Many times we grow accustomed to our surroundings, mirroring the sinfulness we see in the world. Following God takes the backseat, in exchange for other things like popularity, social connections, Facebook, money, politics, and so forth. Christianity is about as useful as a cruise ship chaplain… Surely other things are more important in life than all this God-stuff!

Instead of following the example of Hannah in 1 Samuel for our sermon and dedicating children to the Lord, we frequently dedicate children to ourselves, our family reputation, worldly success, or a sports league. We forget that the best thing a Christian parent could ever share with a child is the love of Jesus. Everything else ought to be secondary, but we mess up the order.

Instead of genuinely asking ourselves what would Jesus do in a situation, we follow our gut reactions, cussing out the person who insults us, hitting back harder if we are attacked, and responding with negativity when others are pessimistic about the world around us. We end up no better than non-Christians.

Instead of pursuing Christlike values such as self-sacrifice, love, and generosity, we tend to promote ourselves, put others down, and hoard resources. Jesus clearly calls us to be strange in our dealings, always following in his footsteps. Yet sometimes we assume Jesus shouldn’t be taken too seriously, or that Jesus was just speaking figuratively.

If you ask me, I think we all could use a dose of peculiarity. Perhaps if other people start to think that we are crazy, maybe that’s the best evidence to show we are actually following Jesus.

I’ve preached before many times about how our world is particularly unkind towards women. This applies for sermons on issues like lust and purity, where our culture regularly tolerates objectification and assault. This observation also applies for sermons on gifts of the Holy Spirit, as many Christian denominations today do not believe women can lead others. (For the record, Methodists believe God calls absolutely everyone!).

The same unfortunate, sexist reality was also the case in biblical times. Adam Hamilton, a UMC pastor, once remarked on how his young daughter was reading bible stories at a young age. She had two questions after reading stories from books like Genesis: “Dad, why is everyone so mean to each other?” and “Why don’t many of the women have names?” In scripture we often find profound and shocking examples of our own human brokenness. People are mean, and we struggle with the sin of sexism.

Back in the time of Esther, women did not have much power at all. There have undoubtedly been many queens throughout ancient history, but chances are if you weren’t a member of the royal court, as a woman you had little say over your life trajectory. You were property. People valued you for the potential to bear children. Husbands, relatives, or masters basically owned you. (As a side note, this cultural observation is why I think the bible itself is so revolutionary. God actually uses women to accomplish greater purposes of salvation… Think Sarah, Hannah, Deborah, Esther, and Mary, just to name a few!).

We even find examples of oppression with the royal class of women in this book, too, particularly Vashti and Esther. They lived in severely broken circumstances.

Vashti is a fascinating minor character in Esther. Sometimes people dismiss Vashti, arguing that she is selfish or hopelessly disobedient. I think there’s more to her character than these shallow dismissals. The story of Esther begins with King Xerxes wanting to parade his wife Vashti before a bunch of drunken royal officials. Vashti stands up for herself and refuses to comply. She rejects the oppressive customs of the day and openly defies King Xerxes’ orders. Unfortunately for her, this leads to Xerxes deciding to choose a new queen, setting the plot of Esther into motion.

Queen Esther, on the other hand, takes a different approach. She gradually gains the king’s favor. She decides to work within the royal system and hopefully forge a better outcome. Along with the help of Mordecai, she uses the mechanisms of power to help save the Jews. She gains the trust of an unstable king and uses this newfound power to help other people.

These are two greatly different approaches to lead and fight against injustice. Vashti was much more confrontational and rejected mistreatment outright. Esther tolerated mistreatment to some degree, using the political system to help others in the bigger picture.

Which way is better… Vashti or Esther? I’m not exactly sure there’s an easy answer to this question. Either might be appropriate, depending on the circumstances.

When it comes to sinfulness itself, perhaps we could learn a thing or two from Vashti: Don’t tolerate it one bit! Too often we decide to simply live with sin in our life, whether that be lust, greed, dishonesty, violence, or materialism. We may struggle with compromising our values and ignoring sin. Truth be told, we are better off simply getting up and walking away, instead of trying to play a game with evil.

And then there are other cases where helping other people involves a long, complex process, just like Esther’s story. Esther saw the importance of the bigger picture, and believed that she could create a better outcome by working through the systems of power.

We sometimes forget about Queen Vashti because she isn’t exactly a main character in the story. But there’s still a lesson to be learned, even from minor characters that might apply to our lives today.

Our conception of things often changes over time. What we assume today might not be the case back in biblical times! Believe it or not, sleep is a perfect example of this kind of historical-cultural issue.

Nowadays, we usually view sleep as a means to an end. We sleep in order to feel rested for work the following day. If we don’t get sleep, then that throws off the balance of our life. We yearn for more hours in the day, hoping to squeeze in enough hours of rest to offset busy schedules.

In the ancient world, however, sleep was not always the most “restful” sort of idea. In Greek mythology thousands of years ago, the god Hypnos was a devious sort of figure (as you can guess, we get the word hypnotize from him!). Hypnos would allegedly lure humans and gods with sleep, eventually overpowering them. His brother was Thanatos, or the Greek god of death. In fact, in writings like Homer’s Iliad, it is Hypnos who ushers people into the underworld. So in the ancient world, sleep isn’t exactly the most calming or nourishing thing. Sleep could actually lead you to death!

With these ancient traditions, many people assumed that daytime was the safest possible period of the day. Night was filled with uncertainty. You literally cannot see the in the darkness. Betrayal, deceit, and disaster can happen at night. And death can come, too–think of someone who falls asleep but doesn’t wake up the following morning.

So back in biblical times, sleep often was connected to death. People did not understand the science behind sleeping or death itself, so many noted the similarities to dying as well as falling asleep. In 1 Thessalonians 4:13, Paul refers to the dead as “those who have fallen asleep.” This clearly reflects the logic of the day (and Paul offers a profound, countercultural message of hope regarding death–but that’s another blog post for another day!).

With all this said, Acts 20 has an interesting meaning when it comes to sleep and darkness. Many people assume that God cannot work in the darkness. After all, we find many examples of how God is associated with light, while evil is associated with darkness.

But the author of Acts radically subverts this assumption. God is not limited to the daytime. In fact, the apostles are doing their work in the middle of the night! God is actually using the darkness to bring about light. Paul preaches all through the night, and even whens someone falls asleep, falls, and dies, Paul raises the young boy back to life.

For years, many assumed that daytime was only associated with God’s work. Truth be told, we also have this assumption, too. We frequently think God cannot work in a certain situation. We write off other people as “hopeless” or “too far gone.” We don’t think that hope could ever grow in darkness.

That’s not what we find in scripture. Even though you walk through the darkest valleys, God is with you. You don’t have to be afraid. This passage teaches us that God can and will work, even in moments of utter darkness.