One of the first things I noticed when I moved from Canada to the United States was how obvious it was that I’m not from here. I was an outsider walking in unfamiliar territory. After nearly a decade, I still feel that way.
I’m not alone in this. Many Christians in the United States have a growing sense of being on society’s margins. They no longer recognize the world around them. They feel a tension they’re desperate to relieve but struggle to do it in ways that reflect their faith in Christ.
In Joyful Outsiders: Six Ways to Live like Jesus in a Disorienting Culture, Patrick Miller and Keith Simon, both pastors at The Crossing in Missouri, encourage readers to embrace the tension of living as people God has called to simultaneously resist and cultivate the world around them. Their book offers a roadmap for faithfulness as we joyfully strive for both those goals.
Exiles Without Compromise
Books that talk about Christians as outsiders often reflect a persecution complex. They assume our sense of alienation from this world is because it has become hostile to our faith, as if there was a time when the culture genuinely welcomed it. But Christianity has always been at odds with the world, to the degree that even the Bible describes us as “exiles” (1 Pet. 1:1), “sojourners” (2:11), and “strangers . . . on the earth” (Heb. 11:13).
But why? It’s not as though we (typically) speak a wholly different language, wear radically different clothing, or behave in conspicuously unusual ways (even if some of what we say and do seems peculiar). Our otherness has to do with our loyalties.
We belong to Jesus. We’re citizens of another kingdom (Phil. 3:20) and representatives of another king (2 Cor. 5:20). So, as Miller and Simon argue, we’re outsiders because of our “fundamental identity as followers of Jesus” (18). We’re exiles living in a metaphorical Babylon, placed here to seek the good of a world to which we don’t entirely belong (Jer. 29:5–7).
We’re exiles living in a metaphorical Babylon, placed here to seek the good of a world to which we don’t entirely belong.
We can’t properly address the tension we feel without knowing its source. This knowledge helps us guard against the temptation to compromise our witness, something the world spends time and energy encouraging us to do. Our social media timelines, politicians, pundits, podcasters, and the latest news stories—all scream the same messages daily: Be anxious. Be angry. Be afraid.
The unrelenting assault on our souls leads so many to do exactly that, which only perpetuates the problem. The more we live in fear and anxiety, the more frustrated—and the more prone to compromise—we become. We become like salt that has lost its taste, lights hidden under baskets (Matt. 5:13–16)—useless and ineffectual, incapable of fulfilling our calling in the world.
Cultivate the Common Good
Many Christians have celebrated those who’ve resisted corrosive cultural tides in seemingly minor ways (e.g., not using preferred pronouns), potentially dangerous ways (e.g., objecting to biological men competing in women’s sports), and profoundly radical ways (e.g., questioning cross-sex hormone treatment for minors). And that resistance is good. Many risked of their reputation, relationships, and livelihood. Yet sometimes there’s a tendency to equate faithfulness to resistance alone.
But faithfulness requires more. Miller and Simon call us to cultivate our distinctiveness, channeling it into seeking the good of those around us. As Christians, we’re to be people who strive to lead “seamless lives of devotion in all things” (206). We’re meant to live with conspicuous integrity—not a showy false front but a genuine reflection of Christ through how we think, speak, and act.
There’s more than one way to cultivate the culture for the common good. Miller and Simon identify six categorical roles that individual Christians can fill. Some of us are trainers who channel our joy in spiritual disciplines to help Christians delight in the ordinary means of grace. Others, having earned positions of influence in society, are advisors who use that influence to resist evil and cultivate good. Others still are builders, artists, ambassadors, and protestors. Whichever way we’re gifted, no role is greater than another (see 1 Cor. 12:12–26). Each role is worth celebrating as we resist and cultivate within a hostile world. But we’ve got to both resist and cultivate, especially as the cultural winds shift.
There’s no sphere of life where a faithful Christian can’t be an influence for good.
Public sentiment is shifting on some of the most obvious cultural challenges; extreme policies are being walked back. Most Christians (I hope) agree such changes are good. Yet we must avoid naive assumptions about the causes of these social changes: They aren’t all driven by consistent Christian convictions. Meanwhile, as we resist new temptations to compromise, we need to cultivate godly compassion toward those who consider themselves our ideological enemies (Matt. 5:44). That’s what it looks like to live as joyful outsiders.
Build as Outsiders
No matter which way the cultural winds blow, we should still feel like outsiders. We still are. Christians always have been. It’s the life Jesus promised us when he said, “In the world you will have tribulation.” But he didn’t say this to discourage us. He gave us hope. “Take heart,” Jesus said, “I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).
In light of that hope, Joyful Outsiders casts a positive vision. Miller and Simon remind us, “In Jesus, there is a common life to be lived for the common good . . . until he returns” (207). They encourage us to “receive and experience the joy of God in exile.” In doing so, we “can set aside fear and muster the courage to take the next right step” (206). And that will always be hard.
Miller and Simon offer an invitation to build in a world that specializes in tearing down. They remind us there’s more than one way to be faithful as a Christian in this world. That’s why Joyful Outsiders is a valuable roadmap for living with seamless devotion to Christ in an ever-changing culture.
The Gospel Coalition