“You who are called to belong to Jesus Christ… who are loved by God and called to be saints: Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.” Romans 1:6-7
It was 1969. The 5th Dimension, an American pop band, had released its latest album, The Age of Aquarius, which included the chart-topping hit, a medley entitled “Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In.” Tight tops, miniskirts or hot pants, and knee-high slick patent boots (preferably white) were the uniform of the day. At least, that was the featured teen attire in “Seventeen” magazine, which was followed religiously by the cool girls (and every cool girl wanna be) at the high school I attended. All except for me. Oh, I bought the magazine. I pored over every page. The problem was that I was not allowed to wear anything shorter than one inch above my knees.
When the high school choir director announced she was starting a pop group, I was all in. It seemed like the perfect way to fit into the high school culture, because so far, I was a fish out of water. And sure as I was that it would never be, I really wanted to be one of the cool girls.
The cool girls were no taller than 5’5″ to 5’6″, and I was already 5’8.” Cool girls wore size zero or one store-bought clothes. I sewed my own clothes, and none of them were a size zero or one. I was happy if I could stay out of double-digits. Cool girls wore miniskirts and hot pants, but I didn’t because I couldn’t—I was not allowed.
Cool girls had thin lips and perfect complexions—not me. Plump lips and minor breakouts reminded me each time I looked in the mirror – nope, not a cool girl today! No matter how many times I ironed my hair or slept on my face because of the juice-can rollers I used in my hair, I could not achieve the smooth, silky hair of the cool girls. There was nothing “cool girl” about me.
But I could sing.
So when the choir director announced the formation of a “pop choir,” I thought that might be my golden ticket into the “cool girls” club. The rehearsals were going well, and I was excited to perform with the group. Then, the choir director gave us instructions for our choir outfits: a white blouse and a waist-length green vest, a short pleated white miniskirt, and white patent knee-high go-go boots. I was beyond excited. I thought for sure Mom would allow me to wear a miniskirt because that was the official uniform of the pop choir.
I bought the fabric for the skirt. I purchased the knee-high go-go boots and the blouse. The choir director would supply the vests. Then I set about making the skirt.
When my mother saw the miniskirt, she had a meltdown. Then I had a meltdown. I would not be wearing a miniskirt as part of my choir outfit.
I honestly do not remember the specifics of how the skirt length grew. Maybe I’d made the hem extra long so I could let it out and lengthen it, if Mom said, “No!” Maybe I had to buy more fabric and start from scratch. Or perhaps, I sewed a wide band of fabric around the bottom of the skirt to get it to the mom-approved length. In my horror and upset at having to remove the “mini” from my skirt, I blocked those specifics from my mind.
What I do remember is standing on the risers during our debut performance in front of a large crowd of students and parents, wearing a white blouse with a short green vest and a no-longer-a-miniskirt skirt, accompanied by white, shiny knee-high go-go boots that grazed the edge of my hemline. I was beyond mortified. I was certain that every snicker, every hand-covered-whispered comment, and every hint of laughter was directed at me.
I remember singing with tears in my eyes, “It is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius….” By the time we reached “Let the Sunshine,” I could barely choke out the words, much less get the tune right. There was not a hint of sunshine in my voice.
If I had any question whether I might be able to fit in, I got my answer that evening. I did not and could not fit in. Certainly not with the cool girls—not even with the uncool girls, I did not fit in. I did not belong.
It was a rough beginning to my high school years. I dropped out of the pop choir and never again put on the white blouse, the green vest, the knee-high go-go boots, or the almost-knee-length white pleated skirt.
I wanted to belong. With every bit of my fourteen-year-old heart, I longed to fit in.
No matter our age, don’t we all experience those feelings at times?
We desperately want to belong—to be accepted, to fit in, to be part of the group or team. The longing to belong—it’s in each of us. It’s human nature.
Even as Christ-followers, we have an innate desire to be accepted and included. The need for fellowship and community is a God-given desire.
So clearly, the desire is not wrong. The question we must ask ourselves is whose acceptance and approval do we seek?
In the Apostle Peter’s letter to the Christians spread across the Roman provinces, he reminds believers that they are “elect exiles (1 Peter 1:1 ESV).” Other versions translate the phrase as “strangers scattered” (KJV), “pilgrims” (NKJV), “God’s elect exiles” (NIV), “God’s chosen people who are living as foreigners” (NLT), and “those chosen, living as exiles dispersed abroad” (CSB).
No matter which version you may read, the meaning is clear. Christians are strangers living in a strange land. We are not supposed to feel as though we belong. We are not supposed to fit in. And, I was never supposed to become “one of the cool girls.”
Peter’s two epistles encourage believers to find their identity, value, strength, and encouragement in their identity in Christ Jesus, the “Author and Finisher” (Heb. 12:2 KJV) of their faith and in fellowship with other Christ-followers.
The underlying message throughout both of Peter’s books is, “You are citizens of a greater kingdom. You are children of God, and citizens of His royal, eternal kingdom. It is more than you can imagine and far greater than anything this world has to offer. That is who you are. You are beloved members of His family—His people. That’s where you belong and where you find your true home! Quit trying to fit in, be accepted, and belong to a world that rejects God and your loving Savior.”
The Apostle Paul also writes, “Don’t be yoked with unbelievers. Be separate. Righteousness and wickedness don’t have anything in common. How can light have fellowship with darkness?” (2 Corinthians 6:14-18)
Neither apostle is saying that we are to have no contact with unbelievers in this world. Both say that we are to recognize who we are in Christ Jesus. Recognize Whose you are. Find your identity in Christ and your community among the people of God.
If we believe and rest in the understanding that we are chosen children of God, therefore, citizens of a higher and far better kingdom, we can more readily accept and flourish in our current temporary status as pilgrims on a mission for God in a foreign land.
As Paul wrote to Christians in 2 Corinthians, light can’t have “fellowship with darkness,” but we can be shining lights in the darkness, illuminating the way so that others see Christ.
Nor are we to be “yoked” with unbelievers, meaning that we are not to walk in lockstep with unbelievers in the ways of the world.
But we should walk among unbelievers in such a way that our lives and the paths that we take lead others to Christ.
We are strangers living in a strange land. And, we are to be faithful “chosen exiles.” Temporary residents in this fallen world, confident and secure in our identity as citizens of a far better kingdom.
Friend, are you still trying to belong where you were never intended to fit in?
“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you. 1 Peter 1:3-4 ESV