If I called you “peculiar,” chances are that you would be offended.  That is because in our current usage of the word “peculiar,” we mean something that is “odd” or “queer.”  We don’t normally like to be perceived as being odd or queer.

Peter called us a “peculiar people.”  He said, “But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people…”  (1 Peter 2:9).

If you look up the word “peculiar” in the Topical Guide you find a long list of scriptures which includes these thoughts:

“Ye shall be a peculiar treasure unto me.”  (Ex. 19:5).

“Chosen thee to be a special people.”  (Deut. 7:6).

“Chose…you above all.”  (Deut. 10:15).

“A pure people.”  (Titus 2:14 and D&C 100:16).

“A choice and a favored people.”  (2 Ne. 1:19).

“A light unto the Gentiles.”  (D&C 86:11).

“The salt of the earth.”  (D&C 101:39).

As understood in the context of the gospel, “peculiar” means “special,” “favored,” “chosen.”  If, therefore, you were to call me “peculiar,” rather than be offended, I would be complimented.

When I was learning Russian while attending the Defense Language Institute in the U.S. Navy, I recall that one day we were taken to a downtown theater to watch a movie—in Russian—called “Knyaz,” meaning “The Prince.”  It was based on a story by a Russian author about a young prince who was unusually mild-mannered, sensitive, and kind in a harsh and unkind world.  I don’t recall the story, but I recall being very moved, and of leaving the theater in a very contemplative mood.  I wanted to be like the prince.

I attended the movie with my classmates who were a mixture of sailors, soldiers, airmen, and Marines.  They were typical young servicemen:  coarse and profane, but all likeable as individuals.  I got along with all of them, but found other things to do when they got together in groups and when their talk became racy.  I think they all liked me, but they noticed that I didn’t act or talk like the rest.

I had become emotionally wrapped up in the movie.  As I left the theater I wanted to think about the prince, and I didn’t want my mood to be spoiled by profane companionship.  I attempted to separate myself from my friends so that I could think as we walked back to our barracks.  Despite my efforts to be alone, a group of them caught up with me, and began talking about the movie.  They weren’t as moved as I was.  They weren’t moved at all.  The movie hadn’t been realistic.  The prince wasn’t real.  No one could be so kind or be so motivated by pure thoughts and intents, they said.

“Except Kerns,” one said.  “He’s Knyaz!”  General assent went through the group, and I was instantly dubbed “Knyaz Kerns.”  I had been singled out as being “peculiar”—and I felt highly complimented.  If they wanted to nickname me “Knyaz,” I would be glad to be so designated.

Late one night I was sleeping soundly in my bunk when I was suddenly jerked awake by someone shaking my shoulder.  I awoke to find a drunken soldier named Terry sitting in a chair that he’d drawn up to my bed.  It was apparent that Terry wanted to talk.  I let him.  I was glad that I did because I ultimately received one of my all-time, favorite compliments—from a drunken soldier.  After Terry had gone on for some time, he suddenly blurted out, “Kerns, you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever known.  I expected you to be mad if I woke you up.  You never get mad.  You never say anything bad about anybody.”

I was amazed.  He had identified the very thing I’d been working on for the past weeks and months.

Terry went to church with me several times after that.  After 45 years I still remember his full name, and that he was from Iowa; but I have no idea what happened to him.  He was a likeable young man.  I hope that the memory of my peculiarity was one day the catalyst that hopefully made him listen to the missionaries and to accept the gospel.

I had a whole different idea in mind when I sat down to write about being peculiar.  Those ideas will have to wait.  These stories came to mind instead, and needed to be written.  They illustrate how by being peculiar we become the salt of the earth, a light to the world, and a chosen and special treasure to the Lord.