Losing Our Religion
I’ve been religious as far back as I can remember. Just five years old, I’d had meaningful conversations with God as I walked alone to the onion-domed church just blocks away from our run-down, dark, and chaotic apartment. I entertained thoughts of heaven and envisioned having a gloriously large family.
Religion, for me, had always meant comfort, joy and belonging.
“I think God hates me.” My daughter Chante’ seemed to be half-joking. Busy preparing herself for her days work, she didn’t have time to discuss. Every ounce of my being wanted to engage, but I knew better. Almost inaudibly I muttered a “No, He doesn’t, hun.” It did little to convince her, nor did it ease my sense of urgency.
Chante’ grew up a believer. Though painfully shy, she was always pushed to the edge of her comfort zone at church events. She’d happily attended Bible camps, never missed a church service, been a part of every event — first one there, last to leave. She prayed, she sang, she invited friends to events, she outshone everyone in her ability to find “one on the fringe” and bring them in. She grew up in the church. Rather, she grew up in the core of church, on a pedestal, under a spotlight — she and her brothers were preacher’s kids.
But she hadn’t attended a service willingly since 2014. Though she continued to volunteer every summer at the Bible camps and attended young adult retreats, church wasn’t for her. She was in her third year of college when she let us know that she wasn’t going to be attending church with us anymore.
It hit me hard.
Our three children never knew a life outside of ministry, yet now, none of my children called themselves religious. But my kids wouldn’t be the only ones.
Pew Research conducted a poll in 2018 and concluded that those who described themselves as unaffiliated from any church or religion rose from 17% to 26% in just nine short years. Those that are unaffiliated are described as “nones”. Citing difficulty with religious teachings, churches’ stands on social and political issues and disbelief in God, many millennials and Gen Z’s are included in those that have distanced themselves from organized religion. In some circles, unresolved church wounds have played their part as well.
Dan Bouchelle is president of Mission Resource Network — an organization that helps churches define or redefine their mission. He says that millennials and Gen Z’s are experiencing “a disconnect between the Jesus of the Gospels and their church experience.” For some, that disconnect came with disastrous results.
Dr. Ryan Burge is an assistant professor of political science, and pastor of a small Baptist church. He’s also the author of The Nones: Where They Came From, Who They Are, and Where They Are Going. As a social scientist and pastor, he says that he has observed that each “none” has their own story. Some may have similar experiences, but each story is idiosyncratic.
Our youngest son, Zion King, 21, answered the question of affiliation this way — “Depends on what you’re asking. If you’re asking if I attend church anywhere. No. But if you’re asking if I’m a member of the body of Christ, then yes. I’m a member of the body of Christ.” His answer is common among the “nones”.
After a few tumultuous years, our eldest son DeVon, 27, has settled into manhood. He was always kind and gentle, but he paid a price for it. “Church didn’t feel like a safe haven.” he told me regretfully.
Our three kids had front-row seats on church teachings and issues. They said that the church made itself ineffective in the world when it focused on hang-ups instead of the good they could do in it, often wielding scripture to build barriers against the world rather than using it to draw people in.
Zion told me that he wished that our churches were known for aid to the homeless and hurting, rather than the history of sexism, racism, bigotry, and homophobia that churches are known for now.
His observance is not unique. Barna reports that 1 out of 5 Americans point to vitriolic attitudes as Christianity’s negative contribution to American society.
I spoke to five young adults that used to attend our youth group or Bible camps. Some weren’t sure where they’d landed and didn’t want to comment, while others shared similar frustrations. University student Delaney Lyngard’s struggle with churches began in her early teens. Delaney was left reeling when she’d heard sermons that she felt preached hate for the LGBTQIA2S+ community. “I find it’s hard for me to go to church because I question, ‘Am I following the Bible or am I following the religion of this specific church?’ Sometimes the church kind of makes me think of an Instagram filter. You see the IG models they’re perfect, everything is smooth.” Delaney continued, “And they take away the filter and it’s not so pretty.”
Formerly identifying as Christian, Mya Bacus, a nursing student, now identifies as Spiritual. She said that church was distressing to her because she felt many decisions were made from fear disguised as love. Specifically, she felt that the taboo topic of sexuality was distorted there. So, she left.
Burge says that sharp divisions are impacting the church. “I think political polarization and religious polarization are deeply intertwined with each other in ways that we are not fully understanding.”
And then there’s the hurt.
One Barna study says that nearly four out of ten (37%) of non-churchgoing Americans avoid churches due to negative past experiences in church or with church people.
Chante’ returned from her new job at a retail cosmetic store. I remembered her “God hates me” comment from earlier that morning. “Do you really think that?” I inquired hesitantly, moving things to make space for a conversation.
She chuckled. “No. It’s just something I say when things aren’t going my way.” She leaned with one elbow on her bed as we discussed her thoughts on growing up in church. Chante’ recalled being an older teen at a church meeting. There were mostly “white hairs” in attendance. After listening as the church hashed out details on mundane tasks, Chante’ grew agitated. Deeply shy but convicted, Chante’ told me about speaking up: “I was a teenager. I was terrified. I spoke up about focusing on the youth and got yelled at in front of everyone.” Deeply hurt, she was silenced. The meeting continued with talk about air filters, church insurance, and who would be leading singing next week.
For her, she said, it was the last nail in the coffin. She wanted to keep loving Jesus, but the church was placing doubt about His presence among His people.
Russell Moore, newly appointed public theologian for Christianity Today wrote that “nones” aren’t leaving due to secular pressure, but rather due to evangelicalism’s failure. “We now see young evangelicals walking away from evangelicalism not because they do not believe what the church teaches, but because they believe the church itself does not believe what the church teaches.”
Chante’, like DeVon, Zion, Mya and Delaney cited this dissonance as the primary frustration to their young faiths.
I asked directly if they’d ever come back and was surprised by their answers. They told me that the churches need to stop making snap judgements about the state of their souls. They still love God. They love Jesus. But they have a hard time with the church.
Bouchelle says that perpetuating our churches by recruiting young adults will fail — they’re not interested in saving our churches let alone attending them.
Church attendance is one metric for understanding the religious state of young people. According to Barna, the share of practicing Christians has nearly dropped in half since 2000.
In a 2013 poll, half of Canadians said they never or seldomly go to church or other worship services. Yet, more than half of all Canadians in the Center’s 2018 survey said religion remains at least somewhat or very important in their lives.
But carefully crafted worship services and eloquent sermons may be missing the mark. The “nones” I spoke to said it was simple. They just needed someone to talk to — non-judgmentally.
Delaney had specific questions but was sidelined and left to her own devices. She shrugged at the tepid response to her sincere questions, “Okay, well then, I guess I’ll go YouTube it or go get a book.”
Burge explains the struggle. “So, the reality is it’s easier to not go anywhere. I think a lot of the times, people are not turned off from religion, they’re turned off from conservative religion… so they just stopped going all together. They sort of drift away from a religious connection and then that makes them a ‘none’.” But going it alone isn’t going to work either.
Bouchelle reminds churches that the Gospel is about the restoration of relationships between God, humanity, creation, and each other. It’s all about relationships. Individual, privatization of faith is just a commodification of Christianity, he said. And Bouchelle implored, “You can’t be a disciple alone.”
Deep, truthful conversations. Mentorship. Nothing formal, very personal, very relational. This kind of gathering is what many millennials and Gen Z’s are looking for. They want to share their personal hopes, joys and fears. They want their questions about the Bible, God and Jesus faced and answered truthfully, in love. They want to deepen their understanding of the world and their place in it. They want to wrestle with hard spiritual things in a safe place.
Chante’ imagined a simple gathering like this with friends who talk about life, open scriptures and discuss how to relate to it. “That could be church.”
It sounds biblical. Very New Testament, even.
As far as addressing the ones who were burned out, DeVon appealed to churches to acknowledge the pain. “Don’t act surprised. It adds to the hurt.” He continued softly, “It’s probably not too late to extend a helping hand — or at least an apologetic hand. I don’t think we can truly blame the church for the whole thing, but for the stuff they do know, if I were them, I would honestly come forward and apologize.” It was the first time I’d heard him speak of the possibility of reconciliation. I let him continue, “I’d say the clay is still somewhat soft, despite the rough exterior. There’s a couple of cracks. You just got to be gentle in opening that up.”
Burge said that he thinks a lot of young people really do have a deep ache in their heart to be part of a religious community. Especially post-COVID-19. And he thinks the church is a wonderful place to be in community.
So, Burge urges young people to stick around. He says, “I hope they see that the best way to make change in a church is not to leave. It’s to hang around and agitate. Keep [and] continue the fight.” He said, “Because if you disagree with the church and you leave, they’re never going to change.”
Reconciliation is just the beginning. Young people don’t want to be merely pew occupiers, they want to be actively engaged in the church. Chante’ admitted that though she’s shy, she wants to be involved.
Burge noted, “[We’re at] a hinge moment in the history of American Christianity. Things are starting to change very rapidly. But change is coming,” Burge said confidently, “And it’s coming through young people.”
So, could a reconciled church with committed, Jesus-seeking, answer-finding, active members could be on the horizon? It’s possible, the experts say, but it will require the ability to listen — and listen well.
Don’t get offended, defensive or angry, Bouchelle pleads with the church, “Get curious. Move in and listen. Try to understand where they’re coming from, the pain that drives it, and the argument that they’re making. Be humble and confessional about the way that we have contributed to some of that.”
Burge agreed, and explained, “There’s this old phrase in the Greek called vox populi, vox dei, which means the voice of the people is the voice of God. We should not forget that God groans through his people.”
It will also require humility.
Burge remembered a poignant moment of humility in action at the George Floyd protests. “[I saw] a guy who came to a rally in a little town in Ohio, and he pulled out and sign it said, ‘I’m sorry I was late, I had a lot to learn.’” It’s this posture, Burge said, that can save our churches.
Bouchelle said that churches need get to get back to what the Gospel actually is — that if we have those conversations, our churches will become healthier and more attractive. He has compassion for “nones”, “There are not a lot of places they can have [those conversations].”
Both Bouchelle and Burge predict that in the next 10- 20 years, many churches will close. Bouchelle said that “Most of those churches ought to be selling off their property and reinvesting it in new church plants.” He hopes that churches would see it as a healthy and positive experience.
“There is still opportunity to talk to the young people that leave the church,” Chante warmly reminded me. “I think when people hear that a young person has left the church, they think it’s final and there’s nothing they can do about it. But it could be that they’re just taking a break for a while or just have some questions.” She assured me, “Just be patient.”
I remember that my spiritual journey wasn’t a straight line either. I experienced conflicts, doubts, hopes, disappointments, aspirations, and complete failures. I wandered, came back, asked questions, prayed a little and argued a lot.
I can wait. Besides, if our “nones” make it through their period of wandering and emerge focused, kind-hearted, but determined — they may revive the church as God meant the church to be. It will once again be a gathering of believers who are determined to know and love Jesus, to serve humanity and encourage each other.
Not a place to go. A place to belong.
