Many of them say no. According to Adam J. Copeland, writing in Christian Century (subscription required):
Within the metro area of Fargo, North Dakota, and Moorhead, Minnesota, are scores of vital mainline churches. So why are 45,000 young adults—close to a quarter of the entire population—not connected to any of them?
In economic terms, it's not a supply-side issue; there's simply no demand for church from the young adults. In my new call as developer of young adult ministry in the Fargo-Moorhead area, I've been meeting and talking with young adults in area pubs and coffee shops. After only a dozen conversations, it became clear that what many mainline churches here offer—the worship, the programs, the intergenerational community—fails to connect with many in their twenties and thirties. Perhaps this was predictable, but for me, a 28-year-old pastor called to work with other young adults, it's been a troubling discovery.
This certainly has been my experience. The vast majority of my friends - many of whom continue to identify as Christian, though others are more ambiguous and some are avowed atheists - do not regularly attend church and see little reason to do so except, perhaps, at Christmas or Easter. The funny thing is none of this is new. I remember being startled when I learned in divinity school, for example, that church attendance was much less common during colonial America before the so-called First Great Awakening than it is today. The same was true during much of the Middle Ages.
Copeland suggests one response to this phenomenon is to create ministries aimed at meeting those in their 20s and 30s where they are:
One essential aspect of this ministry is space for young people to address questions of faith, life and ethics in public settings. We've realized that our forums—and this is key—should not focus on delivering an "expert answer" from some theologically trained stranger. Instead, they must allow participants to listen to one another, to form friendships and to relax in the beauty of holy conversation.
I think that's exactly right. And it is, I suspect, pretty much what Jesus did when he ate and drank with "sinners." The hard part, of course, will be persuading anyone to move beyond that to embracing the (often costly) demands Jesus makes of us followers. That's a task that undoubtedly will require lots of theological translation.
What, for example, do we mean when we speak of "sin"? Is it breaking some rule (which rule, incidentally, the average 20 year-old probably doesn't find valid anyway)? Is it injustice based on race, gender, etc. (a partial truth that has become stale and irrelevant for many young adults, at least as it's often articulated by mainline Protestant churches)?
Does it have something to do with all the longings, disappointments, anxieties, and confusions of daily life? Does it maybe even have something to do with the bullshit you may be forced to contend with at work? Finding a mate/partner? What about that feeling you get, sometimes, that everything and everyone is somehow, somewhat broken, incomplete, and in need of something new (though you can't ever say what that something is; a new car, perhaps? a new boyfriend? a new anti-depressant)?
(Image via Julian Attock)
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