From time to time I revisit the question: why are young adults walking away from religion? Although the answer(s) vary from person to person, there are some general trends that I think apply in most cases.
In the list below, when I refer to "we," "I" or "me," I'm referring to younger adults in general, and not necessarily myself.
We've Been Hurt: I can actually include myself in this one personally. Sometimes the hurtful act is specific, like when my youth leader threw a Bible at me for asking the wrong questions. Sometimes it's rhetorical, either from the pulpit, in a small group study or over a meal. Sometimes it's physical, taking the form of sexual abuse or the like. But millions claim a wound they can trace back to church that has never healed. Why? In part, because the church rarely seeks forgiveness.
Adult Life/College and Church Don't Seem to Mix: There are the obvious things, like scheduling activities on Sunday mornings (hint: young people tend to go out on Saturday nights), but there's more to it. In college, and before that by our parents, we're taught to explore the world, broaden our horizons, think critically, question everything and figure out who we are as individuals. Though there's value in this, it's hyper-individualistic. But Church is more about community. In many ways, it represents, fairly or not, sameness, conformity and a "check your brain at the door" ethos. This stands in opposition to what the world is telling us is important at this time in life.
Perhaps an emphasis on a year of community service after high school would be a natural bridge to ameliorate some of this narcissism we're building in to ourselves.
There's No Natural Bridge to Church: Most teenagers leave home, either for college, to travel, work or whatever after high school. With the bad economy, this number is fewer, but it's a general trend. But the existing model of church still depends on the assumption that communities are relatively static, and that the church is at the center of that community. Not so anymore. When I went to college, I was contacted by fraternities, campus activity groups and credit card companies, but not one church. The only connection I had with religion was the ridiculous guy who (literally) stood on a box with a bullhorn in the union garden and yelled at us about our sinful ways. I could have used support in how to deal with my own finances for the first time. I could have used a built-in network of friends. I would have loved a care package, an invitation for free pizza at the local restaurant or help with my laundry. What I got was the goof with the bullhorn.
We're Distracted: I shared a video by Diana Butler Bass in a recent post about a priest who took his Ash Wednesday service out onto the street. When people saw him, they reacted as if they had been shaken out of a deep sleep. "It's Ash Wednesday!" they said with surprise as they asked for the ashes. "Lent is starting!" It simply wasn't on their radar. It's not that we don't care; we have so many things competing for our limited time and attention that the passive things that don't offer an immediate "interrupt" get relegated to the "later" pile. And we rarely ever get to the "later" pile, which leads me to the next point.
We're Skeptical: We're exposed to more ad impressions in a month today than any other previous generation experienced in a lifetime. I'm sitting in a hotel room writing this, and in this room (which I paid for in part to have privacy), I see more than a dozen marketing messages. If I turn on the TV, they're there. Pick up my phone, they're there. Online...you get the point. So whereas generations before us expended energy seeking information out, now it comes at us in such overwhelming volumes that we spend at least the same amount of energy filtering things out. This leads to somewhat of a calcifying of the senses, always assuming that whoever is trying to get your attention wants something, just like everyone else.
We're Exhausted: I was lumped in as pat of the Generation X group, also known as the Slacker Generation. This implied, of course, that we were lazy and unmotivated. But consider how many of us go to college, compared to generations before us. And consider that the baseline standard for family economics requires a two-income revenue stream to live in any level of the middle class. Debt and credit are givens, and working full-time while also trying to maintain a marriage, raise kids, have friends and -- God forbid -- have some time left for ourselves leaves us with less than nothing. We're always running a deficit. So when you ask me to set aside more time and more money for church, you're trying to tap already empty reserves.
I Don't Get It: Young adults today are the most un-churched generation in a long time. In many cases, it's not that we're walking away from church; we never went in. From what I can tell from the outside, there's not much relevance to my life in there, and I'm not about to take the risk of walking through the door to find out otherwise.
I've tried to offer insight into what might be done about a few of these issues as I went, but I invite you also to sit with the tension of not having the answers. Better yet, seek some young adults out, ask them if they relate to these. And see if they have ideas about what you (maybe not even "church" but you) can do to help relieve some of the challenges.
I think the conversation that follows might pleasantly surprise you.