9: Exclusive
Disconnection: “I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. . . . It was a very sad and lonely night. I remember thinking . . . , My non-Christian friends would never do that to me.”
—Sarah
Reconnection: “When I have empathy, I begin to understand the love Christ has for the hurting and begin to see the situation from their point of view. It is a way of humbling yourself and putting others’ needs and emotions before your own.”
—Taylor
After high school graduation, Sarah moved to Winnipeg and started work at a trendy restaurant, where she was embraced by a circle of warm, wonderful friends—few of whom, as it happens, were Christians. She even started dating Steve, who had grown up Catholic but no longer practiced the faith. The following summer, Sarah was hired to work at the Christian camp she had attended as a high school student. She was thrilled—the summers she had spent there had been meaningful seasons in her life and her walk with God and she was excited to return.
Sarah and Steve felt strongly enough about each other that they decided to stay together long distance while she was away for the summer. They wrote and talked every day, and their relationship continued to deepen. But after the camp director’s wife found out that Sarah was dating a non-Christian, Sarah became her “project.” Sarah says, “Morning meetings, lunch meetings—she even sent me to talk with another woman who came from a ‘mixed’ relationship—all with the sole agenda of trying to convince me to break up with Steve.” The all-out assault on Sarah’s relationship took its toll and, after a few weeks, she and Steve decided to take a break. She remembers, “He didn’t want to pull me away from my beliefs but he also knew that he wasn’t going to change. We were both crushed but felt like it must be the right thing to do. The director’s wife was elated. It was literally an answer to her prayers. I found out later that the entire senior team was having meetings about me.
“That was a tough week at camp. As much as I tried to tell myself that it was for the best, it just didn’t feel right.”
When Sarah and Steve saw each other the following weekend, they decided that in spite of their religious differences and the pressure Sarah was under, they wanted to try to make their relationship work. (They’ve been together ever since—seven years and counting.)
The day Sarah returned to camp was her last. She recalls, “That night after the kids were in bed, I was called down to the director’s office. He told me that, because I chose to date Steve, I had become a ‘spiritual block’ at the camp. I needed to pack my things and leave first thing in the morning. I wasn’t allowed to tell any of my friends—the director and his wife would explain everything at the morning meeting, which I would not be welcome to attend. After the meeting I could say my good-byes and leave.
“I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. They let me use the office to make arrangements to be picked up in the morning and that was that. It was a very sad and lonely night. I remember thinking on the way home, My non-Christian friends would never do that to me.”
INTOLERABLE
Sarah’s story illustrates one of the most pervasive perceptions among young adults: the church is exclusive. Many in the next generation believe that Christians have an insider-outsider mentality that is always ready to bar the door to those who don’t meet their standards. This flies in the face of the Mosaics’ collective values and reference points. Tolerance has been the cultural North Star for most of their upbringing. Inclusiveness, diversity, and political correctness are ideals that have shaped this generation. And these values are more than aspirations—multiculturalism already defines the experiences and friendships of many young adults. Whether or not we like this fact, we must grapple with these generational realities and make sense of them if we are to relate well for the sake of the gospel.
Take ethnicity. In 1960, as the Boomers came of age, more than four out of five of the eighteen- to twenty-nine-year-old demographic in the United States were white.[60] Now, just slightly more than half of young people are white. Look at faith. In 1960 more than nine out of ten young adults identified as Christian. That proportion is now 62 percent. Notice family makeup. In 1960 just one out of every twenty births (5 percent) were to unwed mothers. Now that percentage is 42 percent. Young people are growing up with peers who are more ethnically, religiously, and relationally diverse than the peers with whom their parents came of age.
Furthermore, gender equality, sexual openness, and awareness of the gay and lesbian community were new to the cultural consciousness of the 1960s. Now, egalitarianism, hypersexuality, and sexual orientation are part of the scenery. Most twentysomethings assume that the voices of lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender people should be heard in cultural conversations of any consequence.
And that’s just the beginning. Mosaics are more globally interconnected than previous generations (greater levels of access, remember?). This has attuned many of them to the immense gap between the world’s rich and poor. Even as many of them grow up to consume just as lavishly as their parents, they are keenly aware of economic and social disparities.
Sitting in the stands at my daughter Annika’s recent basketball game, I noticed a huge banner on the middle school’s gymnasium wall. Created by students to look like the Declaration of Independence, the banner proclaimed that these ten- to thirteen-year-olds would “stand up for anyone who is bullied because of their race, religion, or income.” I’m all for rejecting bullying—as are most people of any age—but I was struck by the banner’s patriotic design. Could it really be that, for America’s younger generations, intimidation and intolerance are on a level with oppression by a foreign power? Even if not, their affinity for tolerance poses a significant challenge for the church, in four related ways.
Agreement versus Disagreement
Founder of Off the Map, Jim Henderson, has described eighteen- to twenty-nine-year-olds as “the great agreement generation,” because young people prefer finding areas of common ground rather than emphasizing differences that may lead to conflict. They look for ways to come together, rather than for issues on which to divide. Whatever your views on President Obama, for example, there is no denying his appeal to Mosaics. His themes of unity and collective action resonate with and continue to inspire the younger generation.
The history of the church, both in the distant and the recent past, points to a willingness on the part of Christians to split from other believers if the stakes are high enough. We could talk all day (and probably never agree) about the worthiness of various issues over which churches have split, even as we agree that there are good reasons to stand firm on matters of Christian theology and practice. But the point remains: fewer Mosaics than previous generations would be willing to make these same divisive choices. “No compromise!” has been the slogan of the Western church, but it does not make sense to the next generation, for whom negotiation and cooperation are facts of life. As the church moves together into an unknown future, we may find Mosaics’ compulsion toward unity a gift.
Peer Responsibility versus Individuality
Young adults also look to their peers to be their moral and spiritual compass. They tend to base their views of morality on what seems fair-minded, loyal, and acceptable to their friends. This peer-centeredness poses many challenges for other generations. One of the challenges businesses face, for example, is the fact that many young employees have no moral qualms about giving away goods and services to their friends. Again, this is not entirely new. Previous generations have done favors for each other. But institutional loyalty is faltering, while tribal or peer loyalty has intensified.
In the Western church we tend to emphasize the individual over the group. We focus on personal responsibility to a fixed standard, rather than on collective negotiation with a world absent of absolute truth. This is the exact opposite of how young adults relate to their world. Yes, it is important that we in the church continue to tell the truth about personal morality, but I believe the next generation can remind us of our collective responsibility to each other and to the world. Christians are Christians in community, and the next generation can teach us a thing or two about what that means.
Fairness versus Rightness
Another hallmark of the next generation is their emphasis on fairness over rightness. Teens and twentysomethings tend to determine the rightness and wrongness of their choice by what seems fair, reasonable, and accessible. Just ask the executives (and former executives) in the music industry. One of the major forces—along with digital tools and digitized content—that undermined the conventional model of the music biz is the fact that young people came to believe (collectively) that the system of music distribution was unfair. According to their thinking, it is unfair to charge the price of an entire album when a customer wants only one song. Unfortunately for music execs, younger customers were not willing to go along with the established model. Once technology made album purchases unnecessary, young music lovers began to share individual songs—even though doing so was (and is) illegal.
Digital piracy isn’t right, but music sharing seems fair. Many young people are redefining their ethical decisions by what seems fair, rather than by an outside standard of right and wrong. How can the church, which flies the flag of God’s unchanging moral standards, deal with such a shift?
Participation versus Exclusion
With all this emphasis on peer acceptance and agreement, it should come as no surprise that the majority of young people hate to be out of the loop. They dread being excluded. They want to participate. This expectation is driven to some extent by the interactivity (rather than passive transmission) of information, and by a flood of “reality” entertainment, which promises everyone fifteen minutes (okay, maybe less) of fame. Yet a core motivation for their participatory mindset is the fundamental belief that everyone has the right to belong. No one should be excluded for any reason.
In the church we tend to make belief a prerequisite to belonging—you’re not “one of us” until you have signed off on our Statement of Faith. Yet young people start with the basic assumption that everyone belongs and they have a hard time understanding spiritual communities that feel like insider-only clubs.
EXCLUSIVITY AND ALL ITS FRIENDS
Recently I emailed Sarah, whom we met at the outset of this chapter, to ask where she’s at with church and Christianity now that she’s a few years removed from her bad camp experience. She wrote, “Over time I stopped going to church. It didn’t make sense to leave my wonderful group of friends every Sunday to try to build new relationships with people I didn’t know or really connect with. I already had a community that loved, supported, and challenged me; what else did I need? I decided that I was never again going to try to make friends based on religious beliefs. If they happened to be Christian, fine, but going forward I was going to invest in those relationships that genuinely grow out of a true enjoyment of each other’s company. So far, that has been working much better for me. I don’t think that my faith in God is ever going to change. There have been profound experiences in my life when I have felt the presence of God. Whenever I start to have doubts, I look back on those moments and know they were real. God will always be a part of my life. I just don’t think the church will be.”
By relating Sarah’s story, I do not mean to debate the biblical correctness of the camp director’s decision. Instead, I want to suggest that exclusivity, applied legalistically and without a relational foundation, leaves a bitter taste. Being excluded is tough to swallow for any generation, but it is especially tough for today’s all-access, low-authority young people who would rather do just about anything than choose to end a relationship.
As we noticed previously in this chapter, young Christians have had greater exposure to a wide range of theological and religious viewpoints than previous generations. They maintain more non-Christian friendships than any previous generation of Christian youth. They have more relationships than did their parents with those of various sexual orientations and identities.
Contrasting with their being “for” all these relationships is the church, which appears to be against them. Today the Christian community exists in society’s vortex of discontinuously different thinking about the world and relationships. One of the sentiments we uncovered in our research was that many young Christians, particularly young exiles, feel “forced to choose between my faith and my friends.” In other words, many young Christians and ex-Christians feel as though the church makes them choose between faithfulness to friends and faithfulness to faith.
Exclusive | In Their Own Words
Percentage of 18- to 29-year-olds who have a Christian background
completely true of me
completely or mostly true of me
Churches are not accepting of gays and lesbians.
19%
38%
Christians are afraid of the beliefs of other faiths.
13%
29%
I feel forced to choose between my faith and my friends.
12%
29%
Church ignores the problems of the real world.
9%
22%
Church is like a country club, only for insiders.
8%
22%
I have never really been accepted by church people.
6%
14%
Barna Group | 2011 | N=1,296
The specific comments we uncovered in our research included the widespread belief that churches are not accepting of gays and lesbians. Another common perception is that Christians are afraid of the beliefs of other faith groups.
There is a reason why Christianity is perceived to be exclusive. One of our faith’s central claims is that God’s coming in Jesus was incomparably unique, a one-time event never to be matched or repeated. Jesus himself told the disciples, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6).
But what does the next generation believe about the claim of Christ to be the only way to the Father? What do they believe about the necessity of salvation? And do their beliefs translate into personal faith sharing with others? If we look at the overall picture, eighteen- to twenty-nine-year-olds are more likely than the previous generation of Americans to believe in religious pluralism, which holds that there are many different paths to God. More specifically, they are likely to believe that most or all religions teach essentially the same spiritual truths.
We found that young nomads and prodigals are particularly focused on exclusion as an unpalatable aspect of Christianity. We see an example of this in John Sullivan, a GQ writer who says that the “hell stuff” really caused him to rethink his faith in Christ (read John’s story in chapter 10). Yet the findings among exiles and other faithful young adults suggest that they are just as likely to believe in the exclusivity of Christ as were their parents and grandparents. For instance, there are no differences between younger and older Christians when it comes to rejecting the following beliefs: that people can lead a meaningful life without accepting Jesus as their Savior; that Christians and Muslims worship the same God; that the Bible, the Koran, and the Book of Mormon are all different expressions of the same spiritual truths; and that it doesn’t matter what religious faith you follow because they all teach the same lessons. Most young committed Christians have a great deal of theological consistency with their parents’ viewpoints on these issues. Aside from exiles and other committed believers, however—that is, among the wider population of young Christians and former Christians—we find significantly more religious pluralism than among the older generations.[61]
What, then, is the difference between young Christians and older believers? It’s their context. The younger Christian community is “doing theology” in an environment different from that of the past; not everyone within the community connects with the historic faith’s truth claims. This fact is causing younger Christians, especially exiles, to rethink theology and practice in at least three areas: evangelism, denominations, and the “other.”
Evangelism
Young Christians are less likely than Christians a decade ago to share their faith with others.[62] They are reluctant to try to convince a friend to become a Christian. This is an unfortunate response to the chasm between their beliefs and those of the broader culture, which says that it’s offensive or even hateful to argue for a specific religion or truth claim.
If there is one thing the church might learn, however, it’s this: young Christians who are willing to share their faith consistently explained that they do not believe evangelism can be separated from action. As we have already mentioned, this generation doesn’t want to be merely hearers of faith but also doers. This desire explains the next generation’s focus on social justice. For better or worse, many young Christians believe that evangelism must be connected to actions on behalf of others.
Kate, one young Christian we interviewed, captured this sentiment when she said, “I don’t want to attend a church that constantly rails against sin and sinners. I want to be a part of a church that also helps people who are affected by the results of sin. This seems like what Jesus did.”
Candidly, my concern as a researcher and as an observer of this generation is that they will focus so much on “doing” that the message and the motivation—Christ’s work on the cross—will be lost. I worry that their concerns for “causes” will be spent, used up, without the potency of the gospel at the core of their efforts. And I wonder what we could do as older Christ-followers to represent both the words and deeds of Christ, so that the next generation has a healthy model to follow.
Denominations
For the most part, denominations are of less importance to younger generations than to older adults. Don’t get me wrong. Denominations are and will continue to be significant shapers of American religion, and millions of young people are quite loyal to their particular “brand” of Christianity. As I have said, I believe institutions matter because they are the mediators of our collective culture; therefore, the appropriate reinvention of these institutions matters to our future. Similarly, theology matters—and so too differences of theological opinion between various Christian traditions. We should help the next generation see why respectful, honest conversations about these differences are important.
Yet we shouldn’t miss the larger pattern here. There is a growing sensibility among many young Christians that denominations emphasize believers’ differences while they would rather celebrate what Christians share in common. They don’t want to be defined exclusively by denominational categories. Many Protestants want to understand their Catholic sisters’ and brothers’ viewpoints. Young Christians of all stripes want to move beyond “theological feudalism” in favor of a shared vision of their role in Christ’s kingdom. Yes, the anti-institutional impulse of the next generation is a driver of this perspective but it is more than that. Exiles, in particular, are raising potent questions about why Christ talked so much about unity, and about how we might reconcile his instructions with the downside of denominationalism.
One study we conducted among pastors of a specific denomination is a case in point. Young evangelical clergy from this denomination were far less willing than older leaders to sign an exclusive statement about their denomination’s theological position. Rarely have I seen as huge a gap between young and old as was uncovered in that study.
While denominations will continue to be an important part of organizing and mobilizing churches and churchgoers, we are finding that young people (including younger pastors) do not want denominational differences to get in the way of Christianity’s broader story. They do not want to neglect the church’s mission just so they can live or die on a denominational hill.
The “Other”
When you marry highly valued diversity to a theological belief in the necessity of Christ, you get a love for the “other”—the outsider, the marginalized. Passionate, mission-driven exiles seem to share the conviction that the North American church has somehow lost its heart for the very kinds of people Jesus sought out during his earthly ministry—the oppressed, the poor, and the physically, emotionally, and socially crippled. The more critical among the younger generation might say that the typical church is good at reaching “recycled Christians”—believers who are uncommitted to another church body—but not at reaching those who are truly on the outside looking in.
A young church plant here in Ventura, California, where my friend and fellow thirtysomething Chris Hall is the pastor, has focused its vision on reaching those who are “far from God.” Chris has been criticized by other Christian leaders in our community for his expressions and actions of solidarity with homeless people, drunks, and junkies. (Sound like criticism Jesus heard?) Yet Chris and his church family know that there is a world of difference between claiming that Jesus is exclusively the Christ and excluding people from fellowship with the church.
EXCLUSION TURNS TO EMBRACE
My young friend Lucas works at one of my favorite coffee shops in Ventura. A few months ago, Lucas—who is somewhere between a nomad and an exile—described to me the upside-down ethics of a recent encounter with a customer. “There is this guy who comes in pretty regularly,” he said. “And he always buys the cheapest thing on the menu, usually a small coffee, and then asks for an extra large cup. He goes over to the sugar and cream station and puts a little milk in his small coffee. Then he fills up the entire extra cup with 2% or whole milk. And then he leaves.
“Recently I got promoted to shift lead and was really tired of seeing him blatantly steal milk. I mean, it’s basically shoplifting, right? So when he asked for the extra cup the other day, I told him, ‘You know, if this is for your milk, I really need to charge you for it.’ He was really ticked off. So guess what happened next?” Lucas asked, ramping up the drama.
“What?”
“The guy got so angry that he complained to the manager. And Monic, my supervisor, guess what she did? She wrote me up. I got disciplined. Why? Because I ‘failed to leave the customer with a positive experience.’ ”
I was genuinely flabbergasted. “Dude, are you serious?”
“Completely,” Lucas confirmed. “Is that not the craziest thing you have ever heard?”
“Pretty close.”
“Monic tells me not to worry about it, but it’s on my employee record. I just don’t understand how a company makes it okay for someone to steal and then is hard on me as an employee for trying to protect their property. That’s just messed up.”
Lucas’s experience with the milk shoplifter epitomizes the dark side of inclusiveness—a culture so enamored with tolerance that an employee who could not tolerate stealing was punished. An understandable rejection of this twisted ethic lies at the root of the church’s reluctance to grapple with the next generation’s concerns about our exclusiveness. After all, we serve a God who is utterly dependable in his moral character and who has revealed in the Bible the standard by which right and wrong are to be measured. Rightly, I believe, we question our culture’s fixation on political correctness and “peace at all costs.” Yet I also think the next generation’s impulse to include everyone is an invitation God is extending to the church to rethink our posture toward the world.
I want to suggest that when we accept the terms of the debate—exclusion versus tolerance—we lose. When we choose exclusion, the church circles the wagons and becomes a fortresslike, members-only organization overcome by a siege mentality. We bar the door to everyone who looks scary or asks questions that make us uncomfortable.
When we choose tolerance of every person and ideology, on the other hand, we shrink from sharing the very, very good news of God’s love, demonstrated like never before or since in Christ, and from confronting sin and the suffering that is sin’s result. Exclusion lacks love; the wrong kind of tolerance lacks courage.
At the heart of the Christian story, however, is the Triune God’s rejection of both exclusion and tolerance. The Creator was not content to exclude those who had rejected him, but neither was he prepared to tolerate our hatefulness and sin. So what did he do? He became one of us, one of the “other,” identifying with us to embrace us in solidarity, empathy, and selfless agape love—all the way to the cross.[63]
What would it look like for the Christian community to do the same? How would the church be different if we were to reject exclusion as unacceptable and tolerance as not good enough? What would we do differently when discipling young adults to help them cultivate Christlike empathy that identifies with the least, the last, and the lost?
Embracing Scripture
We might start by seeking a fully biblical view of Christ’s message and mission. A good place to begin this endeavor is with the stories Jesus told about the “other.” Let’s enter into the story of the wealthy host who invites the dregs of society to his lavish banquet after the elite turn down his invitation (see Luke 14:15–24). Let’s meditate on the tale of the shepherd who leaves ninety-nine of his sheep to seek the one that is lost (see Luke 15:1–7). Let’s find ourselves in the parable of the loving father who wants nothing more than to reconcile with his wayward son (see Luke 15:11–32). In each of these stories—and by his own actions—Jesus invites us to glimpse God’s heart for the outsider.
The apostle Paul’s writings to the fledgling early churches show a similar compassion for those on the outside looking in. “God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom. 5:8). Don’t forget that we were all outsiders, he says to the church in Rome. To the church in the city of Corinth, he writes:
When I wrote to you before, I told you not to associate with people who indulge in sexual sin. But I wasn’t talking about unbelievers who indulge in sexual sin, or are greedy, or cheat people, or worship idols. You would have to leave this world to avoid people like that. I meant that you are not to associate with anyone who claims to be a believer yet indulges in sexual sin. . . . Don’t even eat with such people. It isn’t my responsibility to judge outsiders, but it certainly is your responsibility to judge those inside the church who are sinning. God will judge those on the outside.
1 Corinthians 5:9–13 NLT
Paul’s instructions are crystal clear but are tough to apply, even for the most devout and lifelong Christian. Most of us are more than happy to judge those who are not “one of us”! What would it look like for us to take Paul’s admonition seriously and teach our young people to do the same?
“Live wisely among those who are not believers, and make the most of every opportunity,” Paul writes to the young church in Colossae. “Let your conversation be gracious and attractive so that you will have the right response for everyone” (Col. 4:5–6 NLT). What a wonderful snapshot of our responsibility as Christians! Such a livable piece of advice! Are we cultivating this gracious posture toward non-Christians and teaching young disciples to live wisely as well?
A while ago I heard of a group of teen-conference planners who considered teaching young people catchy one-liners “to use on an atheist,” simple phrases that could be taught in a short seminar session that could then be lobbed at a person who doesn’t believe in God. (I wondered, Is “Go to hell” on the list?) Although this is an extreme example, the fact this idea was seriously considered points to our heart’s preference for slogan making over living wisely and speaking graciously.
Scripture must also be our guide as we grapple with the singularity of Christ and what this means for the church’s mission. I know a youth pastor who leads a one-month study of the Gospel of John with his group every year. He says, “It’s really hard for people to read the book of John and miss what Jesus was saying about himself. He was making a reality-altering claim about his nature. Even my best teaching falls flat trying to convey this. The best way is for young people to learn Christ through the Scriptures. That’s the only way I have found for any of us to truly grasp the exclusivity of Christ’s message.”
Embracing Practice
What methods are we using to help young adults understand and experience Christ’s message? What practices can help them develop their missional empathy, producing actions of love for the hurting and hopeless because of their love for Christ? Are we making service to the outsider a central component of discipleship?
Our rich and varied traditions can help us in this regard. Every tradition, whether Wesleyan, Reformed, Orthodox, Anabaptist, or Anglo-Catholic, has formulated missional practices that can help the broader church shape a generation of mission-minded and passionately evangelistic Christ-followers. As we share practices and fellowship across denominational lines, we reject both exclusion and tolerance and can truly embrace each other as sisters and brothers in Christ.
Embracing Empathy
The next generation needs workable, biblical, grace-filled ways to relate with people who are not believers. For the sake of Christ and the church’s mission, we must give them better tools and a thoughtful, livable theology to match. I wish I had easy suggestions, but the truth is that relationships are hard, complex work. No two are alike. Yet learning how to love others with the courage of our God-given convictions is the fine art of following Christ. Teaching younger Christians how to do this is the fine art of discipleship.
One piece of good news is that the next generation has more to offer than we might imagine. I think many of them—like our family friend, Taylor, who is a nineteen-year-old now studying at Seattle Pacific University—are already working out a thoughtful, livable theology. I ran into Taylor recently at a shop in our hometown of Ventura. As she gabbed with a friend, I couldn’t help but notice that she had “Empathy” embroidered across her handbag. Frankly I was curious why that word so resonated with her.
When I asked about it, Taylor said, “Empathy is the ability to see a situation, an emotion, an action through Christ’s eyes and through the other person’s heart. When I have empathy, I begin to understand the love Christ has for the hurting and see the situation from their point of view. It is a way of humbling yourself and putting others’ needs and emotions before your own.”
“But aren’t you concerned that some Christians might think ‘empathy’ just means accepting everyone no matter what they do?” I asked.
“Yeah, a few people have kind of looked at me strangely. But empathy is taking on the nature of Christ. It’s the ability to understand and take on yourself the burdens of others. I have a huge heart for those caught up in sex trafficking. It’s an evil that rips away the innocence of children and treats women as if they are less than dirt. Though I cannot relate at all to their situation, it is through empathy that I am able to realize the inner hurt and despair created by this slavery. In our yearning to become Christlike, we have the opportunity to embrace his character.”
Beyond the false choice between exclusion and tolerance, let’s help the next generation see the Way—Jesus.