{"id":605,"date":"2020-09-23T12:12:15","date_gmt":"2020-09-23T16:12:15","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/christiansingeneral\/?p=605"},"modified":"2020-09-23T12:24:53","modified_gmt":"2020-09-23T16:24:53","slug":"gen-z-is-looking-for-religion-but-not-like-their-parents","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/christiansingeneral\/2020\/09\/gen-z-is-looking-for-religion-but-not-like-their-parents\/","title":{"rendered":"Gen Z is Looking For Religion, But Not Like Their Parents"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<\/head>

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Pixabay.com<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/p>

SALT LAKE CITY \u2014 With religious services taking place online, this might seem like a moment for digital natives like Gen Z to step into the stream of faith. But new data suggests that the opposite is happening.<\/p>\n

Pew Research Center reports that those under 30 are the least likely to tune in to virtual worship. Similarly, new data show prior to the pandemic, 13- to 17-year-olds attended in-person religious services at rates similar to their parents \u2014 but they were much less likely to pray.<\/p>\n

Researchers, however, argue that surveys of religious belief often ask the wrong questions to gauge the faith of youth and young adults. They say that Gen Z \u2014 a group that was born from 1997 and later \u2014 is eager for spiritual engagement but the form it takes might confound conventional ideas of worship.<\/p>\n

Young people aren\u2019t \u201cbecoming more or less religious,\u201d says Elizabeth Drescher, a professor of religion at Santa Clara University and the author of \u201cChoosing Our Religion: The Spiritual Lives of America\u2019s Nones<\/a>.\u201d \u201cThey\u2019re becoming differently religious.\u201d<\/p>\n

Some also say that Gen Z\u2019s lack of affiliation and low rates of online engagement can be understood not as a crisis but as an opportunity for religious leaders to rethink the way they\u2019re doing church \u2014 not just for youth but for everyone.<\/p>\n

Showing up but not praying<\/h3>\n

A\u00a0newly released study<\/a>\u00a0by Pew Research Center found that, prior to the pandemic, America\u2019s teenagers attended religious services at rates that were nearly identical to their parents with 44% of teens saying that they go to services at least once a month and 43% of their parents reporting the same.<\/p>\n

While church attendance is similar among adults and their teenage children, their feelings about organized religion differ. Some 43% of parents said religion is \u201cvery important\u201d in their lives, only 24% of teenagers said so. When they were asked about daily prayer, 27% of teenagers reported doing so in comparison to 48% of parents.<\/p>\n

So while teenagers might be going along with their parents to church, their low rates of prayer \u2014 and the relatively few who rank religion as \u201cvery important\u201d \u2014 suggest they might not be accepting formal worship.<\/p>\n

Because of that, researchers cautioned against drawing conclusions that Gen Z will reverse the national march toward secularization. They also pointed out that a drop in religious observance is typical when children leave the nest and so the age group surveyed \u2014 13 to 17 \u2014 may change their practices when they leave home.<\/p>\n

Generation Z\u2019s low engagement with virtual religious services dovetails with this data. Pew Research Associate Claire Gecewicz says that when polling about religious practices was conducted in July, \u201colder adults were more likely than their younger counterparts to say they had watched religious services online or on TV in the last month.\u201d<\/p>\n

Of those 65 and up, Gecewicz says, 43% reported watching online services in the last month. For the 50 to 64 crowd, 38% had viewed virtual services, while fewer than a third of adults 30 to 49 had attended online services and less than a quarter of those under 30 tuned in.<\/p>\n

Spirituality and protesting<\/h3>\n

But those who work closely with teens and young adults say Gen Zers are just as spiritually inclined as older generations. The latest research from Pew points in that direction with 8 out of 10 teenagers reporting that they believe \u201cin God or a universal spirit\u201d and 77% saying that they feel a \u201cstrong sense of gratitude\u201d more than once a month.<\/p>\n

When considering Gen Z\u2019s religiosity, people have to change their understanding of what constitutes a spiritual practice, says Drescher, including avenues of expression that are often missed by the \u201caffiliation based measures\u201d common to polls.<\/p>\n

\u201cMost of the surveys,\u201d Drescher explains, \u201cask things like \u2018Do you believe in God or a higher power?\u2019 or \u2018Do you attend worship services?\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

Though a majority of her students \u201cidentify as non-religious,\u201d Drescher says, they \u201cstill look for social structures to express community cohesion and shared values and stories that create shared meaning.\u201d<\/p>\n

Many of Drescher\u2019s students have found that \u201cin a spiritually rich Black Lives Matter movement\u201d and other social justice causes.<\/p>\n

Those who attended Black Lives Matter protests and marches this summer, she says, reported experiencing that \u201csocial justice work\u201d as \u201cbeing part of something that is transcending, that is bigger than oneself,\u201d Drescher says. They also felt like they were gathering with others who held \u201ccommon commitments and perspectives,\u201d and that doing so constituted \u201ca meaningful way to make change\u201d\u2014 which all sounds a lot like a religious experience.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re seeing the same kind of things,\u201d Drescher observes. \u201cThe physical body, the social body \u2026 is engaged in the world in a way that hasn\u2019t been happening as much in brick and mortar churches in recent years.\u201d<\/p>\n

Drescher says that youth participation in the Black Lives Matter movement comes from a well of \u201cmoral and ethical hunger.\u201d<\/p>\n

Social media, she argues, also feeds and amplifies that hunger. It starts with social media making visual \u201cthe moral abuses of the culture,\u201d something young people experience as \u201can incarnational pull,\u201d Drescher says. \u201cPeople are drawn to be with other people by what they are seeing and learning and feeling on social media.\u201d<\/p>\n

But if BLM fizzles out, where will Gen Z take that hunger for community and shared values and spiritual sustenance?<\/p>\n

Drescher doesn\u2019t think that the quest for social, racial and economic justice will end anytime soon. The \u201cmoral abuses\u201d of our culture \u2014 made visible on social media \u2014 will continue to pull young people into the streets, she says.<\/p>\n

Shifting to community<\/h3>\n

The manner in which youth engage \u2014 or don\u2019t \u2014 in this virtual moment points to larger issues that churches should be wrestling with right now, according to Dr. Heidi Campbell, a professor of media and religion at Texas A&M University and the author of \u201cDigital Religion: Understanding Religious Practice in New Media Worlds<\/a>.\u201d<\/p>\n

As religious institutions rushed to get online when the pandemic began, many religious leaders assumed \u201cif we do a broadcast version of our service all will be well,\u201d Campbell says.<\/p>\n

People felt \u201cdisconnected\u201d as a result, Campbell says. \u201cJust because you use social media doesn\u2019t mean you increase social interaction in the space.\u201d<\/p>\n

Religious leaders have \u201cto build a community integrating the technology,\u201d she continues. \u201cJust having events online or offline doesn\u2019t mean you have a community.\u201d<\/p>\n

And that seems to be what\u2019s missing in bringing Gen Z into the fold \u2014 community, participation, connectedness.<\/p>\n

Some religious leaders have \u201ccreated a religion that has been very event-based and experience-based and not very community-based,\u201d Campbell observes.<\/p>\n

This moment, however, presents an opportunity to rethink everything. Religious institutions, Campbell says, should be \u201ctrying new ways of gathering and trying new ways of meeting \u2026 (including) small groups to talk about services online or on the phone.\u201d In that model, the focus isn\u2019t on a pastor or an event. Rather, the sermon \u201cbecomes a conversation point\u201d for a community to build upon.<\/p>\n

Spectator or participant<\/h3>\n

Similarly, Pastor Zach Lambert, of Restore Austin, a nondenominational church, reports that since the pandemic began youth engagement was highest when a Black staff member hosted a Zoom discussion about racial bias.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe had a ton of young folks on that call,\u201d Lambert says. \u201cThat was really their main church participation since COVID hit.\u201d<\/p>\n

Lambert \u2014 who is a millennial himself and was just 26 in 2016 when he, his wife and another couple they met in seminary founded Restore Austin \u2014 adds that he believes participation is the key to attracting Gen Z to any sort of spiritual activities.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ve seen a hunger in Gen Z for more experiential stuff \u2014 something they get to participate in rather than receive. They want to belong to a community rather than an audience,\u201d Lambert remarks.<\/p>\n

\u201cOnline is complete audience,\u201d he says. \u201cYou can\u2019t even create a facade that it\u2019s participatory. I think that\u2019s why you\u2019re seeing a drop in participation during COVID.\u201d<\/p>\n

But, since the pandemic began, whenever Restore Austin holds an online event that is both justice-oriented and participatory, Lambert adds, \u201ceven if they\u2019re online, we see the (number of) young people participating go way up.\u201d<\/p>\n

Restore Austin offers a different approach to faith in large part because that\u2019s what Lambert and the clergy always aimed to do so. He explains that they started their church to reach out to \u201cpeople who have been disenfranchised by church or disillusioned by religion \u2014 people who have what we call \u2018church hurt.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re the church for people who don\u2019t like church very much,\u201d Lambert quips.<\/p>\n

Restore Austin is unconventional in other ways \u2014 for one, it doesn\u2019t have a building. Prior to the pandemic, it set up every Sunday in a middle school in downtown Austin. After main services, congregants got into smaller breakout groups.<\/p>\n

Not having a brick-and-mortar church helps Lambert keep the congregants\u2019 focus not on a place but, rather, on the \u201cprimary beliefs that Christians have had for thousands of years.\u201d Lambert also follows a policy of \u201cfull inclusion,\u201d positioning what he calls \u201csecondary issues\u201d firmly to the side.<\/p>\n

Lambert reports that Restore Austin has seen \u201cslow but steady growth\u201d over the past four years. One of the things that he is most proud of is that 80 percent of his members are people who had abandoned church and had disconnected from organized religion before they found Restore Austin. Most of those people are millennials, Lambert adds, and about a quarter are Gen Z.<\/p>\n

Though Lambert\u2019s observes that young people aren\u2019t attending online services in large numbers \u2014 as Pew\u2019s findings suggest \u2014 his experience points to Campbell\u2019s remark that community and small groups are the key to participation. \u201cWe\u2019ve got pretty vibrant small groups on Zoom right now,\u201d he says. \u201cThe participation of young folks is way, way higher on that than it is on Sunday mornings.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Written by Mya Jaradat, originally seen on\u00a0https:\/\/www.deseret.com\/<\/em><\/p>\n

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