As part of our ongoing conversation about generational divides, my Millennial daughter and I have written some posts praising the positive.
Last week, I wrote on why I’m grateful for Millennials. This week, Emily is returning the favor. Because she’s so nice like that.
I Am Thankful for Your Solidity
We may harp and complain about how stubborn and old-fashioned you are, but I also appreciate how decisive you are. You know who you are, you know how you got where you are, and you don’t really give a spritz cookie about what anyone else may think.
I Am Thankful for Your Drivenness
You aren’t going to step back so easily in the face of anything from adversity to new technology. You will analyze new situations to determine how they might affect you negatively or positively, and you don’t let failures define you. You live in positivity.
I Am Thankful for Our Privacy
Technology has made privacy a difficult ideal, but one that is still important. You fight for privacy rights, even if you personally get nothing out of it.
I Am Thankful for the Hippies
So we might idealize Hippies more than we should, but we admire that ideal inside of you. It is largely in part to your protests that we have such a different outlook on war and peace today. Plus also, some great music came out of the movement.
I Am Thankful For Your Ability to Relax
You guys know how to have a good time with friends. Those whom you allow into your busy lives you hold onto for years and years. You find joy in gathering together that same group for events and parties and everyone loves showing up and investing in each other’s stories.
BONUS: I Am Thankful That You Changed Our Poopy Pants. Most Millennials had parents who fell within the Baby Boomer years. So…yeah. Thanks for that.
As a prelude to what I hope will be a series on young people, and a follow up to last week’s discussion of Growing With–I’m retuning to a favorite of mine, originally run here on the Theology Mix blog.
I have to update–statements made in the first paragraph are now invalid. My daughter taught me to play a few weeks ago. And all my assumptions that I could get addicted were accurate.
Pokémon GO will save the world
Well, that could be an overstatement. Other things are doing their share.
Still, it’s a valid hope. I don’t personally play the game. It looks fun—and I do have an inherent passion for collecting things that is totally compatible with the idea of going around catching various creatures, indexing and organizing them like my junior high insect collection that took on epic proportions. My highest StrengthsFinder score is Input–ie, collector of things. Any things, really.
\So, really, best I don’t touch the thing. I know my limits, and with time an endangered commodity in my life right now, another way to spend it should not be on the table. I will stick with geocaching when I feel the need to hunt outdoors.
However, I have trailed along as a cultural observer when others play. In the trailing, there is a tale to tell. Pokémon players are changing the lonely landscape for the better.
Fact: Millennials are the loneliest age group in America.
This as determined by researchers from the University of Cologne and the University of Chicago. They have eclipsed the presumed leaders in that race, the elderly. Their buzzword of choice may be community, but the reality is, they are finding it less and less. Blame social media, economic issues, mobility, competition, overzealous parents and ovescheduled lives, and fear of commitment. Whatever we blame, the reality is, our culture finds friendship and relationship disposable, and no one suffers more for it than the generation that learned friendship online.
Enter Pokémon. What I witnessed when accompanying my two Millennial daughters was nothing less than a modern social miracle. Dozens of young people wandered around the lakeside park. Some in groups, some alone, everyone staring at their phones. Suddenly, a random “Charmander!” rang out from across the field. Once, twice, three times. Strangers were calling others to come share the mecca of fiery creatures they had found. Other people who passed us offered up clues—“Dratini right over there.” “Go to that willow tree—there are Bulbasaur all over the place!” Everyone in the park was helping one another play the game. Something made them act as a team. Some sense of “we’re together here” permeated the area.
They are not becoming fast friends. They’re not walking away together linking arms and singing kumbaya or planning to be in each others’ weddings. But they are helping one another toward a mutual goal, with no personal gain at all.
In a particularly contentious and angry time in the US, a game on a cell phone is causing strangers to work together. This is nothing short of miraculous. We should all be standing and applauding.
Of course, we’re not. Instead, I read random rants about how young people are staring at their phones again/always and how this makes them self-centered. I see older people condescending to younger ones with broad assumptions like, “If they put this much effort into getting a job, they’d be out of their parents houses’.” Such assumptions bother me, since my children, and most players I know, are gainfully employed and/or full time students. But they bother me further, on a much deeper level, because they prove the speaker has never had a conversation with any young person. At least, not a mutually respectful one.
This matters in the church. If we care about the loneliness epidemic outside (and inside) our walls among the Millennial generation, we will care about ways to bring them together. We will want to understand how they form community and why it matters. Pokémon GO has a few things to teach us about our relationships with and continued learning from the next generation.
Pokémon GO reminds us that Millennials don’t think play and work are mutually exclusive.
Will our leadership accept that work and play often look a lot alike for Millennials, and sometimes they are doing their best innovating when they are having fun? Can we adjust our committees, classes, and teaching to reflect this?
Pokémon GO is a game. It’s also a community, a place to belong, and a network. It didn’t take players long to realize that a game can be used to meet people, learn about other cultures, find job opportunities, or shatter their Fitbit goals.
Cities report that police officers are joining the game to create relationships in their communities. People are using the social phenomenon to solve seemingly intractable problems—like racial tensions and law enforcement woes. While the lines are blurring between work and play, they are also completely blurred between fun and practical change. Will our churches follow suit, or will we retain our insistence on old methods of solving problems?
Pokémon GO reminds us that Millennials want to ask questions rather than be told where everything is and how it works.
Can our discipleship involve the kind of seeking that Millennials seem to prefer over the straight telling we have embraced for so long? Maybe we should ask more questions rather than give so many answers, so the search for being like Jesus can consume us like the search for Pikachu.
Pokémon GO reminds us that Millennials value relationships over formulas.
Can we encourage evangelism that’s more like playing games with a group of new friends than sealing a used car deal? Do all the right words mean less, ultimately, than being with another person? What would that look like in church programming?
Pokémon GO reminds us that Millennials want for a place to belong.
Will the church embrace that need and offer a balm for loneliness? Will we hold out the ultimate relationship rather than rules to live by? Will we invite them in regardless of their tribe or background or beliefs? Will we be the ones standing on the path calling, “What you’re looking for is over here! Come be with us. We understand the search. We’re with you in it. Let’s look together.”
As a pastor, I am “in a relationship” with the Fuller Youth Institute. I’m not even shy about it. In a culture that makes it challenging for our kids’ faith to thrive, I have found abundant resources for both parents and church leaders in their publications. I’m even using a number of them for my thesis project.
That’s why, when my email magically notified me they were looking for a book launch team for their next resource–– Growing With––that was one of the few emails I didn’t scroll past or trash with abandon. I applied immediately.
I mean, my tagline you can read above is” Reframed: Picturing faith with the next generation.” It’s kind of important to me.
Growing With’s subtitle– –Every Parent’s Guide To Helping Teenagers and Young Adults Thrive in Their Faith, Family, and Future––captures the thing well. The authors, Kara Powell and Steven Argue,use three verbs to help parents during the three stages of their children’s growth.
Withing––how do we relearn to actually be with our children, not simply around them?
Faithing—how do we help our kids navigate the changes in their faith with patience and optimism, realizing that our faith, too, is or should be ever-changing?
Adulting– –what tools do our kids in need to thrive in their own new life, and what is our role in supplying and them?
I won’t lie ––Growing With can be a tough read if your kids are already in their 20s, as mine are. You can’t help but notice the many things you could have done better. Yet Powell and Argue lace Growing With with grace. They are parents, too. They have made their own mistakes and are not afraid to let the readers know it. The message comes through––
We’re all imperfect humans raising imperfect humans.
We all need some help. Both generations need grace to understand that the other is still growing, learning, and making mistakes. That understanding alone it is worth the price of admission for this book.
The authors talk about the cultural changes that have made growing up in this generation far different than the world their parents knew at their age. They lay down some of the stark facts that might depress us about our children’s faith, but they also debunk some of the myths about the Millennial generation and iGen that keep parents awake at night in fear.
The clear, well-informed, and fact checked understanding of the next generations’ hopes, worries, and beliefs is invaluable to parents, grandparents, and church leaders who wants to understand what is going on in the heads and hearts of these generations.
Teachers, Guides, Resourcers
I love how the authors explain the different roles parents need to take on as their children change. Parents need to evolve from teachers to guides to resources. We can’t hope to parent a 25 -year-old the same way we did a 14-year-old. At least, we can’t hope to do it and retain a good relationship. And genuine relationships are what it’s all about for the next generation.
We need to be, as one story puts it, ”A wall they can swim back to”—a firm and sturdy place that will always support them after their forays toward and into adulthood. The writers don’t just leave us with that pithy picture, however. They give readers wonderful ways to be that wall.
The important words are verbs
I love that the writers, like our scripture writers, know that the important words are verbs. Parents don’t simply ”be with” their kids. They are withing, together. It’s a verb because it is active. We need to intentionally practice withing.
Likewise, faith isn’t a static thing we can hand off to our kids when we think they’re ready. It’s a verb we practice more than we preach. It can’t be given––it can only be lived together. This flows perfectly with the biblical view of faith. Faith is never a thing in scripture––it is always an active, living way of life.
If you’re intrigued, or if you know someone who could benefit from “every parent’s guide to helping teenagers and young adults thrive,” check out Growing With––and preorder yours now (before March 5th) to receive some very special extras as well. I know I’m going to.
A few weeks ago, my friend Terri asked if she could interview me for her author interview series. Since she is a great interview-question-maker and a great friend, I said of course!
(Also, she is a very talented photographer–she took my headshot this year in San Antonio, and I am pretty certain the shot at the beginning of her post is of Oxford from our time there last spring. I know that hallway!)
Terri asked so many good questions about the church, its future, and the leadership of young people. Since I am known around these parts as an advocate of the latter (I mean, look at the tagline right up there), I loved every one of her questions.
Many young adults have left the church. What has driven young people away?
How does the church and its people need to change to bring young people back?
I especially love the last question–you’ll figure out why when you read it!
Just part of one of my answers–I hope it makes you want to click over to the full interview.
Jesus came to forgive our sins AND to usher in the kingdom of God with redemption of everything, starting right away. He came to set a broken creation right again. They aren’t separable. Young people find this story credible and compelling. They know the world is broken. They want to help fix it. We’re not just saved from sin—we’re saved toward wholeness.
Get yourself over to her full interview here. Thanks!
2015. Many of us are probably saying good riddance to 2015. Glad to have you behind us. Let’s move on to better days. Kicking 2015 to the curb.
Many others are doubtful that better days are in the offing in 2016. The economy may be better, but the headlines are not. Our newsfeeds have become minefields. Man’s inhumanity to man has become the stuff of epic legend. Plus, it’s an election year. So there is that PTSD to look forward to.
I suspect most of the news is not really new at all. It’s just that many of us have been afforded immunity for a long while. We have been the monkeys who never had to see, hear, or feel evil. Now we do. And I have to admit, I’m not sure that’s a bad thing.
So as I pondered what to begin 2016 with, I thought, start with Jesus. OK, that’s not exactly a new thing; I hope most of what I write starts with Jesus. Plus, it’s the classic Sunday school answer.
What should I write about? Um, Jesus? Kid in the front row, for the win.
But the world wants Jesus. I truly believe this.
There is a hunger in the world for a hero. For someone who is better than we are, who is powerful enough to make things better, who offers a transcendence we crave but hardly hope to believe in.
We didn’t make a new Star Wars for nothing. It’s one, limited answer to a hunger pang we can’t satisfy.
Make no mistake – people who are wary of God-talk don’t want Jesus as we have portrayed him all too often. They don’t want sanitized Jesus. They don’t want white American Jesus. They don’t want Jesus-lite. I am convinced, though, that when people say they don’t want Jesus at all, more often than not they don’t know who Jesus is. More often than not, it’s because we’ve presented the wrong Jesus.
So what if we found out who the real Jesus is? What if we asked the real Jesus to stand up? What if, in response to all the young people leaving the church because they don’t believe in what we’re teaching anymore, we offered a Jesus they could love? A Jesus they could trust? A Jesus that did not look like us? A untamable Jesus who both loves and speaks truth with relentless purpose? Or as N. T. Wright posits,
“We might discover if we really looked a more disturbing, more urgent genius than we ever imagined.”
That Jesus they could believe in, perhaps.
Maybe that Jesus you feel like you could believe in, too.
“If Jesus was a figure of history, we can try to discover what he did and what it meant in his own day. We can try to get inside the Gospels to discover the Jesus they’ve been telling us about all along, But whom we had managed to screen out.”
So I’m going to start the year searching for that Jesus. Let’s look together. Let’s strip away all that we have added to Jesus and assumed about Jesus and attributed to Jesus and just Look. At. Jesus. It may not sound exciting. Not as rewarding as Five Easy Steps to Better Whatever. But I think we know better.
I think we’ll be surprised.
I think we’ll be uncomfortable.
I think we’ll be curious.
I think we’ll fall in love.
Anyone who comments on a post, likes my Facebook page, follows me on Twitter, or shares a post is in the running for a surprise gift each month! But please tell me you’re from the email list if you do the twitter or facebook thing, or I won’t know!