Here are some common perceptions about Millenials, their
money, and their relationship to the church, followed by what I believe to be
the kernel of truth in each and then a challenge to other Millenials (I’m one
of them) who are trying to live faithfully in uncertain times.
1. The church is guilty until proven innocent.
Truth - Every
thinking adult 18-118 can recite several scandals and atrocities that have
chained themselves to the public image of the church. But where older
generations might be able to juxtapose a positive image of their childhood
church or a pastor that they remember well, Millenials generally aren’t. Or if
they’re lucky enough to at least have that (as I do) it is regularly humiliated
by the majority opinion of their peer group.
Challenge – As a
generation, we pride ourselves on our ability to keep a conscious check on our
biases. But how many of us are paying attention to all the clergy collars
anywhere there is a peace protest or a rally for equality? How many of us are
thinking of Dorothy Day, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Oscar Romero, Desmond Tutu, or
Martin Luther King Jr. when we level our critiques of the church? I’m not
saying we have to turn a blind eye to the church when it screws up as our
grandparents might have been guilty of doing from time to time. Just be fair. And
at least recognize the good with the bad.
The Church is not a
Millenial’s primary clan
Truth - President
Obama was wise to promote his health care law on “Between Two Ferns” with Zach
Galifianakis not because it shares any deep resonance with his overall message
but because the sardonic irony of its presentation is code for a deeper rooted
cultural awareness. The intended message was clear: “You can trust me. I’m one
of you.” The church has no such social cachet. The churches meeting in some
hipster bar or coffee coop might be short term draw for a few, but they’re no
Regina Spektor.
Challenge - If you
want to follow Jesus but need a community more rooted than “pub theology” and
not backward like fundamentalist Christianity, and you don’t believe that your
down-to-earth neighborhood church gets you, your worldview, or your cultural
mindset; then change it. Millenials are certainly too enlightened to be ageist,
no? So give Beverly and Ethel some credit. As a pastor of multiple generations,
you’d be amazed how many Beverly and Ethel’s I’ve met who, it turns out, were
yearning for the words I had to say when, previously, I might have assumed that
I was far too radical for them. Repeatedly, I’ve been all hopped up on my
“radical Gospel” only to discover Beverly’s who are on the no fly list for
protesting The School of the Americas in the eighties and Ethel’s who have
spent decades teaching school for almost no compensation in Mali and Columbia.
Lesson learned: I’m not that radical. But I can be, if I get some skin in the
game and maybe even humble myself to learn from these people.
Millenials don’t want
to pay a mortgage and electrical bills for a church when they could be giving
directly to a cause that they care about
Truth - Fair
enough.
Challenge - This is not an either/or, and most of us
give so little to the “causes” that we say we care about, it would be laughable
to claim that it is. Beyond that, how many Millenials realize that Lutheran
Services in America is the single biggest charitable organization in America in
terms of revenue? Last fall, at the drop of a hat, my congregation raised $45,000
to bring 29 families out of extreme poverty in the central plateau. A crowd-funding
internet campaign would have required ten or twenty times as many participants
to generate that kind of investment. Why was this possible? Because we had been
paying electric bills and a mortgage so that we could gather week after week as
a community, hear stories, and develop a common vision around a God whose heart
is always first and foremost with the poor and who suffers no either/or-s when
it comes to their sake.
Millenials have no
money
Truth - Millenials
have no money, mostly.
Challenge - Giving
money away faithfully doesn’t require
a steady income and sure handle on the future. In fact, the word faithfully implies just the opposite. And
no one is asking you to compete with the empty nesters in the fourth pew whose
house is paid off, and their one child got a full ride to Yale, and now they’re
left with nothing but disposable income. A leap of faith for you might be $5
more per week out of your scarcity where another $100 to them is nothing. The
church is the only institution in our society that deals with money whose
president and CEO (forgive the language, Jesus) actually gets more excited about
the $5 than the $100 (Mark 12:41-44).
Millenials are anxious
about the future
Truth – Delayed
careers, student loan debt, housing crash; the whole bit.
Challenge - It’s
commonplace in our society for us to entrust our future to our money. The
theological term for that in which you place your future well-being is a “god.”
This nation may have spent centuries going to church on Sunday, but when it
came down to the serious business of actually surviving, Christ has never
seriously competed with our everyday financial planner for the position of high
priest. But money is a particularly unforgiving god whose mercy never overrules
his cold, calculating logic He will repossess your stuff and evict you cold and
naked the second you anger him. So Jesus’ challenge to people with money
anxieties was both counter-intuitive and elegantly logical, get rid of it. Putting
money into the plate is an act of defiance against that copper god. In some
sense, we’re literally getting rid of him in hopes of discovering a God who is
far more gracious.