Over the years, I have found myself teaching faith, grace, and love, but practicing something very different. The way I lived my faith and led others contradicted what I was teaching or even believing.
When it became obvious a couple of years ago that the youth who grew up in the church were experiencing a lot of trauma, I asked myself many questions. I went back over the lessons taught, the retreats, conferences, etc, and I wondered where we had gone wrong. This caused many sleepless nights, but it was a necessary process.
My own children expressed their concerns, as we were all trying to figure out what happened. I have to give the youth the credit. They did not approach this with resentment or venom. They were just as puzzled as I and other parents were. But they did speak up. I was also very distressed as I kept hearing testimonies that contradicted everything I had hoped to see in the church as the next generation reached adulthood.
I started reflecting. I may have taught a lesson on grace — and I certainly did! — but then I would go back to speaking about excellence, having high standards and high expectations. The examples I would highlight would be stories of success, victories, and commitment. So the practice did not match the teaching. And dare I say, I was not the only one. Faith was not really faith; it was reaching for the sky, which is different from deep and real faith. As my friend Roy says so well, “It was fear with a Jesus sticker slapped on.”
The church was “bent on conquest,” striving for growth and forever aiming higher. As soon as a goal was reached, another would be set. There was no respite, no break, but instead, a neverending push to do more, be more, and get more. It is exhausting, and the long-term damage is real (I switched to the present tense as it is still happening). That type of pace is not sustainable.
You say, well, others did fine. We did fine ourselves! Again, we have to put ourselves in the shoes of these young people who grew up in church. Many have sensitive souls and they trusted everything we told them. They took everything to heart. They did not have the type of life to build resilience the way we did, and that is a good thing. They are much better people than we were. They are more compassionate, empathetic, and generous. They are also more sensitive and kind, so they get hurt more easily. They are also smarter, so they see garbage and dysfunction before we do, and they call it out.
And if I am honest (I try to be), I felt the dissonance personally also. Up until 2020, I would often fear going to hell. I was not good enough to make it. I think many of us in the older generation have felt that way. It was not just the youth. Fortunately, in the last couple of years, my perspective has shifted, and I have freed myself from those shackles. I was always told that the only thing that mattered was what happens after death. I never really bought into that as someone passionate about justice on earth, but now I am very comfortable with my position of caring for people right here right now, and the afterlife will take care of itself.
If we teach faith and grace, then we also have to live it out. And if we don’t teach faith and grace, then we need to repent. The message we preached in the '90s does not work 30 years later. It is a different world and a different generation. The message was not even Christlike to start with. It had more to do with a Western corporate model than an Eastern profound and sustainable ethos of peace. And if there were a lot more love and empathy in our message, I suspect we would reach the youth in a more effective way. — Nadine Templer
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Of special interest to members of the Church of Christ, Nadine adds: A few days ago I listened to my friend Roy’s podcast episode on this topic (click on the link). I would strongly encourage you to listen to it (it is only 30 min long). As a young adult who grew up in church, he explains so well and so passionately where things went wrong. His testimony is a reflection of what I hear every day from young people.
