Millennial hot button

When I was working at REI one of the main company-wide concerns was acquiring a larger market share of Millennials (people born roughly from the early 80s to early 2000s). REI has a fantastic customer base of older persons (trust me, I heard, "I shopped at REI when there was just one store, in Capitol Hill" a LOT), but in order to survive into the coming years when the aging customer base spends less and less, they are going to have to appeal to a younger generation. And most younger generations don't want to shop where their parents and grandparents shop. I know I didn't.

The Church keeps asking this same question, over and over again. It was the hot button topic when I was young and in church, and even though I'm not that old, it's still a primary concern. "Where are the young folk and how do we appeal to them?" 

In the first viral article this week, Rachel Held Evans, writes, 

Invariably, after I've finished my presentation (on the needs of young evangelicals) and opened the floor to questions, a pastor raises his hand and says, "So what your saying is we need hipper worship bands...." And I proceed to bang my head against the podium.

People lauded the article as "right on!" and "truth!" Then another blog went around that didn't necessarily refute Evans, but offered a ten-point list of what Millennials really want. It's a great list. Yet more than one person said, "Ummm, this seems to be what most everyone wants, regardless of age." Values such as authenticity and listening to the Spirit, being valued, being real, being actually involved in the world, these are inclinations that a lot of church-goers have, and they don't have to have piercings or blue hair to hold them.

Then, yesterday, a third blog by Brett McCracken came on the scene that questioned the basis for shape-shifting churches that become overly concerned with adapting to trends. McCracken gives some darn good reasons as to why churches should remain "un-cool." He concludes, 

As a Millennial, if I’m truly honest with myself, what I really need from the church is not another yes-man entity enabling my hubris and giving me what I want. Rather, what I need is something bigger than me, older than me, bound by a truth that transcends me and a story that will outlast me...

Many of us banged palms on the table and said, "Yes!"

Indeed, yes. Yes to all of this. Yes to the desire to discover who the next generation is. Yes to valuing who they are to the point of being concerned for whether or not we're shutting them out by the ways we "do" our faith. Yes to the openness to try new things and "always reform."  Yes to getting out of our own little age-based, culture-based religious boxes. 

For me, this whole conversation dove-tails off of recent words I've heard from sociologist Brené Brown. She says that all persons, regardless of age, race, gender, wealth, regardless of any defining factor, want to belong.

We want to belong.  

But, contrary to what most of think and practice, "fitting in," is not the way to find belonging. When I try to belong to a group the first thing I consider is how I can be more like them in order blend, and to "fit." Instead, she says, "Fitting in the greatest barrier to belonging."

Brown writes,  

Fitting in, I've discovered during the past decade of research, is assessing situations and groups of people, then twisting yourself into a human pretzel in order to get them to let you hang out with them. Belonging is something else entirely—it's showing up and letting yourself be seen and known as you really are...

In other words, real belonging requires you to be who you are. Otherwise, it's not "you" who belongs, but a figment, a shadow, of what you think others want you to be.  So "belonging starts with self-acceptance." In the case of the church there's a significant need to quit panicking about what new trends need to be adopted in order to attract  Millennials. If the church instead had a better sense of self, and a better sense of authenticity, then I think we'd have more diverse congregations. I think. 

That doesn't mean that we shouldn't learn what is important to those who are younger than us. We do this, though, to be truly interested in them as fellow humans, and not as commodities.  

In the case of REI it just might work to have young, good-looking, ripped models, and to market gear that appeals to younger tastes. In the case of really large, hip churches, the situation is quite likely the same: be like a popular rock band and the youngsters will come. But are they coming because of the scene and the ease of "fitting in", or are they coming because they belong? Are they coming because they blend, or because they can truly be themselves?

I can't argue enough for the need to be a people-group that welcomes others, in all of their imperfections, in all of their quirks, and in all their grandeur. And I don't want to fit in, I want to belong.

Walls

Several years ago I had the chance to visit Quebec City. Located in Canada, visiting here is like visiting old-world France. The food is different, the language is different, the customs are different - you know you are not in Anglo land! Quebec City was one of the original European settlements in North America, and adding to the old-ness is its status as the only walled city north of Mexico. 

The walls are impressive. The city did not suffer a siege after they were built, but they offered protection nonetheless. Today the grand walls offer history and uniqueness. What most captivated me about them, though, was their final purpose: to keep out the Americans. 

Peoples south of the border are typically unaware that the U.S. attacked our neighbors to the north in attempts to "enlist" Canadians in the fight against the British. Americans were the aggressors, Canadians the defenders. We fought our neighbors in hopes of forcing them to join in our rebellion against Britain, and in so doing, gain more colonies for a new "United States of America."

I'm sure it seemed like a good idea at the time.  

Quebec City was vulnerable to attack. The fledging U.S. was vulnerable against the British. Quebec City hunkered down, the U.S. fought. Both relatively-soon-to-be-countries resisted their vulnerabilities and did whatever they believed necessary to survive and thrive. 

We tend to do that with vulnerability: defeat it. We can wall ourselves up or go on attack. It's a human condition. 

Or is it? 

Tonight there is a gathering of people to discuss vulnerability. Brené Brown states that “Vulnerability is our most accurate measurement of courage.” The Bible states that we find strength in our weakness. Apparently vulnerability can be a good thing, it can make us more human, more compassionate, and more connected. Embracing this reality is counter-cultural, and tough. I look forward to hearing about journeys of vulnerabilities tonight, and I welcome the challenge and freedom it can bring. 

Widening the trail(s)

Echoes did a service project in the Mt Baker area yesterday. I was pumped to sign up for this one because it is my favorite fall hike: Yellow Aster Butte. A section of the trail had been wiped out due to a slide this winter. The trail maintenance crew of the previous day had cut out the path, and our job was to widen it. This entailed cutting back the brush on the upslope, then using grub hoes to cut into the slope and eventually level out the path. After a fair bit of work, the trail became wide enough to traverse, helping people to enjoy creation a bit more safely. And, the more people who enjoy the backcountry, the more who will strive to protect it. Hikers of all shapes, sizes, and ethnicities passed us yesterday as we dug in the dirt and moved rocks, most of them thanking us as they moved up the trail.

The work was enjoyable, the sun and breeze rejuvenating, the view of Baker spectacular, and the camaraderie encouraging.  

Today Echoes hosted a booth at Bellingham Pride. In a way, it's another widening of trail. Four churches and a center for spirituality had a booth. All of us were communicating in our own ways that the path on which God is found (or, more likely, the path on which God finds us) is probably wider than most of us think. The Echoes booth received a fair amount of attention because we were offering glitter tattoos. People requested hearts, stars, rainbows, wings, and the occasional name to be temporarily tattooed onto cheeks, hands or arms, illuminated by neon glitter. It was a privilege to be welcomed into the personal space of so many others, sharing paths, ever so briefly.

The work was enjoyable, the sun and breeze rejuvenating, the people-watching remarkable, and the camaraderie encouraging.  

A shapely lump of clay

Today marks the first "official" day of Echoes.  

It's been a long time coming, though. From DNA parameters, to personality and skill development, to the influence of friends and education, to having a vision for a worshipping community in which I'd like to participate, to relocating in Bellingham, to connecting with early committers, this venture of Echoes is not a whim, is not random happenstance.

In one of my pastoral education classes I was required to read the book, Glittering Images, by romance-novel-inclined author, Susan Howatch. The writing was enjoyable, and at least one message was clear: be very, very careful or self-deception and the lure of power can topple even the most well-intentioned clergy. Thus began several months of reading other books in the Starbridge series. 

In Absolute Truths, Howatch includes a brash sculptor a side character. In one scene the sculptor explains the nature of her work, the process of creating something out of a formless lump of clay. When asked about how she reconciles all the disasters in the shaping process she replies,

“Every step I take—every bit of clay I ever touch—they’re all there in the final work. If they hadn’t happened, then this”—she gestured to the sculpture—“wouldn’t exist. In fact they had to happen for the work to emerge as it is. So in the end every major disaster, every tiny error, every wrong turning, every fragment of discarded clay, all the blood, sweat and tears—everything has meaning. I reuse, reshape, recast all that goes wrong so that in the end nothing is wasted and nothing is without significance and nothing ceases to be precious to me.” (377-8)

I find that this new beginning of the Echoes community is extremely vulnerable for me. Questions swirl in my brain, "Will it survive? Will it find life outside of its vision? Will others really want to join in this alternative to traditional church?" The vulnerability, I think, comes from the origins of Echoes - it has emerged out of ALL of the bits of my life: those that have been kept and honed, and those, especially, that have been discarded.

All of the successes and failures of my life are meaningful. All of them. And all of them shape what happens today and tomorrow. All of the twists and turns of my theological convictions are included. All of my early childhood insecurities, my need for exploration, my desire to be involved in pursuits that are larger than me. All of my career failures and vocational dreams come true. And all of it, up until this moment in time, has led to the risk of starting Echoes. 

The risk may pay off big-time in the formation of a long-lasting community of faith in Bellingham that meets the spiritual and relational needs of many 'hamsters. The combination of my sculpted story, with the sculpted story of every single person who visits Echoes, with the sculpted story of Bellingham, may just combine to make Echoes into a vital, vibrant community, for such a time as this. 

And it may not. The risk may end in a quiet, diffuse, fading away. (Admittedly, I do pray that there is no loud, clanging end to Echoes!)  The fantastic part of this, the redemptive part of this, is that if Echoes does not survive long into the future, then it, too, is not lost. The fleeting days of Echoes will be discarded bits of clay that perfect the sculpture.

So, in the end, the risk is not really a risk. The vulnerability is self-constructed, and the end result will be beautiful no matter what. For I'd like to think that God is the sculptor, and God, in my estimation, is into creating beauty. The sculptor in Absolute Truths created a masterpiece, but I'd be just as happy with the lumpy horse (or is it a llama?) in the above photo. Beauty, after all, has a wide range of appreciation.