The Stakes are High

And our God stories may have never mattered more

The autumn evening was crisp as we gathered around tables, telling our God stories to one another, and sharing a strange and meaningful meal. Refried beans, kombucha, mozzarella sticks, Peruvian chicken, Cajun jambalaya, and a smattering of other diverse fare was piled on our plates.

At first glance, it looked like the world’s most eclectic potluck but, because each dish came with a story of its own, it was more of a sacred supper, a sort of culinary diplomacy meant to unite the diverse people around the tables.

Photo by Morgan Winston on Unsplash

This gathering was the culmination of my two and a half years of researching, prototyping, and interviewing experts and stakeholders about why there is so much division in American Christianity and what we might be able to do about it. The resulting, research-based, thoroughly planned event was called Story Communion, which was at least the fifth title iteration I’d been through, trying to capture the essence of my doctoral project aimed at fostering kinship amid diverse Christians in America. Each moment of the gathering was infused with ritual, and each element was laden with purpose.

Many of us were strangers, and all of us felt nervous about engaging in something this vulnerable with people we didn’t know. We weren’t there for chitchat. In fact, a pre-requisite for participation in Story Communion is a pre-gathering training in which the rules of engagement are clarified and agreed upon. As we removed our shoes when we came through the door, signifying an acknowledgement that we were entering holy ground as respected equals, we understood the assignment.

We were there to engage in sacred storytelling and deep listening from start to finish. We trusted that God would be there in our midst, and we were not disappointed. One participant wept at the end, sharing that they had not had such a robust experience with God (and God’s people) in a very long time, despite attending church regularly. Another person admitted that they had been hesitant to participate at all, but their heart had been opened during the Story Communion and they felt more connected to the others present and more hopeful about Christianity in all its diversity. In a post-gathering survey, all participants stated that they felt more connected to God and others, hopeful and even excited about God’s activity and presence in the lives of others, and a desire to do something like Story Communion again.

As I gathered and processed the data, I knew we had created something special together. We’d tapped into something powerful, that just might be able to transform hearts, communities, families, and churches, one story at a time.

According to Harvard Business Review’s research on harnessing storytelling to bring about bold organizational change, the next steps (after honoring our past, which I discussed in the previous two posts) are to 1.) provide a clear and compelling mandate for change and then 2.) describe a rigorous and optimistic way forward.

When I began my research almost four years ago, my why was clear: American Christianity is increasingly divided and in need of strategies for unity to be aligned with Jesus’s deepest desire for His Church, which is oneness.

However, my why has undergone some radical changes since then, as I’ve witnessed my young adult children, and their friends, struggle with joining Christian communities and experiencing tension with identifying as Christian at all. I am interested not just in fostering kinship among Christians, but in rebuilding a faith that has been thoroughly and publicly deconstructed in recent years. 

Some might default to the convenient excuse that this younger generation simply doesn’t care about God or the transcendent, being thoroughly immersed in a virtual world of their own making. But that’s simply not true. In fact, according to Pew Research, most Americans are spiritual or religious in some way though many report the level of their religiosity has changed over time. Americans are far more likely to say they have become more spiritual than to say they have become more religious. Among U.S. adults under 30, the pattern looks like this: 15% of respondents say they have become more religious, while 42% have become less religious.

In terms of identity, according to the Survey Center on American Life, Generation Z is the least religious generation yet. More than one-third (34 percent) of Gen Z are religiously unaffiliated, a significantly larger proportion than among millennials (29 percent) and Gen X (25 percent). Fewer than one in five (18 percent) baby boomers and only 9 percent of the silent generation are religiously unaffiliated. Indeed, if recent trends continue, Christians could make up less than half of the U.S. population within a few decades, according to Pew Research.

Let me be clear. I’m not interested in making America a “Christian nation” or “taking back” our land, people, or government for Christ. Triumphal dominionism is of no interest to me whatsoever. What I’m concerned with is passing down a beautiful, true, moral, and just faith for the next generation. I want them to inherit something of substance, that will bless them and the world. I want to pass on something more faithful and grounded than “spirituality,” but also something more divine than “religion.” The research is showing that both conservatives and liberals are struggling in their own ways to retain the younger generations in their churches and that those who have a robust religious experience are more likely to stay in the faith or come back to it after leaving for a while. What does this tell us? I think it demonstrates that it doesn’t matter whether we’re talking conservative or liberal – if we aren’t experiencing God in true, real, and robust ways in our communities, we really have no reason to stay within them.

This isn’t about correct doctrine, religious dogma, ecclesial structure, or political agenda. This is about whether or not God is present and active in the world and how we can know that, experience that, and teach our younger ones how to know and experience that too. How do we know we can’t “correctly think” our way back? Look again at the data. If Christian doctrine, creeds, and tradition were inviting enough to bring people in and powerful enough to retain them in the faith, we wouldn’t be hemorrhaging like a gunshot victim in a bad hospital drama.

We are all looking for God, and for connection to others on the same journey. We are all looking for something to live for bigger, and more beautiful than ourselves alone. But we’re having a damned hard time finding it in the religious landscape of America.

And the situation is too serious to sit on anymore.

Suicide is one of the leading causes of death in the U.S.

The Surgeon General has sounded the alarm about the “Loneliness Epidemic” in our country that is a full-blown public health crisis, devastating us emotionally, physically, and spiritually.

With deep fakes, so-called experts being exposed as charlatans, conspiracy theories, and algorithmic marketing, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to distinguish truth from lies.

And the constant barrage of traumatic and terrifying “news” has left us weary, depressed, and burnt-out.

Trust is at an all-time low, according to the Edelman Trust Barometer, which gauges global economic and governmental trust.

Empathy, overall, has been dramatically lowered by our overuse of technology.

These are bleak statistics, but I share them because they underscore the why of working toward bold change in American Christianity. If we believe that Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life, and that Jesus has come so that we may have life and life more abundantly, then we must return to what has the power to unite, inspire, lift-up, teach, and challenge so that we can show how Jesus is what we’ve all been looking for.

Our God-stories are they key. Sitting down, eye-to-eye – not hiding behind our screens – and sharing what God has done for us and has been to us. Dropping the dogma, the boundary maintenance, and the us/them mentality long enough to listen deeply to God in the lives of others. Allowing ourselves to be changed by what we hear. Uniting around what is good, true, kind, and beautiful in God’s work rather than focusing on what is confusing, difficult, or disagreeable. Enjoying the variety and differentness in one another rather than sinking to our lowest level cognitive biases. Taking the younger generation by the hand and convincingly sharing with them how we’ve tasted and seen the goodness of God and inviting them to do the same – not through our programs, sermons, Bible studies, and regimented sin management programs, but through formational relationships that provide unconditional love and through the surprising power of sitting in the tension of uncertainty together.

Imagine with me.

Conservatives listening to liberal’s stories and liberal’s listening to conservative’s stories, and both believing in God in the other. Men and women sharing their unique God experiences and being unafraid of contact with one another. Children, teens, and young adults sharing where they think God is moving in their lives and having older adults affirm them and say, “I see God there too.” Allowing our proximity biases to be challenged by drawing near to one another, and seeing where this takes us. Unlikely relationships formed, oddball communities started, interesting and compelling gatherings bringing new people in. An outpouring of authentic, moral, Christian love into the world that is natural, vital, and transformational for our communities.

Storytelling really does have the power to do all of this and more. We are created by a God who has chosen to self-reveal through story and has wired our brains to live by it. The stories we tell ourselves and others reveal so much. There are few things more powerful than our individual and collective stories, and that’s why Harvard Business Review, countless social neurological scientists, theologians, philosophers, parents, and teachers have shouted from the rooftops the importance of storytelling.

My final installment of this series will bring all of this together, but until then I leave you with this quote by Paulo Coelho, author of The Alchemist:

“The power of storytelling is exactly this: to bridge the gaps where everything else has crumbled.”

May we be brave enough to know and share our own stories and to walk across the bridges that are the stories of others.