ANALYSIS of Generation Z — people born, as I was, roughly between 1997 and 2012 — has been a fixation of the media in recent months. A survey published by The Times this month explored our generation’s relationship with institutions, uncovering widespread mistrust and a distaste for national pride. Another survey, by Channel 4, found that 19 per cent of 18- to 24-year-olds would favour a strong leader not beholden to the “bother” of elections (Analysis, 7 February).
Gen Z are shunning the status quo of our parents’ generation, and desperately seeking strong leadership and clear direction. Another recent survey, conducted by OnePoll, found that 62 per cent of Gen Z identified as spiritual in some regard (Radio, 14 February). Young people are open to the idea of faith.
This should be good news for the Church, and yet many pews remain empty. For our parents’ generation, church was on the table, but faith was squarely off it: many of my non-Christian friends would attend at Christmas or Easter, but nothing more. But now, as our generation look for something bigger than ourselves of which to be part, faith has come on to the table — but church has fallen off it.
Not only is the Church seen as outdated: it has become an example of the failing institutions and traditional styles of leadership which Gen Z have come to doubt. The media are seemingly dominated by stories of poor leadership from bishops and clergy who have failed those whom they have a duty to protect. But there is also a significant communication problem: the C of E speaks a different language to a chronically online generation who are religiously illiterate.
THE communication problem is evident, most of all, through the C of E’s social-media presence. Simple graphics and millennial-esque video transitions are not enough to connect with young people. Most of the content is about informing, but not actively engaging. I am sure that this works for people like my mother, who is a churchgoer and wishes to stay up to date with the happenings at the General Synod; but to anyone exploring faith, it seems inaccessible.
Churches such as Holy Trinity, Brompton (HTB), are better at connecting with younger generations on social media. I would much rather repost HTB’s beautifully curated content, with thought-provoking questions and soothing low-fi beats, than the C of E’s reels about Anglican history or what has been going on as the Synod sits. Recent content has highlighted the goings-on in the House of Laity, which, I think, most of my friends would assume was a new reality-TV show.
Before even getting into debates over the place of liturgy or the finer details of Anglican theology, this is a generation who still struggle with the concept of “sin” and “salvation”. The rhetoric that they remember from religious-studies lessons at school (for many, the only time when they have encountered Christianity) is that of judgement and wrath. In conversations with my friends, church has become synonymous with guilt. It is not seen as a place of community or inclusion, but of ostracism and hypocrisy. As a generation who have come of age during a pandemic and a crippling cost-of-living crisis, we are all too acquainted with the reality of a fallen world. What Gen Z are looking for is a Church that will offer them leaders with integrity and a better plan for the world.
Looking to the Gospels, both Jesus’s leadership and the hope that he offers the world seem very far from the reality of organised Christianity which my generation see in the media. The Church’s reputation in the media is so important because Gen Z church attendance is staggeringly low. They are not sitting in churches or opening the Bible: they are opening Instagram and having their views formed by the snippets of news which they see on their feeds.
AND yet, Gen Z are searching for something. At my own church, we are seeing an increase in students wanting to understand what Christianity offers. Amid the rise of extremist political leaders, the spread of misinformation, and the looming threat of climate change, the Church has an opportunity to be a sturdy pillar in a crumbling society.
It has a chance to offer a message of hope to a generation who feel lost. Rebecca Chapman has previously written of Gen Z’s longing for community, and the part that older generations play in this (Comment, 17 March 2023). As a member of this increasingly connected, but increasingly lonely, generation, I wish more people at my church would read and understand this. But, as I look at my friends, the current issue I see is getting Gen Z in the Church to begin with. It is hard enough for many to trust in the Church, let alone God.
A crucial step for the C of E is to stop going on the defensive and, instead, realise that it has an advantage here. Gen Z have questions, and they are looking for answers. Unfortunately, for many they are finding this in darker forms of spirituality, with manifesting and the occult becoming part of my generation’s popular culture. But they are open to the idea that there is more. The Church needs to get itself back on the table by showing that it is approachable, and that it offers safety and clear direction.
Abigail King is a student and freelance journalist based in Edinburgh.
