Ten years ago I was on the pastoral staff of St. James Cathedral. The Dean and the Vicar had hired me along with my wife Alison to facilitate congregational development among younger Cathedral parishioners. There were a small handful of people in their 20s and 30s who regularly attended services, but they didn’t really know each other—and there wasn’t anyone on the pastoral staff to bring them together, foster friendships, and organize education and social events. As Alison and I went about our work, older parishioners (60+) would ask us an important question: Why have our children given up on the church? I’m sure many of you have wondered about that very question.  

I’m part of what is called Generation X. Simply defined, those belonging to Gen X were born during the era of the Vietnam War; I was born when that war was raging at its height. Today I’m a Gen X anomaly. Not only do I self-identify as a person of faith, a Christian; I’m part of Christianity’s institutional structure, and I serve the church as a priest. That sets me apart from the typical Gen Xer, who has given up on the church long ago, or who never had any connection to the church in the first place. If you’re here today, under age 50, you are an exception to the norm.  

How is it that my generation, and the generation that follows—Generation Y or the “millennials”—are all too often not inside the church but on the outside, hardly even pausing for a curious glance? It’s a hard question, and the answer is complex. Theological developments, sociological influences, historical circumstances all play a factor. Important books have been written about this question. David Kinnaman is one author who has published several titles on the topic. His research focuses on the U.S. scene, but there’s much to learn about how that relates to the Canadian context. When you read Kinnaman’s work, two basic reasons rise to the surface that account for why so many folks under 50 have given up on church: irrelevance and hypocrisy.  

The church is irrelevant, so the argument goes, because it is out of touch with how modern people think. Who wants to come into a building and sit on a hard bench for over an hour, to sing old songs that are unfamiliar, and to listen to a preacher go on about stuff that no one really thinks about the next day? If people are seeking spiritual belonging, then they’re seeking a community that understands climate change as an urgent concern, welcomes those who identify as LGBTQ+, and leads the way in racial justice and decolonization. More often than not, churches do not live up to this expectation, and that’s partly why my generation thinks the church is irrelevant. Many folks my age also perceive the church to be hypocritical on several levels. For instance: How is it that the Bible states in the clearest of terms that Jesus came to bring Good News to the poor—indeed to turn the world upside down—and yet so many Christians are focused on their own social status and financial investments? How is it that too many priests and pastors, who are supposed to function as caring shepherds, have gotten caught up in patterns of abusive behavior, sometimes even criminal acts that ruin lives? This sort of wounding hypocrisy and duplicity is why many, many people are hostile to the church. It’s an enduring blight on the integrity of Christianity.  

There are others, however, who might have a casual curiosity about the church but can’t bring themselves to darken its doors. I have neighbors like this. They’re curious, even supportive in their own way, of the kind of work I do. But they simply don’t believe. And it’s not because they find arguments for the resurrection of Jesus unpersuasive or “proofs” for the existence of God unconvincing. No, people don’t believe because they don’t see the church living out its own resurrection faith. Let me say that again. People don’t believe because they don’t see the church living out its own resurrection faith. In other words, so many of my generation are like Thomas—so-called Doubting Thomas—the key figure in today’s Gospel. Thomas wasn’t opposed to the idea of the resurrection, but for him to believe that Jesus was resurrected meant waiting for material evidence. Thomas was a firm believer in death, so firm it seems that he needed to be convinced with visual evidence that Jesus had risen from the dead. Like Thomas, there are many younger people today who are not opposed in principle to Christian faith. But they want to be convinced that the church is what it claims to be. They want to trust something authentic. As long as we’re content to talk up our Easter faith without sensing the urge to live it, my generation and those after me will continue to doubt and become further disillusioned.  

What would it mean for the church to live out its Easter faith without compromise? That’s another huge question, but I think the book of Acts points us toward an answer. If you read a little beyond where today's first reading ends, we’re told that the earliest Christians “were of one heart and soul, and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common.” It reads like a radical communitarian experiment, which is exactly what it was. Even today, some monastic communities are recovering this way of life. Why did the earliest Christians live like this? Because the Good News that had changed their lives was first Good News to the poor. It meant that no one among them should remain in poverty. And so, as Acts tells us, “there was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold.” If we want to think of this as extreme, remember that it was just as radical 2,000 years ago as it is today.  

How do we, who make up the Church of St. Aidan, embody the spirit of this Easter ethic? Do those of us who own homes put “For Sale” signs on our front lawns? Some Christians have vowed never to own real estate. For us, as a very basic starter, we ought to consider the serious problem of food insecurity in our city. Food banks are being depleted faster than ever. Our friends of the parish of St. John’s Norway have started their own food bank, and they’re already having trouble keeping it stocked. Here we have gift cards for the grocery store across the street that we distribute to anyone in need.  

The next time you’re putting together your grocery list, add a few non-perishable items that you can contribute to the large basket in our narthex. Or if you shop at the Independent across the street, buy a couple of $20 gift cards and give them to the church office here. That's a basic start. Jesus proclaimed Good News to the poor, and that must be our proclamation as well, in word and deed. People are hungry. And all around us, people—especially younger people—are watching, wondering if we really are who we say we are. Let us ask God for the grace to be a resurrection people—to share all we have with those in need—for in doing so, we will be answering the words of Thomas that resound in our present day: “Unless I see … I will not believe.” Will they see? That’s up to us.