The following article is a part of the “Letters to…” series written by the 2023-2024 SOLA Writing Cohort, composed of college students and recent grads receiving mentorship to grow in their ability to express their faith through writing. The cohort members were given various prompts with the challenge to write an open letter to a specific recipient but one that would encourage and challenge a broader Christian audience. The prompt of this article is “Writing a Letter to Senior Pastors – What You Want Them to Know About Your Generation.”
A letter to John – our new senior pastor at Eden Baptist Church
Dear John,
Welcome to the UK! Thank you to you and your family for faithfully being willing to uproot your life and move to the other side of the world. We are so excited to meet you all. I write this letter in the hope it might provide a little insight into the hearts of my generation.
Firstly, I want you to imagine this. It is 2020, and we are confined to a series of national lockdowns. Finishing Zoom school for the day, I look around dejected, wondering what to do. Naturally, I reach for my phone.
With pickup after pickup, my screen time rockets. I also used a lot of lockdown time to grow an online following on YouTube. And since social media platforms do not exist in isolation, I maintained my presence on Instagram, Tiktok, Linkedin, Strava, the Bible app… (you name the social media, and I have probably been on it!)
And yet, a few months ago, I deleted some of my social media accounts permanently.
Why did I do so? For a number of reasons—mostly due to realizing the effects that social media has had on me. Thinking back, I have often struggled with maintaining friendships, preferring to cultivate online friendships or find company in vloggers who share their curated lives on YouTube—a one-dimensional and one-sided relationship.
This means that I have often been embarrassed to seek answers to difficult questions from real people who are older and wiser. Instead, I input my questions, queries, and concerns into Google search algorithms. My generation hides ourselves from honest face-to-face relationships. Rather, we find answers from someone who we don’t know and someone who does not know us either.
We place our trust in anonymous contributors’ thoughts on topics from relationship advice to other more serious issues. And just as the sea of Google pages fails to satisfy our thirst for the truth, we continue to drain minutes to hours on meaningless short videos—all in the name of a quick fix to tiredness, frustration or lack of motivation.
Others have also noted the consequences of growing up and living in this digital age (see a review by Tim Challies). In his book Digital Liturgies, Samuel James writes that the technologies of today are tools that are far from neutral. They are not harmless nor inconsequential. Instead, they actively shape and respond to their users’ desires. Echo chambers are amplified, and creativity is slowly but surely quenched.
All in all, they affect a “disembodied electronic environment that we enter through connected devices for the purpose of accessing information, relationships, and media that are not available to us in a physical format.”
Isaiah 2:8 reminds me of our condition: “Their land is full of idols; they bow down to the work of their hands, to what their fingers have made.” Our hearts are deceptive and have always been prone to wander to worship what we have created; inevitably, this worship never satisfies, and instead destroys the hearts of the worshippers.
In view of this dire prognosis, I would like to suggest a crucial role that the church can play in helping Gen Z rise above this digital domination. This relational problem requires a relational solution. Contrary to popular belief, my generation is actually incredibly eager to glean wisdom from those who have lived a little (to many more) years than us. It’s just that at times, we are just a little shy to make the first move.
Last summer, while I was in the United States for an internship, I was anxious going into my first Sunday visiting a new church not knowing anyone. However, I was overjoyed when I was welcomed and embraced by a slightly older Christian on my first Sunday at Trinity Baptist Church in New Haven. She took me out for lunches, bubble tea, bible studies, and a church theology group. She even invited me to her home and cooked me a Korean feast. I was overwhelmed with the sisterly love, concern, and hospitality (from a fellow Gen-Z-er!) that was so undeservedly shown to me.
My experience in New Haven only lasted for six weeks. But my story is not uncommon, as young adults often uproot and live in brand new contexts, whether that be for university, work, or other temporary pursuits. So a pair of welcoming arms and an open community eager to bring in the young foreigner into their church family makes all the difference. Rather than hiding behind our screens, we are enveloped in real relationships where we can ask our questions to those people who have so graciously opened their lives to us.
Wouldn’t it be fantastic to have a church culture where more families spontaneously invite young people into their homes and lives? And where students can train in the ministry of hospitality by example? Relational solutions require precious time and energy, yet the rewards are beyond measure. The church can play its part in solving this dire prognosis of isolation and lack of face-to-face real relationships within Gen Z’s hearts.
Through the power of the Spirit, the church must exemplify the Christ-like love—shown through action—which God first showed us. A home-cooked meal after church on a Sunday, a mid-week coffee, or simply a sincere “How are you?” means more to us than is realized.
Life is not a solo but a chorus. We live in relationships from cradle to grave. I pray that you and your family will also be enveloped with the warmth and love of church family and good community from the moment you arrive and forevermore.
Yours sincerely,
Rosia