Perspective: Gen Z is starved for spirituality. That's reason for hope
Similar trends among young adults have been documented outside of the United States. In Western Europe, Gen Z is more likely to attend church than their parents or grandparents. In the United Kingdom, they are half as likely as their parents to identify as atheists. At the 2024 Lausanne Global Congress — arguably the largest global gathering of Evangelicals ever to congregate — leaders focused on Gen Z as the next generation to advance the gospel and faithfully address the challenges confronting the global church. A similar focus on Gen Z was evident at Gather25, a day-long broadcast service that attracted approximately 7 million participants across the globe.
In matters of religion broadly and Christianity specifically, the focus on our younger generation is warranted.
In February 2023, a routine 50-minute chapel service at Asbury University in Kentucky did not stop for 16 days. This unplanned 'outpouring' hosted approximately 50,000 guests, many of whom were young adults. We documented visitors from approximately 280 other colleges and universities representing 39 states. As they came to the altar, the prayers of students predictably fell into one of four categories: anxiety, depression, suicidal ideation or addiction. Referring to their raw and desperate prayers, a colleague said, 'If we had the spiritual eyes to see it, we would see an altar covered with loosened chains.' The event came to be known as 'the Asbury Revival.'
Why Gen Z? After all, this generation has been described as skeptical of institutions, discipled by phones and social media, and characterized by depression and anxiety. On the surface, they seem an unlikely cohort for spiritual revival.
The answer might be found in the ideas of 20th-century Scottish pastor James Stewart, who suggested that awakenings begin with desperation. And young adults are desperate. I believe there is a soul-starved meaning vacuum across the U.S., even the world. And this meaning vacuum is acutely felt by younger generations.
As the most marketed-to generation in history, students are not interested in yet another opinion. Rather, they are pulled toward what they perceive as genuine. It is little surprise that this is a generation that elevates and prioritizes authenticity. They want something steadfast and real to which they can anchor themselves amidst the dynamism of this moment. '[Y]oung people … are craving some kind of structure of how to orient themselves and their lives,' says British author Freya India.
Reflecting on 'outbreaks of spiritual fire,' Kyle Richter and Patrick Miller of the Gospel Coalition write: 'Gen Z is spiritually starved. The disorienting circumstances of the last three years … [have] created a famine of identity, purpose, and belonging. Gen Z is hungry for the very things the empty, desiccated temples of secularism, consumerism, and global digital media cannot provide, but which Jesus can.'
Commenting on some of the commitments we have seen among students over these past few years and a general wave of student spiritual interest documented across U.S. college campuses, my wife remarked that Gen Z may be more willing to 'die to themselves' because, in some ways, they are already half-dead. In other words, the spiritual diseases of modern life are slowly eroding the souls of our up-and-coming generation. We are dying from mind-numbing addictions to technology, the binary grid of partisan politics, a proliferation of pornography, the empty promises of consumerism, reality-escaping drugs, a want of community, crumbling social bonds, loneliness, mistrust and paranoia, and tribal contempt.
This is a desperate generation, desirous of hope and change. This is why Robert Cunningham, founder and director of Christ for Kentucky, said Gen Z is 'ready to follow the Jesus whose following is changing the world.'
As president of the university, I am frequently asked about Asbury's campus in the wake of February 2023. What are things like now? Are students more spiritual? Have we seen change? The answer is yes — there is a blessed and encouraging spiritual residue evident throughout our campus. However, I am always quick to encourage people to broaden their outlook. Across the United States and across the world, and entirely consistent with the Religious Landscape Survey, I believe the next generation is poised for something different.
Political scientist and religious statistician Ryan Burge has long covered America's religious decline and the rise of those claiming no religious affiliation over the past 30 years. 'But things are changing,' he says. 'We are stepping into a new room.' I think he's right. And Gen Z teens and young adults are leading the way.
Kevin Brown is the 18th president of Asbury University in Wilmore, Kentucky.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Business Insider
10 hours ago
- Business Insider
'Fawning' is Gen Z's new fight-or-flight response
Meg Josephson grew up as a people-pleaser. Raised in a home she describes as volatile, she remembers monitoring her father's reactions, desperately trying to smooth tensions over. "Being a perfectionist and being kind of always on was very protective for me," Josephson told Business Insider. "It was the one thing in my control to kind of keep my dad's moods at bay." Once she left home, however, she realized that people-pleasing was her default response, even when no one was actually mad at her. It was when she started going to therapy herself that she learned how much she relied on the fawn response to fear — placating instead of entering fight, flight, or freeze. Healing from her fawning inspired her to become a therapist. Now, she said, many of her Gen Z clients and social media followers seem to especially struggle with people-pleasing. "Social media and digital communication have played a huge, huge, huge role in the Gen Z fawn response," Josephson said. Online life magnifies rejection and makes it so much easier to seek validation, meaning Gen Zers with people-pleasing tendencies can get stuck in a never-ending, approval-hunting loop, she said. Josephson titled her upcoming book " Are You Mad at Me?", out August 5, because she hears it so often in everyday conversations. Luckily, being a people-pleaser isn't a fixed trait, she said. Even Gen Zers can shed that identity — if they're willing to let it go. Warpspeed rejection The classic precursor for people-pleasing is if you were If being raised in a dysfunctional environment s or by emotionally immature parents. contributes to people-pleasing behavior, That wouldn't make Gen Zers are not a unique generation. Reactive or abusive parents have existed forever. Still, it's the online world Gen Zers grew up in that primes them to feel abandoned more often, triggering a need for reassurance that their relationships are stable. "There are so many ways to connect now, and because of that, there are so many ways to feel forgotten," Josephson said. While past generations were limited to in-person interactions, letters, or phone calls, Gen Zers can feel validated — or rejected by — so much more. Their best friend not "liking" their Instagram photo. A crush leaving their DM on read. A group of their friends posting a Snapchat without them. This can lead them to fawning, which Josephson considers "almost a more modernized threat response" compared to fight or flight. An unanswered text may not be frightening enough to trigger physically running away, but it can pressure someone to send more clarifying texts in the frantic hope that their friend isn't upset with them. The fawn response, at its core, is "I need this external validation to know that I'm safe," she said. To complicate matters even more, online life is both rife with posts about how people should behave and opportunities to be misunderstood. "We don't hold a lot of room for nuance because we want digestible, short, snappy information," Josephson said. She said one of the first steps to healing is realizing that we're all inundated with high expectations, heightening "this ridiculous standard that we hold ourselves to internally." An endless supply of reassurance Perpetual people-pleasers might fall into a common trap: rampant reassurance-seeking. It can look like texting "Are you mad at me?" to a friend or asking your partner if they're still into the relationship. Validation-seeking can become a cycle because "we're getting this relief for a split second," Josephson said. But done in excess, it can strain relationships, she said. Disorders like relationship OCD, for example, can manifest as constantly needing positive feedback from a romantic partner — an ultimately unsustainable dynamic. Some people ask the group chats to weigh in on their Hinge date, post about their friends in anonymous forums, or even consult ChatGPT. Still, Josephson said that too much outsourcing is a bad idea. AI, in particular, is a dangerous crutch. ChatGPT "does have the intelligence to validate, but because it's not a real relationship with a real person, there's a limitation," Josephson said. The chatbot may empathetically respond with all the reasons your friend probably isn't mad at you, but probably won't tell you that you're asking that question way too often. There are over 140 million TikTok posts about being a people-pleaser. While social media posts can help identify and relate to a problem, they can also nudge people into viewing their people-pleasing as a permanent personality trait. Josephson said that she works with clients to move away from labels that can keep them stuck. "It's not an identity, but rather it's a self-protective pattern," she said. "It's this younger part of you that has learned to be on high alert to manage people's moods as a way to protect you, but that doesn't mean you always need protecting now." One of the best starting points is pausing — putting the phone down or taking a beat in the middle of a heated conversation. A moment of mindfulness, "even if it's just for 10 seconds," can help you acknowledge the fear without immediately reacting to it, Josephson said. "If you're oversharing because you want to feel understood, pause. What do you actually want to say, versus what's coming from a place of fawning?" Done consistently, this practice becomes the stepping stone for other habits, like tolerating discomfort in a conflict or setting boundaries. You might still end that pause in the same place — worrying that you've unknowingly angered someone. The difference is in what you'll do next.
Cosmopolitan
2 days ago
- Cosmopolitan
Data Shows That Young Women Are Just as Lonely as Men
A few years ago, my mom and I had a blowout fight. I can't recall what sparked the argument, but what I do remember is lying on the bathroom floor and sobbing as I scanned my texts for someone to reach out to who could keep me distracted from all the sadness. In my phone were the names of dozens of girls I met during my time at college, when I was rotating through late-night clubbing, brunches, and concerts in an attempt to get closer to people I hoped would one day be bridesmaids at my wedding. But truthfully? These friendships were superficial—nothing like what I watched and coveted in the TV show Girls. I couldn't rely on them during a panic attack. And if you can't call a friend at 10 p.m. on a weekday when the snot coming out of your nose has made you unintelligible, are they even a friend? I am a successful 21-year-old who is a published journalist and works a good, degree-aligned job. I live happily in New York City. I work out, love nature, and have a great boyfriend. The only thing missing? Friends. I lack them, and although this feels almost radical to confess these days, I know for a fact I'm not alone in it. Today, lonely women like me abound, and the data backs this up. About 1 in 6 Americans say they feel lonely or isolated from those around them all or most of the time, according to the Pew Research Center. The Campaign to End Loneliness goes one step further, finding that people under 30 are the loneliest age group and that women are significantly more likely to be chronically lonely than men. I have often dreaded the end of the workday when I'd find myself faced with the prospect of an evening spent alone. However, judging by recent media coverage, you'd be forgiven for thinking that loneliness is almost exclusively experienced by young men. Whether it's through stories of perpetually online Joe Rogan–devoted incels lashing out in anger over their own inadequacies or average guys who lack the tools needed to deal with their feelings, the message around loneliness is that it's affecting men at alarming rates—and we should all be concerned, especially when social isolation leads to violence and extremism in men. 'The epidemic of loneliness is hitting men hardest,' a Los Angeles Times op-ed from last year posits. 'Is the Cure to Male Loneliness Out on the Pickleball Court?' asks the New York Times. 'Are men okay?' wonders Vox. Earlier this week, the conversation on male loneliness was reinvigorated thanks to a New York Times article on 'mankeeping.' According to the Times, this is 'the work women do to meet the social and emotional needs of the men in their lives, from supporting their partners through daily challenges and inner turmoil to encouraging them to meet up with their friends.' Not only are women alarmed that the men in our lives are friendless, but it appears we feel responsible for helping them feel less alone. In pointing to a real problem, this media coverage glosses over another issue. Women's struggles with loneliness can be just as if not more severe than men's, but female isolation is rarely the topic of think pieces or trend stories. Are women okay? Some of us aren't, but when we're not occupied with 'mankeeping,' it's up to us to mitigate our own social anxiety. 'Women take on an especially high level of pressure and urgency to feel a deep connective tissue in a friendship,' Alyssa Petersel, LMSW, CEO of the therapist-match platform MyWellbeing, tells me in an interview. 'Women tend to view loneliness as a personal failure, but men, broadly speaking, are more likely to externalize the feeling (what's wrong with other people?) or not recognize it at all.' And while, according to Petersel, men may feel like 'their cup is full' after bonding with friends over concrete activities like watching sports, for women it's all about quality versus quantity. Even with a high weekly volume of lunch dates or Pilates meetups, we don't feel truly satisfied until our standard for a friendship's depth is met. 'Female loneliness is often existential: I know a lot of people, but who really knows me?' echoes Los Angeles–based clinical psychologist Dr. Lauren Kerwin. That's not to say men can't feel a mismatch between the friendships they have and the friendships they want to have, but the experts I talked to say men are less likely to blame themselves for it. 'There's a persistent cultural script that women should be naturally good at friendship. Lonely men may be socially accepted, even expected, but lonely women often carry shame,' says Kerwin. This pervasive loneliness has deep roots in art and culture. Reclusive and brilliant writers like Emily Dickinson or Emily Brontë described their own isolation at a time when women often couldn't work outside the home, gain a university education, or own property. Instead of going out to a tavern with a friend (unheard of) or bonding with coworkers, most of us could be found taking care of (ahem, 'mankeeping'?) our husbands by tending to their meals, trousers, and mood swings. In the process, we learned how to hide behind the mask of a seemingly perfect life—the magna cum laude college honors, say, or the beautiful photos on social media—which is one reason female loneliness hasn't seemed like an epidemic. The media, our partners and families, and the broader culture rarely see cause for concern or theorize about how to enhance our lackluster social lives. And so we are left to forge ahead on our own. Despite my efforts, I have struggled to tolerate superficial initial connections that (I assume) would slowly evolve into the close-knit, know-everything-about-your-life bonds I've seen and envied on TV. I don't want to talk about the merits of a new facial salon downtown or what's worth getting at the Alo Yoga sale, and so I don't even try. Still, I'm not okay with being a recluse. New York's beauty lies in the fact that you can find everyone here, and it stings not to have people tuned to my frequency. I have found a solution to all this, however, and it's fittingly retro. Bella and I became pen pals in 2020, at the age of 17, as part of Rachel Syme's Penpalooza letter-writing program. At its peak, the exchange had 10,000 members from over 75 different countries. Some pairings lasted for only a letter or two and others, like ours, are still ongoing. While I long for in-person friendships, as of right now, this long-distance platonic confidante knows my heart better than any of my lackluster college connections. Bella is a month older than me and also a journalist. In our early letters, when she was living in Florida, I used my best stationery to tell her about college applications, nature walks, and Covid-era existential crises. She wrote to me about the lake outside her window and the independent magazine she helmed. Bella lives in Spain now. We've only met once IRL. We can't share the joys of post-work drinks, trips to bookstores, or getaways to the beach on the Q train. At first, because of the distance, I didn't want to burden her in darker moments, like that post-fight meltdown on the bathroom floor. Week after week though, I felt giddy when running to my mailbox. Emily Dickinson lived a solitary life. Letter writing was also great joy for her—maybe because it let her express things she could never say out loud. 'This is an ode to all the girls we've been together,' Bella wrote in a card after I moved in with my boyfriend, accompanied by roses. The gesture made it feel as if she were in the apartment with us. So, in the tradition of deep and thoughtful long-distance correspondences between women who feel like they were born in the wrong century, I have come to realize true friendship doesn't require proximity. While the digital realm can be hazardous for isolated young men who stumble onto the manosphere, for lonely women like me, it's still a lifeline. Meeting Bella taught me that sometimes the best platonic connections live over 3,500 miles away but will still celebrate your wins, offer clarifying pushback when you're being stupid, and meet every new version of you with open arms. So while the media may never obsess over the fate of lonely letter-writing girls like me, thanks to modern technology, old-fashioned modes of correspondence, and a hefty dose of female resilience, there's still hope for us.
New York Times
2 days ago
- New York Times
Do Your Neighbors Trust You?
Whether you're in a city, a suburb or a rural area, living among people you trust can mean the difference between calling a locksmith in an emergency or knocking on the door of a neighbor whom you've given a spare key. But how much do we trust our neighbors? According to a recent Pew Research Center survey, which asked nearly 9,500 American adults whether they know and trust the people in their neighborhood, the answer often has to do with race and ethnicity, age, income, education level and, to a lesser degree, political views. The survey found that 44 percent of respondents trusted most or all of their neighbors, a decline from previous years. In 2015, for example, it was 52 percent. Demographic similarities were found to increase levels of trust. In 2025, half of respondents reported racial or ethnic similarities with their neighbors, while 38 percent reported similar levels of education with them and 23 percent reported similar political views. But when it came to actually acting like a good neighbor, the majority of respondents indicated a high likelihood of performing neighborly tasks, even when not expecting the same level of enthusiasm in return. The survey showed that 76 percent were 'extremely likely' or 'very likely' to bring in mail or water plants for out-of-town neighbors; only 52 percent believed others would reciprocate. In the case of a sick friend or neighbor, 67 percent said they were 'extremely likely' or 'very likely' to show up with a meal in hand, while 42 percent believed a friend or neighbor would do the same for them. 'People imagine the best of themselves, but generally have less charitable assumptions about other people,' said Laura Silver, associate director for global research at the Pew Research Center. But if the survey is any indication, your neighbors may like you more than you realize. There may be help next door A Pew Research Center survey found that people were willing to do more for their neighbors than they expected their neighbors to do for them. Say others are extremely or very likely to do it for them Say they're extremely or very likely to do it for a neighbor Task Take in mail or water plants 76% 52% 72% Conserve water or electricity if asked by public officials 42% 67% 42% Take a meal to a sick neighbor or friend Say others are extremely or very likely to do it for them Say they're extremely or very likely to do it for a neighbor Task Take in mail or water plants 76% 52% 72% 42% Conserve water or electricity if asked by public officials 67% Take a meal to a sick neighbor or friend 42% Source: Pew Research Center By The New York Times
