How to Respond to the New "Rise of the Nones"
An article appearing on the Gospel Coalition website has predicted that the crisis created by the Covid-19 pandemic may have a dramatic effect on Christianity, especially in the U.S. “Coronavirus Could Kill Consumer Christianity” argues that the effects of the crisis will have a purging effect on our ranks. As a result of this crisis, adherents with a consumerist mindset – that is, people whose church involvement is based on what they get on Sundays – will drift away from engaging with church.
If this happens (and I think it will), it will only accelerate trends that have been in place for several years. A few years ago, the Christian blogosphere blew up with the news that “nones” accounted for 20% of the adult population in the U.S. That means that in a survey or on a form, one out of five American adults, when asked about their religious affiliation, would scroll past “Protestant,” “Catholic,” and “other religion” and choose “none,” no religious affiliation. (I recently heard that this number has now climbed into the 30% range.)
The TGC article forecasts that there are many people who attended churches in the past who just won’t come back when services are resumed, further accelerating the trend. If these cultural Christians do come back to church, it will be only for the sake of social compliance; they’ll come to church on special occasions, mostly to accommodate the wishes of their loved ones (Christmas, Easter, a baptism, Mother’s Day, a children’s program). In other words, the absence of the “nones” will become even more obvious.
How can you recognize a “cultural Christian”? How can you tell if you or a loved one is a “cultural Christian”?
I think there are a couple of tell-tale signs:
A cultural Christian thinks about church the way a consumer thinks about a brand.
I remember hearing a realtor say once that he attended a certain church because of the contacts he could make there. The people who attended that church were the kind of people who would make good clients. His adherence to that body of believers had nothing to do with his spiritual life; for him, church attendance was all about commercial opportunity.
Most cultural Christians are not so obviously mercenary in their motives. Most will think in terms of “being fed” or feeling comfortable with the style of the music. But the principle is the same: a cultural Christian’s relationship with a local fellowship is transactional rather than organic.
A cultural Christian’s allegiance to a local fellowship is not like a family relationship; it’s more like brand loyalty. So long as needs are being met, the transactional relationship can continue. When those needs are no longer being met, or when another option appears that might better meet those needs, it’s time to switch brands (move on to another church).
A cultural Christian’s loyalty to his local fellowship is based on family tradition.
Christian leaders have long been aware of the exodus of young adults from the church. The story is alarmingly typical: a kid grows up in Sunday school, VBS, church youth group, maybe even Christian school. His outward compliance makes him look like a genuine believer. He knows the Bible, he has a salvation story, and he can carry on a spiritual conversation.
If you were to ask him if he is a Christian, he wouldn’t hesitate to say yes. And he wouldn’t be lying. He sincerely believes that he is a Christ-follower because of what he knows and what’s he’s accustomed to doing.
But then shortly after he leaves high school, it looks as if he is beginning to drift. Now that he’s away at college, he will attend church only if he really wants to, not because his parents compel him, not because the whole family is going, not because he will see his friends at church. And to make matters worse, if he does want to get involved in a fellowship, he has to find a church and go through that awkward stage of being the new guy.
In one sense, this is a decisive moment. If that young man loves Jesus, he will want to find other Christians for fellowship, he will want to hear the Word being preached and taught, he will want to use his gifts in service to his new Christian family, and he will make that happen.
But in another sense this moment is more revelatory than decisive. Though he doesn’t know it, the cultural Christian made this choice long ago. In this crucial period when he is establishing n new life patterns in college, the cultural Christian will realize that there’s never been any real inner urge to celebrate the goodness of God with the people of God. And it will become increasingly obvious that being involved with other believers isn’t a priority for him. He might go to his home church with his family when he’s back home, but for him the whole of his Christian practice is an exercise in conforming to family expectations.
The same thing will happen to many cultural Christians when the church doors reopen. It might not be obvious to them until then, but they will at some point realize that their allegiance lies elsewhere, that their spiritual life was really only a kind of performance art, and that they really don’t need what they were getting at church. They will realize that they’ve lost a vital interest in worship and the Word and Christian fellowship, and they just won’t come back.
I think it’s safe to assume that my readers are not cultural Christians, so the question we must think about is how to respond when we realize that our loved ones – our adult children, our spouses, our friends – were Christian in name only, and the crisis has now made that clear to them and to us.
1. Thank God for the clarity. I wrote a few weeks ago about the clarity that crisis brings. This crisis will surely reveal to everyone (us, our loved ones, everyone) how serious we are about our faith and how deep our roots are. It is not a bad thing that we begin to see for ourselves and reveal to others where we really stand with regards to our faith.
I have long thought that a man who says he doesn’t believe in God is miles ahead of the man who says he believe in God because that’s what is expected of him. Clarity on this vital matter will serve us all well.
2. Remember that God is writing the story, and He knows the last chapter. Even if it looks as if our loved ones are straying, even walking away from the faith, we must not give up hope. God knows where the trajectory of their lives will lead, and He will continue to work in their hearts, even when we are not with them.
Over my four decades as a high school teacher, I often saw squirrely high school boys later on grow into sober-minded men of God. After I had met some of those godly young men as adults, I had a new hope when I was dealing with the under-achievers and mischief-makers in my classroom. I knew from experience that God could cultivate godly zeal and spiritual depth in even the most unlikely places.
3. Don’t fall into Pharisaical despair. It will be easy to throw up our hands in despair and fall back into a self-righteous posture. That is deadly for two reasons. One is obvious: the toxicity that a self-righteous mindset brings into our hearts.
But the other is that we can find ourselves playing the role of the elder brother when the prodigal does come to his senses. Mirroring the grace that God has shown to us, we need to be ready to put away the “I told you so” speeches and welcome the prodigal with open arms and open hearts.
As we return to our churches and see the results of our time apart, let’s not be dismayed when familiar faces don’t come back. Instead, let’s dedicate ourselves to the work God has given us: making disciples, encouraging one another to put our trust in our covenant-keeping God, loving the stranger.
And let’s trust the Lord of the harvest to do His good work in our lives and in the lives of our loved ones.
Paul Pyle
Discipleship Pastor
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