At a recent denominational meeting, the issue before delegates from affiliated churches across North America was same-sex marriage. The debate had been long in coming, partly prompted by two LGBTQ+ affirming churches in the Christian Reformed Church (CRC), a Protestant denomination, ordaining women in same-sex marriages to the office of deacon. On the table was a motion that would make official and binding the position that sexual activity is rightly reserved for marriage between one man and one woman.
The motion prompted extensive and at times emotional discussion. Some speakers opposed the motion. They encouraged gentleness, grace, and understanding toward those desiring a same-sex partner, and reminded fellow delegates how corrupt and hypocritical some Christians have been in teaching about sexual ethics. Others supported the motion, believing that certain moral strictures are both good and biblical.
Among the latter group was a pastor who spoke of the importance of repentance. Christ’s call in the book of Revelation for churches to repent of their particular sins, including sexual sins, also applies to us, he said. Another pastor noted, with sadness, how rare and countercultural true repentance and submission to church authorities is today. “We moderns like to tear down walls and we hate submission,” he observed.
Throughout church history, comments like these (made at the most recent CRC synod meeting) would be seen as ordinary and unremarkable. In this case, though, there was indeed something striking about them. For the two speakers mentioned were not among the wizened heads at the denominational meeting: they were both relatively young pastors. In the end, these two, and other like-minded CRC members, carried the day. A disproportionate number of delegates who were fairly young or new to the denomination successfully passed the statement codifying a traditional Christian view of human sexuality.
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Sign up and get our daily essays sent straight to your inbox.At first blush, this episode might seem surprising and counterintuitive. Is it not the young who are to lead their foot-dragging elders toward the right side of history, toward progressive views on social and cultural issues including human sexuality? In American society as a whole, young people do indeed tend to support LGBTQ+ affirming stances and other features of the sexual revolution that since the mid-twentieth century have prompted greater social and political equality for women and liberalized attitudes toward sex. But what about within the church? How have churchgoing young people responded?
In this sub-population of young people still attending church, it appears that the two traditionalist young pastors represent something of a trend. In their denominations and elsewhere in the church, some progressive Baby Boomers have been caught by surprise at younger people not sharing their cultural values. But should they have been surprised at this generational rift in the church? Looking at how different generations have been formed morally, socially, and culturally may help address this question.
From Progressive Boomers to Conservative Millennials
Both at recent denominational meetings and in various online forums, many Baby Boomer progressives in the CRC have shared personal stories of growing up in rigid conservative communities in the 1950s, 60s, and 70s where they say law crowded out grace. The experiences of the civil rights and women’s movements clearly were formative in their development as young adults. They came to value individual freedom and authenticity and to be on the lookout for unjust or arbitrary authorities. For them, these traits are central to what it means to be a Christian. As these Boomers contributed to the growth of the denomination in the 1970s, ’80s, and early ’90s, they took on administrative positions and served on important committees and task forces. Unsurprisingly, the tone and mood of the CRC were shaped by their experiences and understandings.
This population sees a clear and appropriate line to be drawn from the inclusion of racial minority groups and women within the church to the inclusion of members of the LGBTQ+ community. This is merely a continuation of practicing the radical hospitality of Jesus toward the marginalized, they say. All One Body, a progressive organization established to move the denomination toward LGBTQ+ affirmation, explains that its mission is to “challenge the voices of fear and accusation that condemn and exclude, that marginalize some and privilege others.” A retired minister strikes a similar note in linking all forms of marginalization and oppression by the church: “There have been so many forms of oppression, past and present: disabled and abled, poor and rich, female and male, and just as certainly, genderqueer and heterosexual.” Whatever one calls this philosophy—social justice, identity politics, intersectionality—it is clear that Boomer progressives are among those who have been shaped by it.
Like almost every other religious denomination, the CRC has lost members in recent years, among them young people. However, those in younger generations who have remained in the denomination or joined it recently see themselves as being formed in a different America than their Baby Boomer elders. Gen X and Millennials have seen the influence of cultural progressivism for most of their lives—whether they hail these changes, bemoan them, or fall in the middle. True, some churches have remained resistant to the broader culture. But in most settings—workplaces, professional organizations, civic and neighborhood organizations, schools, the military—the changes are clear. For much of their adult lives, Gen X and Millennials have been asked to share their pronouns and participate in sensitivity trainings to reflect on the problems of power and privilege.
Because of Boomers’ formative experiences, many of them came to see ritualistically stating “love is love” and sharing their pronouns as exciting developments, newly relevant ways to love their neighbor. But younger generations who are already familiar with these practices and with the public religion of inclusion are not necessarily awe-inspired by them. Instead, for many, these progressive social rituals bring to mind something between heavy-handed schoolmarm discipline and a required pinch of incense to Caesar.
Because those in younger generations have seen respect for authority, institutions, and traditional values erode during their lifetimes, many of those who have remained in the church seek social and cultural goods different from what their Boomer elders value. For instance, one of the reasons for recent disagreements within church denominations has to do with different understandings of the place of morality in private and public life. In recent years, many Christian writers have testified about the excessive, hypocritical, and even cruel ways in which they have experienced moral authority and instruction. This has become a cottage industry in parts of the blogosphere and publishing world. Support groups have emerged online for “exvangelicals” and those who seek to deconstruct traditional Christian mores. In these circles, one often hears personal stories relating to human sexuality, for instance, about dating, premarital sex, the excesses of “purity culture,” and condemnations of those who are same-sex attracted.
The message of such writings is clear: beware of legalistic moralizers. But this instruction does not seem entirely relevant now to all listeners, two generations downstream of the sexual revolution. Although one hopes and prays that the dissolving effects of this social movement have been minimal in the church, sadly this is not always the case.
Factors like inclusion, acceptance, and openness feel like cheap discipleship for many who have grown up in mainstream society during the past generation and who are inclined to take religion seriously.
De-Christianizing and the Sexual Revolution’s Specter
In our time, those who experience the reverberating effects of infidelity and moral libertinism do not write as many blog posts and popular books as their cultural counterparts. Still, there are stories out there for those who wish to hear them. At times, the flotsam and jetsam of the sexual revolution come to the surface in the midst of a personal conversation. I cannot be the only teacher who has had the experience of getting to know a student who haltingly shares about the pall that infidelity or divorce has cast over their family. At the Christian university where I teach, I have had such conversations several times.
In some of the debates over human sexuality in the church, this awareness of the costs of personal sexual freedom and the goodness of fidelity has been strikingly rare. It is particularly disappointing to see Christian progressives portray concern about fidelity as somehow quirky or parochial. This could not be further from the truth. Explorations of fidelity—its challenges and complications as well as the social goods it engenders—can be found throughout human history.
To be fair, Christian Boomer progressives who urge fellow parishioners to be affirming are not self-consciously enlisting in every aspect of the sexual revolution. They often remind us of this, letting us know that they are still “processing” the place of the LGBTQ+ community in the church. They seem to view the zeal of the new cultural convert as a badge of honor. However, those who have grown up in mainstream society are confident they know the meaning of such things as rainbow iconography and chants of “love is love.” They sometimes have less patience with what seems to them naivete about these matters. It seems that the best that we can hope for in this new era is to be “monogamish,” thin gruel compared with the traditional Christian conception of the good life and the role fidelity plays in it.
As I note the appeals of social authority and stability for some in today’s younger generations, readers might ask: what about all the data revealing young people leaving the church in droves partly because of its moral stances? That is a fair question. Indeed, it was a pressing question on the minds of many older delegates at recent CRC Synod meetings. They pleaded with their fellow church members, sometimes in tears, to avoid codifying the statement that restricted sexual activity to one-man-one-woman marriage. They were concerned about the future. Shaking with emotion, they asked: will my children stay in my denomination? These types of questions are sincere, earnest, and moving. Yet I would suggest they are ultimately misguided in their framing.
First of all, it is unclear whether being sufficiently LGBTQ+ affirming does, in fact, keep significant numbers of young people in the church. The Episcopal Church and the Presbyterian Church USA (PCUSA) have not skewed young since making their culturally progressive convictions clear years ago. Many of the children of the Boomer defenders of the CRC seem already to have left the church even before the dramatic events of the past few years. On social media, one sees a common expression from people in their thirties and forties who have become disaffected by the church: if I went to church, they say, it would be to an affirming church.
The qualifier here is significant. Some progressive Christians think that through their affirming pronouncements and policies they will be among the last churches standing in a dechurching age. Yet the empirical data so far do not bear this out. Factors like inclusion, acceptance, and openness feel like cheap discipleship for many who have grown up in mainstream society during the past generation and who are inclined to take religion seriously.
A Turn to Liturgical Faith Traditions
To cast the future of the church as a choice between becoming affirming and facing the abyss also seems blind to the phenomenon of many spiritually hungry and curious young confessional Protestants and evangelicals becoming Catholic and Orthodox in recent years. There are several reasons for this trend. These historic churches offer a deep and uninterrupted connection to the Christian past, rich liturgies, and sacramental theology for those seeking them. There is also the appeal of a morally serious church. Young people drawn to this could not care less about the church of winsomeness, which some have experienced for most of their lives.
I suspect I know why these broadly conservative younger Christians do not always align with those (often older) church members preaching tolerance, acceptance, and affirmation. They would acknowledge that these practices have some value, but they come at a cost. Those who have experienced the downside of progressive social goods have become interested in a group of new prominent online thought leaders who question progressive social and cultural values or operate outside of them: Jordan Peterson, Louise Perry, Mary Harrington, John Vervaeke, Jonathan Pageau, and Spencer Klavan, among others. Notably, many of their progressive Boomer elders either are unfamiliar with these figures or, if they are familiar, find them troubling because they do not align with their priors.
There is, then, a generational mismatch in debates on human sexuality within the church today. This was not the case a few decades ago. Boomer progressives find themselves frustrated with a subset of those younger than they—specifically those who have remained committed to the church but who do not share their piety toward openness, individual freedom, and authenticity. Not surprisingly, these divergent views have sparked tensions.
Change Is Afoot
I began by recounting events at the recent CRC synod meeting that wrestled over issues of human sexuality. In the months following this meeting, some long-time church members in the moderate-to-progressive camp expressed indignation about the role that both young people and denominational newcomers had played in passing the traditionalist statement. They characterized these events as a coup, even the death knell of the denomination in which they were born and raised. Younger traditionalists, in turn, are inclined to roll their eyes when their elders seem not to realize that they are living in 2024 when inclusion is often mandated, not in 1994 when it was new and fresh.
Both in the CRC and at Calvin University, which the denomination owns and operates, churn and change will probably continue in the years ahead. Already, the denomination has experienced a 40 percent decline in total number of members from a high of about 316,000 in 1992 to about 190,000 today. Following recent tumultuous events, the future might see more shrinkage. Currently, about thirty churches (of a total of just over 1,000 across the US and Canada) say they will disaffiliate from the CRC because of the new sexuality policy. Several are churches attended by Calvin faculty members, which raises the question of how LGBTQ+-affirming faculty can align with the denomination. Looking to the future, some of these professors express worry about losing their jobs.
But this is a story of more than one denomination. A significant proportion of those young men preparing to lead the Roman Catholic Church in the near future are traditionalists. Similar developments can be seen in the Orthodox, Anglican, and global Methodist churches. Young seminarians, priests, and pastors who have either been churched or who seek to be formed by the church are uninterested in the de facto churches of inclusion that they see all around them—in public libraries, civic and professional organizations, and most universities.
Many are seriously studying and pondering Christian sexual ethics, in some cases, for the first time in their lives. They are curious about why the Christian church has believed what it believed about human sexuality for centuries. They are reading and listening to meditations on marriage as an eschatological sign. They are coming to see that marriage and fidelity are essential to a true understanding of the common good. They are encountering fellow virtue-seekers from various religious traditions, such as the late Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, whose “The Love that Brings New Life Into the World” seeks to demonstrate that one-man-one-woman conjugal marriage is “the most beautiful idea in the history of civilisation.”
All these experiences have been formative for these young people curious about traditionalism. They have also created space between them and their Boomer elders in the church holding moderate-to-progressive social views. This latter group hoped that the sexual revolution had become a settled matter of consensus not only in society, but also in the church. Recent developments, though, show this not to be the case. The power of the sexual revolution as an ideology to shape and mobilize, to enlist and split, continues to reverberate.
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