It’s important for all of us to understand those who are different from us. This makes us better people, better Christians, and better servants of Jesus. And often, this means trying to understand those of other generations–whether those who have gone before us or those who are coming after us.
In an effort to better understand the next generation, recently I’ve been reading a book by Jean M. Twenge titled iGen: Why Today’s Super-Connected Kids Are Growing Up Less Rebellious, More Tolerant, Less Happy–and Completely Unprepared for Adulthood. The book provides a statistical profile of what Twenge classifies a “iGen”: those born between 1995 and 2012. The members of iGen are now graduating high school and college and entering adult society. As a minister, these are the next generation of Christians believers and of unbelievers who need to hear about Jesus–and like any generation, they hold certain values and modes of thought that are different from Millenials like me and other generations before them.
There is much that could be discussed from this book, but I won’t do all of that here. If you are in ministry, or even if you just want to know more about how American society is changing, I would recommend that you pick up a copy. Twenge highlights several major areas in which iGen is different from previous generations, and it’s helpful for all of us at least be aware of these.
But for my purposes today, one idea especially caught my attention. In one chapter, Twenge shows that iGen is more concerned with safety that other generations had been. Many members of this generation have experienced greater levels of supervision at home, at school, and elsewhere, in order to make sure they are safe. In many ways, this concern for safety has had positive effects: Today’s teenagers and young adults are more likely to wear their seatbelts and drive safely, and are less likely to drink or get into fights.
An interesting wrinkle, however, is in the observation that safety has come to not only refer to physical safety, but to emotional safety as well. Just as people are cautious to not be physically injured, they take steps to avoid “emotional injury” too. Such emotional injury may come from someone’s words, or from being confronted with a viewpoint that offends or is at adds with yours. Twenge writes, “This is the flip side of iGen’s interest in safety: the idea that one should be safe not just from car accidents and sexual assault but from people who disagree with you.” All of this lends to the development of safe spaces, trigger warnings, and concern for microaggressions. More and more, people are anxious about being forced to confront messages that they do not want to have to confront.
One example of this trend helped me think on what this all means as a minister. She writes:
Some students have taken this notion even further–beyond offensive or extreme speech to anything that makes them feel uncomfortable or challenges them to question their actions. Everett Piper, the president of Oklahoma Wesleyan University, said a student told him he felt ‘victimized’ by a sermon on a passage in Corinthians about showing love. Why? Because it ‘made him feel bad for not showing love! In his mind, the speaker was wrong for making him, and his peers, feel uncomfortable.’ In this way of thinking, no one should ever say anything that makes a student feel bad, even if it might inspire him or her to do better.”
I read this paragraph to my wife and asked her what she thought about the student claiming to be “victimized” by the sermon. She responded, “Isn’t that conviction?” And I would agree. Conviction is one of the things God does, after all. Jesus said that the Holy Spirit would “convict the world concerning sin and righteousness and judgment” (Jn. 16:8). The goodness of the gospel is so good because the badness of our sin is so bad. To understand what Jesus has done in rescuing us, we need to understand how we have failed. In addition, the process of sanctification requires that we continously be confronted by and convicted by the reality of our sin. Only in this way can we grow in Christ-likeness.
But it all poses challenging problems for those of us who teach or preach. If, for example, calling people to be more loving causes our hearers to feel “victimized,” how can we teach about sin? How can we help even believers grow in holiness and Christlikeness?
I don’t know that I have clear answers to those questions yet. But here are a few basic ideas that I’ve been tossing around as I’ve been thinking about this:
1. The problem isn’t entirely new
Granted, the language of victimization in place of conviction may be new to me. But the root issue isn’t really new: People don’t like to be told that they have been doing something. We recoil from the conviction that comes through God’s Word and the Holy Spirit. In the 60’s AD, Paul wrote, “For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions” (2 Tim. 4:3). He also wrote of those “whose consciences are seared” (1 Tim. 4:2). When Stephen preached a sermon that challenged the Sanhedrin, they “stopped their ears” as they rushed at him to kill him (Acts 7:57). Even 800 years before Jesus, the king Ahab complained that the prophet Micaiah didn’t prophesy good things about him, but only bad (1 Kgs. 22:18). It’s a common element of human nature in all generations: We want to be patted on the back and told we’re doing everything right. We don’t want anyone (prophet, preacher, or God himself) to tell us that we have sins that need corrected. This element of our nature may be repackaged at different times, but its the same problem at its core.
2. The answer isn’t to tell people to suck it up
I have to admit: my first reaction when I read about someone like the college student in the example above is to say, “C’mon man. You’re not a victim because someone preached a sermon you didn’t like. Deal with it.” And while that may all be true, it’s probably not helpful in many cases. If our response to the changes in culture is to say, “They’re all just being stupid. They need to be more like me instead,” then we’re turning away our hearers before they ever have a chance to listen. We have to meet people where they are instead of expecting us to meet us where we are. Paul famously wrote, “I have become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some” (1 Cor. 9:22).
3. The answer isn’t to dull the Bible’s edge
Another possibility is to take the opposite track: If today’s generation doesn’t want to be challenged or made uncomfortable, then let’s just gloss over the challenging or uncomfortable parts of the Bible: “Let’s not worry about teaching about sin. Let’s not call people to die to their old selves and follow the way of Christ. Let’s just give people uplifting, inspirational messages that will help them feel good.” But to do this is to diminish the power of God’s Word. The Bible is by nature challenging. It makes us uncomfortable. It is “sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow” (Heb. 4:12). God’s Word is sweet in so many ways, but it can also be bitter (Rev. 10:10).
What do you think? What challenges does today’s concern for emotional safety pose for the church? How can we effectively teach God’s Word in today’s cultural context?
A Few Words 