A Profile of a Young Adult….in Ministry?

Renee.

23.

Millenial.

Black.

Bi.

Recent Vegetarian.

Christian.

Religion is complicated. It is multi-faceted and stupid and amazing and unnecessary and necessary. Like people. Complex, stupid, amazing, loving people. To have faith in them, the people … no the religion, is hands down one of the dumbest decisions you can make. And yet, we do. We have faith in people and our religions (even those with none at all).  I have never made a secret of my faith. As an avid lover of over-sharing, I have scores of sweaters and t-shirts that proclaim my love of Christ, Doctor Who, Hamilton, 90s television and anything else that has ever struck my fancy. But, just being who I am, a complicated person, has led me to struggle with my own faith and the community of faith that surrounds me.

-#StupidMillenials-

“The problem is, these young people aren’t as involved in the ministry like they should be.”

“We need to appeal to the young people.”

“The young people just don’t care about anything except their cell phones.”

If you have ever been to a church, or really any place with a generational gap, you’ve heard these words. Or something along these lines. Young people just don’t care anymore. All they want is the new iPhone 7SXCEblahblahblah. Here’s the thing, THAT’S NOT

TRUE.  Young adults care about a lot and want to do a lot.

I was scrolling through Twitter when I saw it. Yara Shahidi, a young actress from hit television show “Black-ish” was responding to a tweet. “Now we can have a separate conversation on the ever-present colorism and the monolithic black aesthetic on TV of 3c hair and lighter skin…” she said. And I found myself flabbergasted. Here was a 17-year-old talking about a system of oppression, one that played to her benefit as a light-skinned black woman. When I was 17, I remember sensing a general sense of un-justness, but I didn’t have the same level of sophistication and eloquence that Yara had in this moment. And I realized I had done to her the same thing that was done to me by those older than me. I had discounted her because she was young. I’d thought she wasn’t paying attention. I thought she didn’t know the words. But, she did. And given the chance, she expressed them.

I and my legion of millennials find ourselves struggling in the church today. No one takes us seriously. We are dismissed as frivolous and vain. And maybe we are a little. I mean, sure my self-worth is tied to my Instagram a little bit and I order Chinese food WAY more often than I should because I’m too lazy to cook, but we are here. And we want to have conversations. The problem I feel we face as young people is that WE know that Y’ALL think this way about us [read: frivolous and vain] so we’re afraid to talk because we’re afraid of being dismissed. Please listen to your young people. Give us the space to speak and you’d be surprised at what we have to say. And remember Yara. The younger generations are more self-aware than previous ones. Do not discount young people. We are here. Let us in.

-The Body of Christ…..is white and a man…..FYI-

As a child, I was not aware that, to the general public, Christianity was white. I was a little black girl going to a little black church. My community was that of Caribbean immigrants, my parents were Trinidadian immigrants, everyone else I knew who went to church was all Caribbean immigrants…you get the picture. I grew up and learned and experienced life and found out, the body of Christ is a lot more Anglo-Saxon than I thought. It is a heady feeling to watch a documentary about the KKK and hear them singing Amazing Grace. It’s discomforting to learn about slavery in history class and find out they used the Bible to justify the enslavement of black people. It saddens one to see more conservative, right-lunging members of the government lauded as “true Christian politicians” as they systematically oppress you, your communities, and others with the biggest of smiles. To learn Christianity is to learn oppression and imperialism and colonialism and racism and sexism and homophobia and to come to terms with that as a black woman was a daunting task. There were times when I felt as though there was no space for me. In my own church, there were people who looked like me but they hated a small part of me. They don’t know that they do but they do. In other Christian spaces, I might as well be on Mars they are so culturally and musically different.  But, to learn Christ is to learn love and communion and hope and freedom and humility and joy. It is my hope to spread Christ throughout the world. As a young person delving into a more diverse world full of wonderful people of different ethnicities and races and sexualities and religions, I am reminded that Jesus called me to love them all. Not like them all, I do have limits, but to love them all as I love myself, or that I would hope to be loved.

Renee.

Christian.

I hope among hope for a community of love. For a group of people who disagree on little things but agree that loving our neighbors is important. Who understand that loving means basic human rights, even to those who we don’t think deserve it. A community that isn’t concerned about gaining brownie points for heaven but who are focused on making this place where we are now a little better before we reach there. Who understands the power of words and the effect they can have on small dark-skinned black girls who are questioning themselves at every turn. A community that doesn’t lead some to tears with callous remarks about abominations and doesn’t use its holy words to justify terrible actions. That is the religion and the people I have my faith in. Even though it doesn’t make any sense to. People let you down. Religion lets you down. Christ doesn’t. He hasn’t. So, for all my struggles with the church and myself and people, I still believe in Christ. And, it makes it all worth it. And so, I do my little bit. I wear my shirts, I try to love everyone, and I try to be unapologetically myself. Because I know, out there is another little girl like me, and if I can project the light of Christ to her, maybe she won’t struggle as much as I did.