Car Ride with My College Student
One Friday in mid-December, I spent an afternoon in Manhattan Beach while waiting for my daughter to land at LAX for her three-week semester break. Just a few days prior, my new spiritual director had encouraged me to squeeze in a half-day of quiet retreat. I designated this waiting time as such, bringing along a book, my Bible, and a journal, and planting myself for a couple of hours at a cozy cafe.
During my time in the cafe, three separate Gen Z employees paused an extra minute while waiting on my table and asked me about the Bible in front of me. I found it noteworthy. (Especially so because I had already paid the tip at the counter, so there is no chance they were trying to butter me up.)
Late that afternoon, I picked up my daughter, and the app we were using mapped us on a two-hour drive through side streets, avoiding accidents and backups on the freeways. My daughter was, understandably, in decompression mode. She processed aloud about her stressful week — finals, packing, and traveling through one of America’s worst airports.
As we slowly made our way through neighborhoods, making small talk, I mentioned my unusual encounter in the day — people her age asking me about the Bible in Manhattan Beach. “Well, isn’t that pretty close to Trump country?” she asked. (The answer is not quite – only 33% voted for him. Her impression likely comes from further down the coast, toward Orange County, where the wealthy “Beach Cities” are notoriously Republican, particularly Huntington Beach. Several megachurches and ministry movements exist there, and it’s not uncommon to see beach rallies for Jesus as well as MAGA flags and MAGA hats, not necessarily sponsored by the same organizations.)
“Mom,” she said, about to provide a humbling contrast, “at my school, no one goes up to talk to the Christian club table.” I was not surprised. My husband and I have been lifelong campus ministers between us. I am familiar with the religious context of the Pacific Northwest, where she attends school. It is described by sociologists of religion as the most secular and post-Christian region in the US. Beyond that, I have many experiences of sitting at such a table. It’s not unusual to spend a day receiving minimal interest.
I admitted to her that being approached in the cafe in Manhattan Beach felt a bit like traveling back in time, perhaps to the late 90s when I was a student on campus. We chuckled a bit, acknowledging how times change and the distance between our experiences.
But the truth is, both ends of the spectrum represented by our two anecdotes seem to be true at once. Some Gen Z folks are adopting expressions of faith that closely reflect my experience in the 90s (Bible study, church groups, worship nights, camps/conferences). There is a resurgence that is still small, but significant. At the same time, the more broadly known trend of disengagement and disinterest in institutional faith still exists, particularly for those tracking politics or trends of abuse.
What unfolded in our car conversation is at the very heart of what can be seen among young people in the United States in 2026.
Developing Integration
With no better prospects for conversation on this long car ride, my daughter sat back and, with all the confidence of a 19-year-old who just received tens of thousands of dollars of public university education, used an inquisitive but strong voice. “Ok, Mom, what I don’t get is how some people think that Christianity is a justification for doing all kinds of bad things.” In her question, which has been asked by generations of students, she means racism, sexism, bigotry, homophobia, xenophobia, authoritarianism, colonialism, genocide, and more.
My specific answer is refined by over two decades of experience with young adults in such conversations. “Well,” I said. “They take a seed of an idea from Christianity and use it to have power over others.”
I relished her openness to discuss this with me. After all those years of working with students, having hard conversations together, mine was finally letting me use my hard-earned skills instead of dismissing me as the annoying, irrelevant parent.
“Ok, that actually makes sense,” she said.
(Gasp!)……
We were having our first grown-up conversation. She was integrating her upbringing with her current self and it was satisfying to behold. I can’t tell you how often I doubted this day would ever come.
I felt permission in the pause between us, so I continued.
“You know, Jesus is the exact opposite of all that…”
“…Jesus did not use force or that kind of power, but instead came as a baby. Many expressions of Christianity may mess this up, but this aspect of Jesus is why I would choose to follow him every time.”
She gave a subtle nod.
“Mom,” she added with a perfect blend of respect and sass, “don’t let this go to your head…”
(I paused, held my breath. Kept my focus on the road.)
“…you and Dad already prepared me for school, and the types of conversations we have there.”
When she elaborated about learning to be a critical thinker, I was pleased. I might have expected her to mention all our deep ethical conversations on morning commutes or around the dinner table. Instead, she led with, “All those audiobooks you used to play for your book club when I was in middle school…they exposed me to thinking about things.”
What she is describing surprised me a little. This was a book club of public school moms who shared an interest in fiction and memoirs that touched on family, identity, and culture. When I played Trevor Noah’s Born a Crime in our minivan while driving to art lessons, basketball practice, and the orthodontist, I did not expect this to come back to me as my first parental appreciation moment. Nonetheless, I can see how these storytellers and their stories introduced new worlds and concepts in an accessible way. After all, we discovered in early elementary school that she’s a very strong audio learner.
The conversation continued. It was going so well, I couldn’t resist.
“You know, that’s why your dad and I liked our college fellowship and made a career out of it,” I replied. “Because it was a place to grow in your faith while also doing critical thinking as a college student. The two were not at odds.”
“That makes sense,” she affirmed.
She seemed to be getting a glimpse of who we are and how we raised her while she said it.
What a gift.
Two Trends at Once
In the bigger picture of the United States, there is a reported resurgence of church attendance among Gen Z. I believe it because I have former colleagues I trust who have firsthand witness to it. Some say it’s the first spiritual swell since COVID, filling campus ministry Fall Conferences. Still, the overwhelming majority of kids raised in the pews are more like the university students my daughter described, averse to organized religion and not wanting to approach the Christian club table. Two-thirds raised in church don’t stick. How do we explain the stark contrast she and I discussed in the car that day?
In 2019, I attended a summit where we heard predictions about Gen Z. We anticipated they might feel drawn to spirituality in a structured form. Our guest speaker, who video-called in from Australia, cited Benedictine rhythms, such as the “rule of life,” as a possible draw. Predictions are only predictions, and none of us anticipated a worldwide pandemic within the year. But, perhaps the surge of faith is somewhat affected by this prediction about structure — to be in formal groups with meaning, as well as to adopt some comforts of a bygone era. Rapid change in society always carries with it a resurgence of something that feels more traditional, a subgroup’s attempt to keep things as they were.
Pop culture is also having a 90s-nostalgia phase. It shows up in fashion and television (current shows set in the 90s, as well as those filmed in the 90s, streaming with a new cult following). This past holiday season, I even saw multiple social media posts proclaiming, “All I really want is a 90s Christmas.”
It’s an era that harkens back to a simpler time. No internet or cell phones. The last remnants of an analogue life. Gen Z’s 90s throwback culture was my generation’s 1950s. They stream Gilmore Girls on their devices via Netflix; we gathered in the living room as a family to watch black-and-white classic TV programs on Nick at Nite.
Gen Z faith observers did not go as far as the Benedictine rule, but perhaps joining a third space, like the church, which has historically been a major part of American life, has a comforting and grounding appeal. The impulse to recapture something lost will always attract a percentage of society, including young people in the faith space.
| The “Nostalgia” Trend | The “Post-Church” Trend |
| Drawn to 90s-style Bible studies & camps. | Wary of “Institutional” religion & politics. |
| Seeking “Third Spaces” and analogue life. | Values cultural engagement and social advocacy. |
| Resurgence of traditional structures. | Lack of appeal to the “Christian Subculture.” |
Formation vs. Indoctrination
Gen Z’s backdrop is one of the most culturally and politically divided times in our country’s history. One of the areas where this division wreaks havoc the most is in the area of education, an area demonized by particular streams of faith in America. This is unfortunate because secular education is the space where the majority of young people in our country spend the majority of their time.
While I don’t deny that there can be valid concerns about forms of indoctrination in public education, those concerns have too often been coupled with a fear of exposure to ideas and critical thinking altogether. This fear keeps our culture war raging. It has become so absurd that even Biola University, a notoriously conservative Christian college, has come under attack by some ultra-conservative circles for being too “liberal.”
In the implied view of these critics, education in a Christian university is meant to be a direct transfer of truths and worldview from teachers and administrators to students. There is hardly any room in this view to enlarge their exposure or expressions. The claim is that Biola has gone too “woke,” even though I know multiple former professors who left the institution claiming the exact opposite.
These controversies and the ensuing battles do not seem concerned with appropriate young adult development — the need to experience the world guided by trustworthy adults and teachers while trying things out and making mistakes. Instead, it sounds as though we must protect, control, and win arguments around truth, ensuring that young people receive the version we find the purest.
I do believe in 2 Timothy 1:14 and the charge to “guard the good deposit,” entrusting it to trustworthy people who will entrust it to other trustworthy people (2 Tim 2:2). But there is a difference between training up Bible teachers, theologians, and seminarians who are called to do just that and controlling the process of faith development for emerging young adults. We can’t reduce human development, which includes spiritual development, to a simple input-and-output process.
The truth for young people, whether educated in a secular or Christian environment is this:
If you can’t question Christianity, you can’t become a Christian. If you cannot explore what a faithful response is, you cannot have a response that comes from faith.
If you don’t have the freedom to engage books that question or even challenge the Bible and see if they have any merit, then you can’t willingly choose the word of God and find it to be a lamp unto your feet. If you cannot encounter a Christian who expresses their faith differently from you, then you cannot discern a faithful response. No one is born a Christian believer or inducted into it. Neither is any new convert immediately a person of discernment.
The Spirit opens our eyes, enlivens our hearts, and allows us to see the truth of Jesus amidst the falsehoods of the world, including the Christian subculture. This does not come by strict avoidance of the whole world to make a Christian. Jesus is not afraid to go to Samaria or send his disciples to the Gentiles, so why are we so narrow and suspicious in our practices? Jesus demonstrates that he can both adhere to the truth of who God is and go to places that do not fully understand it.
This means my daughter can go to college in the Northwest with the foundation she received from us and begin to expand her horizons. Christ is there. This means students at a Christian university can comfortably expand their horizons as well. Every exploration does not have equal merit, but it does not require us to belittle and fret about exploration all together.
Letting Them Drive
There are obvious forms of control and groupthink that require submission because “we said so.” There are also more subtle forms of control that most of us dance around within our day-to-day lives. As a parent, it’s easier to set strict parameters and information sources so my maturing kid has no choice but to align with my standards.
My husband will tell you that in his years as a college pastor at a church, the families who took the hardest line had the kids who secretly had no alignment with the parents. But I confess, it’s hard not to employ these tactics even subtly. I have the power to manipulate, infuse fear, and create narratives to gain more submission from my kids to my ideals. I’ve been tempted, and at times I have succumbed.
As a child, I had an unusual arrangement: I rode the public school bus to my private faith-based K-8 school. This required first stopping at the local public elementary school, where almost everyone got off the bus. Then 2-3 of us headed to our own private drop-off.
“The public-school kids” had foul mouths, with expressions I had never heard. To my young mind, they represented bad things and bad kids. Unfortunately, this kind of thinking can become a deeply entrenched form of othering. It’s easy to live in a bubble rather than engage the world with the love of Christ. It can nurture hostility toward people outside the bubble, exchanging a faithful, loving, mission for our sense of group safety.
There’s no right answer here, but this is why we chose to put our kids in public schools. However, I admit that after having my daughter in an arts high school outside LA post-COVID, I felt like we’re living at the bottom of a cultural cesspool. I deeply regretted our choice for a season, but only because we were midway in a longer trajectory of her life. Some things came at us out of nowhere, with little time to prepare, especially given the fracture of moving from middle school remote learning to engaging with new peers at a new age and stage.
The truth is, you must get out of the driver’s seat altogether and let your emerging adult drive if you want them to become a capable driver. Faith formation is like driver’s ed. They must begin by learning the rules of the road, practice with you and other teachers, and then, ultimately, drive alone. Eventually, they will be a full-fledged adult with a car, title, and insurance.
Kids need a lot of formation at a young age, and it’s right that we work hard at it. But you can’t feed them Cheerios or Sunday School lessons forever. Adults must experience the world and find that Jesus is still the best news in it.
The more we fear that process, the more our fear brings about bad news for the culture and this generation. I’m excited that Gen Z kids in Manhattan Beach want to talk about the Bible like it’s 1999 all over again, but I am not going back to 1999. I also have to hold space for kids in the Pacific Northwest who want to study what is out there and engage in complex conversations, because they are living in a new space where the Spirit is doing a new thing (even if they don’t know it yet).
The Holy Spirit, I’m convinced, does both a new thing and brings us back to ancient, forever true things. Renewal is the meeting of the new and the old, the future and the past. It’s not making the past the future. It’s not making all new things. It’s renewing all things. A perfect ring of continuity of the One Truth.
The worst thing we can do is create a false equivalency that being a faith-filled person requires adherence to a certain bygone era or political reality. Gen Z has lived through more change and trauma in their formative years than some generations in a lifetime. Some of them will find comfort in something that feels old and traditional. Others will go on a journey to a new place.
Jesus welcomes their questions, has mercy for their mistakes, engages their curious minds, and loves them wholeheartedly.
I celebrate the resurgence of faith for some, while still waiting for the new thing the Spirit is doing, so that those on the outside can know Jesus. In the end, I believe we will see it as two points of one circle, where faith is renewed by God in every generation and time.
