Abstract
This article invites congregations to rethink their approach to young people who have been marginalized by the church. It explores ways young people can feel seen, heard, and valued within congregations. Rather than condemning the church for what it is NOT doing, this article is an invitation to both the youth who are missing from the church and church to view each other differently.
I was sitting with a group of young girls in the detention center. Each week, I visited for the sole purpose of writing. We would write letters, poetry, and short stories. Our time together was sacred. Our growth was mutual. A couple of the young women had grown up in the church, but none of the ladies attended any longer. They never felt like there was a place for them at church. The church's absence was evident in their lives. Not only were their voices missing from the church but the church's voice was missing from their lives as well. In this absence, everyone loses.
Initial Responses
In reading the findings of the Missing Voice Project (MVP), my first inclination is to shudder; to grieve the deficiencies of the church; to mourn wasted opportunities; to lament distorted perceptions of God; to apologize for the traditions that have harmed them, theological language that has shamed them, narratives that have rendered them invisible; to scream at the top of my lungs, that the promises of God aren't broken even though the people of God are; to point a finger at the church, the Body of Christ, of which I am a part.
My second inclination is to run after the missing voices, to pursue them wherever they are; to tell them that it is those people, not me who treat people like that, to run out into the street and say, “Come. We have a place for you!” This very temptation—to be the savior—I must resist.
I know what it is like to be invited into spaces, spaces that are unprepared for the arrival of my Black Christian mothering body, to come eager to engage, optimistic to share, only to realize these spaces they promised what they could not give. They didn't offer acceptance, only conformity—artificial belonging. It was a belonging that required me to fit in rather than to be authentic to who I am—authentic to who I am becoming. To invite missing voices into congregations, unprepared to receive them, is perhaps even more damaging. Reading the articles in this issue reminded me that we, the church, must resist blame, resist distancing ourselves from our own complicity in perpetuating artificial belonging, and resist the savior complex. These behaviors prevent us from engaging the self-examination needed to be spaces where youth feel welcomed.
Even as I navigate these feelings, I refocus my lens to see the true gift of the Missing Voices Project (MVP). My inclinations toward critique pale in comparison to the possibility that bursts forth from the stories represented by the young people in the congregations of the MVP. What they reveal is that the church can still functions as a site of redemption for those wounded, restoration for those offended, and reconciliation for those distanced.
The themes that emerge from the MVP are instructive, providing ways forward for congregations seeking to be more inclusive of those marginalized from the church. To this end, the MVP (and my response) is not intended to be an indictment against the church, rather, it serves as an invitation to the church.
From the Missing Voices Project: An Invitation to the Church
Incarcerated youth—and youth who are susceptible to incarceration—are the those to whom my research has most directly attuned its ears. Their physical location confirms that these young people are markedly “outside” of the church. In fact, when I present on incarcerated youth in ecclesial contexts, the presentation often prompts confused stares and questions like, “What do youth in detention centers or alternative school environments have to do with my youth? What does this mean for my young person?” The stares reify how youth often youth remain on the periphery because the church does not think all young people are "their" young people. And yet, the project reveals that, whether incarcerated or not, all of our youth want the same thing. Youth in detention centers, youth who are homeless, youth who have been excluded because of their race and sexual identity, all have the same longings as those youth who have grown up in the church all their lives. Young people want to be seen, loved, accepted, valued, and invited to participate in something beyond themselves.
The Missing Voices Project invites us as members of the church to sharpen our senses and attune our ears to hear those who are not among us; or to recognize those who, while present, remain unheard and essentially invisible to others. The word “missing” invites us to think of those we have lost, rejected, abandoned. It invites us to consider those on the periphery whom we have marginalized, silenced, demoralized, dismissed, unaffirmed, or simply seen as unremarkable. I put it this way: they implicate us in their disappearance and their silence, because those who are missing include not only those who have chosen to walk away but also those whom we, the faith community, have failed to fully embrace. Some of those “missing voices” have chosen to leave the church. Others remain in the church but go unnoticed, unnamed, and unknown. We do not know their names, their stories, their joys, and their pain. Their voices are unheard—because we mute or silence them. Through our disregard of them we allow them to become merely wallpaper in the room.
Several biblical images come to mind when I think of the missing voices of our youth, particularly those youth who have been marginalized. The images consist of the shepherd leaving the ninety-nine to find the one lost sheep, the prodigal son returning to a father who is waiting with arms open wide, pronouncing judgment on shepherds for scattered sheep. These images are instructive about where God shows up in relation to missing voices. God pursues and loves those on the periphery of the church.
We, the church, are often so preoccupied with programs and agendas that we are not always aware of who's missing from our company. The MVP challenges the church to pay attention to who is missing. To borrow from Mike Mather, “What if we paid attention to who they are, what they are attending to, what their vocations are and what God is doing in their lives?” 1 The intent is not necessarily to recruit those missing back into the church; rather, the intent of MVP is to learn how we, the church, might be a more faithful witness of the love of God for those who are marginalized. As the previous articles in this issue demonstrate, these voices are missing from the church not because they do not have anything to offer. They are missing because we have not listened well. We have not created space for certain people to bring their full selves to the church community. What type of response is required of us?
Are there ways that the faith community can invite young people into a “belongingness process,” where they move through a pattern “from noticed to named to known”? 2 Can youth be noticed, feel seen, acknowledged, and invited into relationships by others? Named youth, whose very identity is associated with what they are called, experience a deeper sense of connection when someone confirms that identity. Known youth experience unconditional acceptance and a freedom from fear of rejection. 3 In what ways might the church change the narrative from “missing” to noticed, named, and known?
Research findings from MVP align with a mass of other research that highlights the need for young people to belong. The Fuller Youth Institute, for example, has identified that the three most pressing questions youth ask center on identity, belonging, and purpose. 4 The MVP invites us to inquire about identity, belonging, and purpose through the lens of those marginalized in the church and society.
Identity—Is There a Place Where I Can Be Authentic to Who I am?
Young people's quest for identity represents a contested space. It always has been a contested space within the church, but the racial and political tensions over the last five years have compounded the complexity that already existed for young people. One of the major developmental tasks of youth is to seek who they are amidst the many voices telling them who they should be. Their attempts to “try on” new identities are often met with disdain.
Countless times in Scripture, the people closest to Jesus fail to recognize his power and personhood. For example, after multiplying bread and fish, Jesus reprimands the disciples because they do not recognize the power that dwells with them. 5 When Jesus walks on the water, the disciples think Jesus is a ghost. 6 After the resurrection, it takes the breaking of bread for them to recognize that it is Jesus who is standing right in front them. 7 In other words, throughout Scripture, there is a sense that Jesus can be among the disciples and still not be seen. How is it possible that the disciples can witness Jesus doing the greatest miracles, sharing the greatest teachings, and displaying the greatest compassion, and still fail to recognize him? The very ones that should know him because of their proximity somehow are unable to fully see him.
Society, including the church, has a long history of failing to recognize the value of others. Political commentator and gender studies scholar Melissa V. Harris-Perry describes how this history of “misrecognition” manifests in the ways Black women have been stereotyped through “Jezebel” and “Mammy” images. 8 These images denigrate the dignity of Black women by misrepresenting who they are. Like Black women, the church does not always see the value of each individual, with their unique identities. This can result in a misrecognition of the imago Dei in young people, especially those who have been marginalized.
The articles in this issue highlight youth who have been marginalized because of their disability, sexuality, gender identity, race, poverty, and homelessness. These young people have been doubly marginalized. They have been sidelined both by society and by the church. They have been misrecognized.
Misrecognition happens in a variety of ways. For racialized young people, the radio silence in church after a person of color is shot senselessly in the streets is a telltale sign that the church has not recognized them. When one suffers violence, we all suffer violence. The entire body grieves. As Moss points out, entering the discomfort of messy conversations actually is an act of recognition, a symbol that the congregation sees youth of color, sees their bodies, honors their histories, and makes space for the narratives they bring into the space. 9 Or, for young people who have intellectual and developmental disabilities, this manifests in the lack of opportunities for participation. These are just two examples of the many ways misrecognition takes place. The danger of misrecognition is that false perceptions of who a person or people are pervades the imagination, preventing a person's genuine self from being seen. What this boils down to is not just a misrecognition of the other, but a misrecognition of our self in the other, and a misrecognition of Christ in the other.
Towards Recognition
The failure to embrace young people in their authentic selves wounds young people who are already trying to make sense of who they are in a world that highlights who they are not. The invitation for the church is towards recognition. To see, hear, and embrace young people where they are for who they are is an act of recognition that is not at the surface level but extends opportunities for mutual exchange.
What is established from the onset of the research of MVP is that identity represents a critical marker of connection between congregations and those young people who are marginalized. Theater, dance, pilgrimage, and storytelling represent practices of inclusion that bore fruit in congregations among those represented in the MVP. These inclusion practices provided spaces for authentic expression, self-discovery, and connection.
Congregations often place guardrails up against those who are different or might challenge their theological and ideological positions. The MVP calls faith leaders beyond the boundaries they have created, perhaps even to redefine those boundaries as points of connection that help create bonds with and among young people.
Belonging: There's No Place Like Home
Let us be the otherparents and othersiblings and otherchildren of our otherkin. And let us open our homes, as well as our hearts, to any young person who has a human body. 10
What does it feel like to be home? When I imagine what home should be, I imagine a space where I can take off my shoes, lay back on the couch, and relax. The expectations that other people put on me are left at the front door. Masks come off. The need to “be on” is exchanged for a more relaxed version of myself. The fullness of me can be seen without reproach. The fullness of me can be embraced by those I call family. What does it take for young people who have been marginalized to feel at home in the church?
Belonging goes hand in hand with identity. We belong when we feel like we can be at home in our own skin, our own body, our own “fearfully and wonderfully made” self. Home, for young people, is not necessarily a physical location. Rather, home is the people who make one feel at home. As research shows, youth are more likely to remain in a congregation that “feels like family” and is characterized by “warmth.” 11 Poet Maya Angelou's statement embodies this idea: “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” 12 In other words, talk is cheap. The theological language of home invites young people into more than an institutional structure; it invites young people into a family. As evidenced throughout the MVP, congregations that invite young people to be themselves demonstrate a radical hospitality that invites youth to communion.
Young people not only care about how we treat them, they care about how we treat their friends. In other words, they not only want to feel at home, they want to bring their friends home with them without embarrassment. Gen Zers are generally less judgmental and more accepting of others, while at the same time loathing hypocrisy. 13 For many Gen Zers, hypocrisy looks like an unwillingness to pursue justice, an unwillingness to accept those who are different, and an unwillingness for one's life to align with the theology that is professed. Even within this paradox, young people who yearn for a sense of belonging seek to create that space for others. Sometimes, it is their very own peers who fulfill the mandate of embodying Christ. Young people, as Justin Forbes points out, display God's redemptive love for their friends in ways that testify to God's goodness to all. 14 The MVP demonstrates that youth are already at work building God's kin-dom among missing voices.
To this end, the MVP is inviting congregations to engage in a self-examination that will break down barriers to the hospitality and compassion it takes to create a family-like experience for marginalized young people. The invitation is to “conversion”—a way for faith leaders and youth ministers within congregations to recognize the ways society props up privilege and oppression as well as the subsequent impact of that privilege on the identity and vocational possibilities of young people. 15 Even more, it invites these leaders to a place of surrender so that the faith community can live into an existence that glorifies God.
Purpose: A Place to Contribute
We hope that congregations could begin to imagine young people, like all other members of the community, have insights and visions and hopes that can faithfully shape the congregation and bear witness to God's work in the world. 16
Youth yearn for a place to belong and a place where they can contribute. The MVP invites churches to provide intentional spaces where young people can live into their unique identities, gifts, and callings. Voice need not refer to speech alone. Here, it refers to a person's participation and sense of agency within the community. It highlights their distinct gifts, skills, contributions, opinions, and knowledge—their personhood. Without the voice of young people, our church will be found lacking. This invitation to consider the missing voices goes beyond simply offering space for young people to speak; rather, it reminds us to hear what they say, do, and are. It invites us to value their opinions and attitudes in ways that actually shape what we do and how we do it as a faith community.
While some may not feel like it is vital to explore ways to reintegrate young people into the congregation, without the voices of marginalized young people, the Body of Christ is incomplete. MVP compels the faith community to explore concrete ways that we can help young people to integrate or, perhaps, to reintegrate their whole selves into a church body that needs them. Youth on the margins, like those represented in the MVP, help us to recognize our own brokenness and blind spots. As we choose to accompany young people, they become our teachers. They provide insights regarding what it means to live into the fullness of the Body of Christ. Without their expertise, it is quite likely that we will continue to miss the mark in fulfilling God's greatest commandments—to love God and others.
To the Missing Voices: An Invitation from the Church
I, therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called,2 with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love,3 making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace:4 there is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling,5 one Lord, one faith, one baptism,6 one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all.7 But each of us was given grace according to the measure of Christ's gift. Ephesians 4:1–7 NRSV Updated Edition
The church is not without witness. The MVP provides hope. The church, despite its shortcomings, also has something to offer young people, particularly those who are identified in the MVP. Whether one teaches youth ministry or leads youth in an urban, suburban, or rural setting, ministry to the “missing voices” represents a unique missional opportunity to display the incarnational love of Christ. As an intergenerational community, the kin-dom of God, revealed through the Body of Christ, invites young people into a bigger story as well as a repository of traditions.
Invited into the Body of Christ—A Shared Identity
Congregations invite young people into the Body of Christ. The Body of Christ metaphor gives us language to describe our distinctiveness while also recognizing our shared identity within Christ. To hold both our uniqueness and our commonality together guards against simplistic notions that suggest that our whole identity is subsumed within a common identity. The Body of Christ image invites us into an understanding that we are better together. Our distinct gifts, personality traits, and attributes add richness to who we are as a body. My weakness is another's strength. My tastes and preferences challenge us to reconsider the things we have normalized, and even idolized. We function at our greatest capacity when we make space for all those God has created.
Even when every attempt is made to cross boundaries, mistakes will be made. To this end, the Body of Christ image does not pretend perfection. We, as a congregation, are wounded. Wounds remain in the hands and feet of Jesus as a constant reminder that God is bigger than our wounds. Broken bodies invite communion. Broken bodies invite redemption. Broken bodies invite hope. Young people, however, do not shy away from imperfection. They shy away from hypocrisy. As congregations invite, embrace, and fully accept marginalized youth into their local body, the congregation will be transformed, looking more and more like Christ.
Invited into the Kin-dom of God—A Shared Family
It is possible to be with each other and not belong to one another. As Kermit Moss makes clear, the call into Christian community moves us beyond proximity into relationships of mutuality that share and surrender power. 9 Mujerista theologian Ada María Isasi-Díaz offers new language that might help us think about being part of a shared family. Rather than using kingdom, she popularizes the term kin-dom, reminding us that we are all kin. 17 The use of this language challenges patriarchal imperialistic ideas, while at the same time emphasizing our shared heritage as siblings in the family of God. The family-of-God language connotes principles of kinship, solidarity, and mutuality, highlighting the relational nature of God. The family of God and the kin-dom of God are one. God desires more than closeness. God desires connection with those God adopts into the family. God desires that connection to extend horizontally, to each other.
Invited into Discipleship Journey—A Shared Mission
Within a shared family, young people are invited into shared mission. This mission centers on becoming more like Christ while also tending to the brokenness in the world. To this end, congregations invite young people into a discipleship journey that helps them make sense of where God's mission for themselves as a unique person intersects with God's mission for all believers.
Young people are in search of answers. Young people are always trying to make sense of their beliefs, the world, and their place in it. Further, research indicates that churchgoing Gen Zers see church as a meaningful place to discover answers relevant to their lives. 18 For congregations looking to integrate youth, this attitude represents a huge opportunity. For achievement- and success-driven Gen Zers, the church becomes an important site of vocational exploration. Barna suggested the need for “vocational discipleship,” where young people learn to integrate their faith into their careers. 19 This integration of faith and career does not start after they have graduated from college. The church becomes an ideal community to accompany young people on their journey right now. Churches get to invite young people into an intergenerational community with caring adults who are willing to share their wisdom and walk alongside young people as they make decisions.
Young people are invited to incorporate their unique identities into a community that serves one purpose—to glorify God through our love of God, self, and neighbor. To this end, the church invites young people as co-creators, as partners who have concrete ways to contribute to building God's kin-dom. Offering spaces to contribute reinforces a sense of meaning and the feeling of belonging as identified in MVP. We need young people to help us reimagine an authentic expression of the Body of Christ.
Conclusion
What has stood out to me in MVP is the consistency among all the articles, drawing attention to identity, belonging, and purpose in various ways. My response to the MVP is just as much about what the church is invited into as we listen faithfully as it is, what we, the Body of Christ, get to invite young people into. Acknowledging and integrating those who are missing from the church are essential for the work of the Body. It is critical for embodying compassion, hospitality, and justice. Marginalized youth invite us to embody our call to create a place for young people to contribute, to belong, and to be known.
