CRAIG WONG, JULY 19, 2020
[9 MIN READ]
Think about a wedding reception when the aging father, and then the young groom, finish dancing with the bride while the love ballad draws to a close. The vibe pivots and pulsating R&B tunes fill the hall. Young adults are the first to broach the dance floor. After some coaxing, a few wall-flowers follow suit. Itʼs an awkward affair, especially when the middle-aged men activate their inner-groove from the 70s and 80s. Initially, folks clump by generation, eyeing each other with amusement. But soon, teens, toddlers, seniors, and everyone in between, mix it up, executing the “electric slide” in clumsy-yet-poetic unity.
Itʼs been thought-provoking these days, to see intergenerational bridge-building as a subset of the Triune Godʼs redeeming work of reconciling all people - Jews and Greeks, slaves and free - into the one body that God has always intended. The imprisoned Paul, while writing to the Ephesians, speaks of this work as “the mystery hidden for ages in God who created all things, so that through the Church the wisdom of God in its rich variety might now be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 3:10). This was the same apostle that implored a woefully divided congregation in Corinth to remember that they were baptized in one Spirit and, therefore, were parts of one body that needed each other, i.e. the “eye cannot say to the hand, I have no need of you, or again the head to the feet, ʻI have no need of you” (1 Corinthians 12:21).
Thus, Boomers cannot say to Millennials, I have no need of you, or Gen-Zʼers cannot say of Gen-Xʼers, I have no need of you. On the contrary, their oneness is critical to the Churchʼs witness before the powers and principalities of which Paul speaks. In other words, the interdependency of young and old is more than a heart-warming sentiment. It is a missional imperative.
Looking back, Iʼm seeing how Ekklesiaeʼs priority for generational bridge-building was sparked at my 50th birthday party eight years ago. Seeing my first mentor, Rod Jung, I remembered with fondness how he came alongside me as a new believer, taking interest in my life. I asked myself, “Who am I coming alongside? How purposeful am I with my own kids?” Also, that year my father was rapidly succumbing to Alzheimers. Spending many hours by his side, I began to practice being truly present, to ask questions, to engage in conversations that weʼd never had. This spurs me today to engage the Churchʼs octogenarians and nonagenarians, the so-called “silent generation,” that their wisdom and experience be passed down to our young.
When New Zealand lawmaker, Chlöe Swarbrickʼs “OK Boomer” retort went viral last year, the spike in generational-adversarialism highlighted just how fragile the level of trust - and how deep the divide - can be between any two human communities. Ironically, this reality is also what made Ekklesiaeʼs recent work among believing Boomers and Millennials all the more encouraging. In our Gen Y conversations, emerging leaders - across the board - expressed their genuine desire, in fact, need for older mentors, whether Boomers, Gen Xʼers or beyond. “We want them in our lives,” they said in so many words, “but we also need them to be more self-aware, more humble. We donʼt need their religious certitude as much as we want to hear about their lives of faith. What was it like to be Christian during the Vietnam War or the Civil Rights Movement (the Boomerʼs BLM). How was your faith challenged and transformed in those days?” Sadly, such mentors have been missing in action. As one Millennial put it, “the only time older congregants reach out to me is when they need babysitting.”
This led us to host groups among Boomers and ask the question, “What are the obstacles that inhibit you from reaching out to emerging adults?” While a common response was the perception that their influence was unwanted, there was an overall absence of excuses. Instead, there was remarkable self-reflection and vulnerability, the very posture that Millennials wished more prevalent among Boomers. What are the attitudes and assumptions we hold onto that make it hard for young people to connect with us? How am I letting my perplexity about young peopleʼs mode of communication, their freedom to bare all on social media, their aversion to church, intimidate me? And how are ways we do church that hinder, rather than develop, the discipleship of our young people? Other-generation “flies on the wall” listened and reflected back on what they observed. The reports were very encouraging. Mutual interest in each other was greater than previously assumed. Trust and relationship was possible!
Which brings us back to the Triune God. The Ephesian text, as with all of Paulʼs letters, captures the collaborative nature of the three persons of the Trinity: God the Father calls, Jesus delivers, the Spirit reveals. Patristric theologians of Orthodox tradition, described the co-equal dynamic of the Trinity as a perichoresis which literally means “a circular dance.” Many paintings depict this celestial frolic, illustrating that God is a community! We are invited into this joyous choreography! Does it help you to think about generational bridge-building as an opportunity to experience the Divine Dance?
The Corinthian text implies that the generations “need each other.” There are many ways, but let me suggest three. Firstly, the landscape of Eurocentric racial-capitalism is profoundly complex, and will take not only the “wokeness” of the young, and the historical perspective of the old, but also a collective theological interrogation of American Christianity toward a more faithful gospel witness. Secondly, weʼre going to need each other as the politicized pandemic spells frightening trouble ahead. Lastly, we can practice crossing cultures as the gospelʼs reconciling work. Intergenerational bridge-building is a “low-hanging fruit,” yes? If we can do this well, weʼll be better equipped to venture across the much deeper divides of Church and world.
Let's dance, shall we?
