Alive In France

France on Fire

Gen Z for Jesus

Every generation has its quirks. And every generation preceding it looks at them with curiosity or contempt. Only a few years separate us from Gen Z, but the way they dress, act and think can seem so foreign (mine and Andrew’s personal favourite is the quiet whisper-squeal, accompanied by hands fluttering back and forth in front of the face to indicate a “low-key overwhelmed” state).

With the older members of this generation now entering their thirties (my brother just celebrated his 30th), I find myself wondering: How are they finding their place in this rapidly changing world? And, most importantly, how are they finding Jesus?

Let’s start with some myth-busting, because the only person who loves myth-busting more than me is Andrew. I did some quick research, and so as not to bore you, here it is in a nutshell:

Gen Z are not lazy. They’re simply less interested in climbing the corporate ladder and, unlike their predecessors, can’t be motivated by the promise of a house they’ll probably never be able to afford.

They are addicted to their phones, and the level of exposure is a real concern… but so is the emerging phenomenon of what I’m calling “Geriatric Doomscrolling”.

There is a mental health crisis among them, with anxiety, loneliness and generally poor well-being on the rise, especially among teenage girls.

They engage less in risky behaviour than previous generations, but they’re growing up with unprecedented access to sexualised content online.

They are far more likely to identify as gender-fluid, but they’re by no means uniform in their views on the matter.

They are marrying later, or not at all, but this isn’t simply because Gen Z rejects family life. Housing costs, financial insecurity, working grandparents and increasingly insular families all make marriage and parenthood harder.

Despite concerns about an AI-driven future, they surprisingly remain optimistic about their own prospects. In short, the world may be doomed, but apparently they’ll be fine (…isn’t that called optimism bias?).

They do care about the state of society, but often choose to engage through online activism, ethical consumer choices and volunteering rather than traditional politics.

They are not all progressive atheists. In fact, a significant minority remain spiritually curious, and in Christian circles, I’d even say they’re on FIRE!

A new song

What stands out to me most is their resistance to being labelled. Unlike their grandparents, who were divided between the Hippies and the Squares, Gen Z just won’t fit into a box. Not in their style, their beliefs, and certainly not in their music.

This I’ve really come to appreciate.

I don’t know if your Spotify algorithm has been working as hard as mine, but I’ve been discovering an increasing number of Christian alternatives to our beanie-loving, circular-loft, Millennial, emo-worship music.

Forrest Frank is probably the most famous, but I’ve had the pleasure of listening to Josiah Queen, Strings & Heart, Gable Price and Friends, Gracie Binion, Ethan C. Davis, Jervis Campbell, bodie, Claire Leslie and Lydi Lynn, among others.

These artists represent a new wave of Christian indie and alternative music, which seems to be shifting the scene from “I make Contemporary Christian Music (CCM)” to “I’m a Christian making music”. Of course, this distinction has existed for decades, but whereas DC Talk once felt like the exception, now it seems to be becoming the norm.

CCM carried me through my twenties and, dare I even say, discipled me. But I’ve found it increasingly unsatisfactory for the space many of us now occupy as we grapple with a post-COVID, post-megachurch, post-burnout, post-one-sexual-scandal-after-another Christianity. I, for one, have found the music created by Gen Z artists extremely insightful and refreshing. In it, I’ve found space to authentically express my praises as I daily live and grapple with my messy faith.

Andrew and I have been loving this new wave of music so much that we couldn’t pass up the chance to jump on a train to see Josiah Queen and Strings & Heart live in Paris. We made a little getaway of it, enjoying a few days sans enfants, reconnecting with old friends from Church on Main days and catching up with new friends from New Ground.

It was such a gift.

The concert was so Jesus-centred, and halfway through, Trinity Queen (Josiah’s wife) shared a beautiful gospel message, inviting the prodigals to come home. We were among the oldest in the crowd (which didn’t exactly make us feel any younger!), but seeing so many young French people worshipping Jesus right in the heart of Paris was something special.

On fire, I tell you.

Of course, I still love a good old hand-clapping, out-of-breath-jumping, ugly-crying worship sesh. And those very much still exist among Gen Z! I had the wonderful privilege of sharing such moments with my Gen Z and Gen Alpha counterparts at one of Europe’s largest Christian youth festivals this summer.

Newday

What an experience.

Imagine a campsite hosting 17,000 people, of whom 12,000 are between the ages of 11 and 18. This event, which our French youth eagerly look forward to every year, is spectacularly phenomenal (or phenomenally spectacular).

I did have some reservations – mostly concerning the lack of toilets, the consumerism-oriented entertainment on offer during leisure time (my theology lecturer would have had much to say on the subject), and the decisions that some churches made around chaperoning (or the lack thereof).

But I was blown away by the quality of the unapologetic preaching, the hearts of the thousands of adults who cooked, cleaned, served, protected and prayed for the young people, and, most of all, the humble response of a generation hungry for truth and desiring Jesus.

Over seven days of worship, prayer, preaching, seminars, eating, camping and hanging out, God moved and touched their hearts. According to Newday’s official statistics, there were over 370 salvations, 97 recommitments and 314 healings. But those are just the reported numbers. We had kids who gave their lives to Jesus outside the official meetings and the big altar calls. We saw God speak into their situations through prophecy, heal wounds of the heart, encourage their faith and build lifelong friendships among them.

I had the privilege (and I really do count it as the greatest privilege) of being used by God in this setting and of being present for these young people as they navigate the questions and battles of life.

My prayer is that I’ll be given more opportunities to impact this generation, especially to help prepare them for the times to come…

What times to come?

Europe, and indeed France, is in a strange place at the moment. The climate is… at times chilling, and at times quite literally on fire. You may have seen on the news that it’s not just our wildlife that’s been burning lately… and as if that weren’t enough, even our supermarket fridges have struggled to stay cool!

France, in particular, has been hit by waves of cyber-attacks lately, one of the most alarming being the hijacking of refrigeration systems in over 700 French supermarkets. Hackers cranked up the temperatures to as high as 80°C, spoiling tens of millions of euros’ worth of produce in the process (to which our daughter’s perfect response was: “So all those animals died for nothing?” ☹️).

And besides the shock and disgust at such sheer waste, there’s something deeply unsettling about it all. After all, what better way to make people feel vulnerable than to target their food supply?

With Cold War tensions hanging over our heads like an unwelcome autumn fog, and the rising cost of living adding to the unease, people are feeling increasingly restless and unhappy. One group in particular is Gen Z students.

Globally, students have a history of protesting – something I personally support, because sometimes one needs to chant in the streets to see change. But France also has a history of violent rebellion against authority (something I do not support). There is a real socio-political and spiritual dynamic inherited from the days when Marie Antoinette brutally lost her head to the masses.

The students have good reason to ask for change. Their classrooms are overcrowded, absent teachers (who are retiring or burning out by the thousands) are not replaced, and they’re taught a Napoleonic curriculum that is completely outdated and unsuited to the current and future world. But whatever the students’ original intentions, the protests were overtaken by wayward and rebellious people who turned them into opportunities for theft, vandalism, violence, political instability and overall chaos.

Regardless of who did what and why, it points to broader themes that expose the fragility of the French government… the kind of fragility I never thought I’d see in Europe.

“Aren’t these kinds of events reserved for third-world countries ?” (She says in a posh Commonwealth accent, holding a china teacup with one finger in the air.)

Apparently not.

The point is that I grew up in a Europe that was full of certainty. The Berlin wall had been dismantled for good, the world was our oyster, and war and conflict were things of the past (or of far away countries that didn’t involve us). I think Europeans take peace and prosperity for granted, and the slightest hint that these things are no longer guaranteed causes deep fear.

And we all know that fear brings out the worst in people.

A sense of urgency…

What does all of this stir up in me?

Not fear.

We carry on with our lives. We don’t overexpose ourselves to the news. We pray and know that God is sovereign… but we don’t practise optimism bias either.

Two terms I’ve heard recently: Apocaloptimist andTrusting Pessimist.

The first comes from an American-Jewish artist and filmmaker, Daniel Roher, who recently made a really good documentary on the prospects of Artificial General Intelligence (AGI). I highly recommend it and (in true Gen Z style) encourage you to sign this petition afterwards.

This artist (and first-time dad) interviews many of the big Western players in the AGI race and concludes that, despite being terrified for the future of his child, he chooses to have hope and counter anxiety by finding beauty in the experience of daily, messy, mundane family life.

The second comes from Frédéric Travier, a middle-aged French travelling pastor whom I recently had the privilege of meeting. I heard him at the annual national gathering of missionaries and partners of the Child Evangelism Association (AEE).

Over three sermons, in a quiet and uncharismatic way, he unpacked apocalyptic literature and humbly presented his interpretation, which I found very striking. His teachings answered many of the questions I’ve had when reading through the books of Daniel and Revelation.

He is convinced that, regardless of whether Jesus is actually coming back in our lifetime or not (for only the Father knows), we are in the “final hour” and that, through the internet, we live in the Great Babylon described in the Scriptures. To him, God is not surprised by any technological advances and, in fact, even predicted them in the Scriptures. I won’t go into detail… but he was quite convincing (not least because he didn’t claim to have all the answers).

One thing he said that I want to highlight is that he preaches across a variety of denominations (from the very charismatic to the sensationalists), and he has found that, over the last five years, there is one thing everyone seems to agree on: there is a growing sense of urgency.

This, I find to be true too. It’s echoed in a variety of contexts, from the Instagram posts of Pete Greig at the 24-7 Prayer movement, to the songs of the Gen Z artists I referred to earlier, to the chambers of my own heart when I pray.

Jesus is coming back soon… whatever “soon” may mean.

Arise, O Church, from Your Slumber

This feeling only urges me to press on even harder and, in Josiah Queen’s words, “make heaven crowded”. It’s increasingly clear to all that Western governments can’t save us, and so my heart hurts for all those who have yet to find hope in the only One who can truly save us, not least my close family and friends.

My parents, my brother, their partners, my uncles and aunties, cousins, nephews, grandparents and childhood friends – all of whom we have the joy of seeing more regularly since our move to France – have yet to encounter the love and hope of Jesus.

My prayer for years has been: “Whatever it takes, Lord.”

This may be a dangerous prayer, but indeed, I am willing to live through hell on earth if it means that these people (and many more) get to share in the eternal blessing with us. And so, when we hear of “France on fire”, of AI bots going rogue and the “AI Shoggoth”, or of “wars and rumours of wars” (Matthew 24:6), I turn to God and ask that He use all things to bring the lost home to Him.

Andrew has accused me of being a little conspiracy theorist lately, and I admit that I do always harbour a slight suspicion that Russia is involved in anything that goes wrong. I am also counting down the days until my youngest is old enough to join the Scouts and learn to survive without electricity. And yes, I did buy seven days’ worth of food and fuel to store “just in case”. BUT, in my defence, I do not watch any YouTube videos!

I’m not a conspiracy theorist, but I’m not particularly optimistic either. Apocaloptimism feels a little too much like optimism bias to me, so I think (being a Millennial and, unlike my Gen Z counterparts, having an unceasing urge to analyse and categorise everything), I’d lean towards Trusting Pessimism. The world may well be doomed, but I trust in a good and almighty God who holds all things in His hands and who, at the end of it all, will come in great splendour and wipe away every tear.

There is one thing I draw from these two people. It is to be humble.

The first encourages us to humbly accept each day as it comes. To be grateful for the gift of life and the beauty of that gift, even in the face of baby vomit, toddler tantrums and teenage angst. The other encourages us to humbly accept that we are not immortal, that time is of the essence, and that at any moment the bridegroom may return for his bride.

So my question is: Is the Church ready? Am I ready?

Firstly, am I letting the mundane prepare me for the glorious? Secondly, am I keeping my lamp alight, and indeed, am I storing up extra oil as I wait?

My prayer is not that Gen Z and Gen Alpha would be “on fire” in the sense that they burn with zeal and then burn out, leaving room for despondency and disbelief… but that they would burn with the quiet, constant flame of those in Jesus’ parable waiting for their bridegroom, enduring all things for the sake of the gospel.

I’ve been reading Foxe’s Book of Martyrs and the book of Hebrews lately… May we endure like the early Christians did, so that we may share in an even greater resurrection. And may we prepare our young to endure.

Preparing the Next Generation

Being ready is what has been on my mind. Not just being ready myself, but readying the next generation in their faith. My heart’s desire is to disciple and equip them because, physical war or not, we are in a spiritual battle.

This is felt in the European Church, including here in France, where bureaucracy, administration and first world problems and distractions can make it increasingly difficult to live out our faith in community.

Here are three areas you can pray into:

1. Relationship
This is where it all starts. Discipleship without relationship can only go so far. This is something I find lacking in the French Church. Pray for the Christian families who, whether by choice or out of necessity, end up prioritising worldly demands over spending time in fellowship with one another. Our children learn so much about what matters by watching what we prioritise, and when Christian fellowship continually takes a back seat, we risk teaching them that it isn’t all that important.

Pray that these families would have a fresh revelation of the power of relationships, and a growing desire for genuine intimacy and vulnerability. And please pray that we’ll continue to have opportunities to build meaningful relationships with others, and that I’ll have opportunities to do the same with the youth.

2. Discipleship
There is a real lack of resources and content in the Francophone world to support child and youth ministers. Every time I prepare a lesson based on the content we have available here, I end up rewriting it completely because I’m deeply dissatisfied with the theology. I don’t want to teach mere moralism, but a gospel-centred message that convicts and transforms.

God seems to be opening doors for me to develop this with the AEE and within New Ground churches. Please pray that He gives me (and others called to the same sphere) opportunities and partners to create new content for this generation.

3. Impact
We’ve been rattling on for years about the need to engage people through their senses, rather than simply their minds. This September, one of our guest pastors from Paris introduced our local congregation to the works of John Mark Comer and James K. A. Smith (woohoo! Better late than never!).

But what does that mean for the children? My heart is to immerse our children in yearly “rituals” (for lack of a better word) and “celebrations” that remind them of the biblical narrative of which they are a part. This, I feel, we’re already beginning to put in place in our local church, but we need much prayer and wisdom if we’re to establish anything with lasting impact.

The Command to Celebrate

I’ll end with this.

In France, our famillies have five yearly landmarks: La Rentrée (back to school after two months of summer Sabbath); Halo La Vie (“Hello Life”, an event created to counter Halloween by celebrating Jesus’ victory over death); Christmas (followed by New Year’s); Easter; and Kermesse (a family-centred end-of-year party that marks the end of the school year and the beginning of summer).

Every culture has its landmarks, but I love that France’s are so seasonal. And as much as we complain that the French are always on holiday, we love these opportunities to celebrate and give thanks to God, who invented yearly celebrations!

In my last newsletter, I shared about our wonderful Easter event. In July, we also held our Kermesse (centred around Eternal Life); in September, we had our church weekend away (centred around Transformation); and in October, we hosted an epic Halo La Vie party (centred around the Resurrection).

Kermesse on the 5th of July

Halo La Vie on the 31st of October

On all these occasions, we go beyond the fun and games of an event and use these opportunity to immerse the children in the biblical narrative and share the gospel. We use theatrical presentations, escape games and engaging activities to reach their emotional memories instead of simply speaking to their minds.

What I’d like to see is not only the faith of our children being strengthened through these events, but also their growing boldness to invite their school friends and neighbours, so that we may have the opportunity to share the good news with many, many children.

That is my heart.

So please pray that, if it is God’s will, we would be given the opportunity, authority and energy to establish these rituals and celebrations, not only in our church but in other churches across France.

What strikes me in the Scriptures is that God didn’t merely permit Israel to celebrate. He commanded them to. He actually built festivals, feasts and rejoicing into the rhythm of their lives. And perhaps there’s something we modern Christians have forgotten: celebration is a spiritual discipline. It’s how we remember God’s goodness, practise gratitude and remind one another that, however bleak things might look, the story isn’t over yet.

I guess that is where I land… Maybe I’m not just a pessimist who trusts, but

a pessimist who celebrates.

We are called to celebrate his goodness and give Him praise no matter the circumstances of our world, our country, or our lives. This I want to do well until the day he returns.

Much love to you all.

P.S. In the spirit of life-giving “rituals”, Andrew and I are (re)implementing in our own home and with our own children no-phone Saturdays (and Sabbath), Friday evening family time (games or a movie), and daily morning children’s storybook Bible reading (and prayer).

I’ve seen a difference in our kids’ engagement with Jesus and in the peace they carry when we do these things. Please pray that we have the self-discipline to continue, especially during the recurring holidays when our routine gets interrupted.