Most Americans Under 30 Do Not Trust Any Religion(I’M to beat the bejesus out of U)

 

 This segment of an addendum to a series about Americans moving away from religion. Read part onepart twopart threepart four, and part five. The Source for this posting came from The New York Times and  

Opinion Writer.


The jest of Jessica's piece for the NYTimes is that about 40% of Americans under 30 don't trust any religion. I wanted to concentrate on the part that she wrote applicable to LGBT who have been mistreated, abused, or killed by people who identified as Christians, Muslims, etc But in the USA is mainly so-called Christians. 
Im double that age of 30 and Am educated in Religion having studied in a formal Institution for 5 years I don't trust any religion either but I go further in that I don't trust those who say they belong to a Christian religion. In my own mind I can not comprehend how you say you love Jesus and Jesus loves me but Im going to beat the bejesus out of you or take your job or not sell or rent to you because you are not like me, a Jesus-loving and following Christian of which some dare to say they are born again when that means you left your sinning life and have become a better person. What types of sins? Just go by what your Jesus said but they don't. They go by anyone in the Bible or their TV who identifies with their beliefs no matter how outrageous they are. There is nothing worse than trying to argue or inform one of those people. They say sinners have their hearts close to Jesus but then so are they.


When I talked to several readers under 30 about moving away from the faith traditions they were brought up in, more than one used the metaphor of a Jenga tower: When they lost faith in the religion they were raised in, it was as if load-bearing blocks were being removed and eventually the entire structure collapsed.

Elizabeth Hildreth, 29, grew up Southern Baptist and lives in Georgia. She said that for her, while there were shifts away from the faith tradition that she experienced over time, the first load-bearing block that pulled away represented abortion — she became more open-minded about the issue during the 2020 election. “Once there was a fracture that couldn’t reconcile,” she said, the whole worldview she was raised with “was subject to internal interrogation.”

Hildreth told me that she was brought up with very black-and-white thinking on a lot of issues. Though she still admires and appreciates many of the values that were part of her upbringing, once she started seeing shades of gray, it caused her to question anyone who held outsize power. “After 2020, looking at history and looking at the other institutions,” she said, it’s become much easier to be critical.

Jadon George, 20, who lives in Philadelphia, said many moments caused him to question the Christianity he was raised with, but the final straw was the sexual assault accusations against Ravi Zacharias, a now deceased evangelist whom his family used to listen to on the radio. “He knew how to hold an audience in the palm of his hand,” George told me.

Zacharias cautioned male leaders not to be alone with women: “I have long made it my practice not to be alone with a woman other than Margie and our daughters — not in a car, a restaurant or anywhere else,” he reportedly said. But several women alleged that in private he wasn’t just alone with them, he harassed and assaulted them. It particularly bothered George that a witness told independent investigators that Zacharias said she shouldn’t speak out against him, “or she would be responsible for the ‘millions of souls’ whose salvation would be lost if his reputation was damaged.” 

George started to question whether his faith was meant to be about connecting with God and doing good for others or if it was, “in the more insidious version of it,” a way for powerful men “to give cover to themselves.”

Several under-30s whom I spoke to said their views on L.G.B.T.Q. acceptance and the role of women in their churches were also factors in their moves away from organized religion. Evan Moss, 29, who lives in Arkansas and was raised in Oklahoma, said that coming out as gay was inextricably tied to his move away from organized religion. While he knows that many churches are L.G.B.T.Q. affirming, he said, “It seems like almost all discrimination against queer people is really tied up in religious belief.” When the congregation he grew up in cut ties with the United Methodist denomination because it was too open to L.G.B.T.Q. rights, Moss said that even though he had moved away from religion at that point, it still felt like “a slap in the face.”

Here’s one more interesting wrinkle: According to Burge, the “long-held trend” of women being more religious than men seems to be flipping for younger generations. His research has shown that “with those born in 2000 or later, women are clearly more likely to be nones than men.” The relationship between Christianity and conservative politics may be related here — as young women increasingly are more liberal than young men, they may be more inclined to move away from religion.

Even though being a non tends to be culturally accepted among younger Americans, that doesn’t mean that distancing oneself from religion is easy. Kevin Miller, who is 29 and lives in Tennessee, also used the Jenga analogy — after one block fell, it all collapsed pretty easily. But he underscored how painful the experience has been for him: “Especially in my faith journey,” he said, “there’s such a heavy emphasis on, it’s like, you and Jesus. And I really felt like Jesus was my very best friend. And so to move beyond that was losing your closest friend.” Building a fulfilling world back up took him years.

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