Dear Grandma, we need you at church.
In this recent season of ministry (both at Harbor and in-person), a theme has emerged: we need relationships in different generations in order to heal and grow.
Over the weekend, I told my 83-year-old grandma we need her at church. Let me explain. I have been the interim pastor at a new church in Orange County, California, that primarily hosts folks in their 20s and 30s. While there are younger children and some folks in their 40s and 50s, it is obvious this is a “young church.” Since I have started my role there, my grandma comes on Sundays and she sticks out like a sore thumb. She is always the oldest by at least 30 years. But every week when she walks up and I greet her with “Hi, Grandma,” people light up and smile. So over the weekend when she told me, “I thought I’d come to church tomorrow,” I responded with utter delight. “Oh I’m so glad—we need you!” She was surprised, so I shared with her what I’ve seen happening in ministry over the last year.
Young people are missing accepting parents, aunties, and grandparents.
Several people in their 20s and 30s have told me how much they miss being in community with people older than them. Many have shared that their own families don’t accept them (whether that’s for their LGBTQ+ identity or progressive theology, or a host of other reasons). While folks have appreciated new forms of inclusive church that attract young people, they have also missed sharing meals with older folks. One gal, a lesbian 21-year-old college student and daughter of a non-affirming pastor, lamented, “I’m just around people my age all the time. I miss having people of different ages invested in my life and mine in theirs.” That prompted me to tell her about Harbor.
I think one of the superpowers of our community at Harbor is that we are an intergenerational community. In the two years I’ve been at Harbor, I have witnessed many of us heal our own church, family, and religious wounds through being in community with one another. As many of you know, on that Zoom screen you can expect to see people as young as 6 months old (my baby) to those in their mid-80s. We gather on Zoom across generations and geographical locations and choose to be in community together.
We all have different roles. Some people in our community are clearly the grandparent figures of Harbor—they are older and anchor our community with wisdom, a listening ear, and so much life experience. Some people in our community are the “mama bears'' who offer unconditional parental love, acceptance, and care, especially to those who have been rejected by their families. Some people are the aunts and uncles who were never able to have children of their own and come to Harbor both being cared for and caring for people across generations—as if we are their own. Some people are the older or younger sibling, sharing life updates that range from silly stories to medical hardships, career shifts, or cat memes. Some are young people who stumbled into Harbor along the way on their wild adventures—reminding us of the joy and life of youth! Some people at Harbor join us as they sit on their caretakers’ laps. They make silly faces and noises, blessing us with their pure unfiltered goofy presence.
Our little Zoom church is a place where many of us have healed our deepest wounds and held one another in our most vulnerable places—and that has happened because we are an intergenerational community.
This is by no means a dig on “young churches.” Communities all have their different superpowers. This reflection is just an affirmation and a reminder that whatever you are bringing to Harbor or your church community—it is needed. It is good. We heal, grow, and learn so much as we are in community with people in different ages and life stages.
