As to the young people, my wife and I had many conversations that indicated a real desire to find roots in the historic Christian faith. Many had backgrounds in Brethren churches, rooted in Anabaptism. They were appropriately grateful for the love of Jesus and the pastoral care that their Brethren churches had shown them, but they were aware that in a world where the broader culture is increasingly indifferent to or even hostile to the faith, they needed more solid food: coherent doctrine expressed in thoughtful, well-structured worship that draws upon the historic, confessional resources of traditional Christianity.
The news from Europe is dominated by the U.K. and French elections—and the apparent chaos that the latter in particular seems to anticipate. It might be easy to dismiss the continent as being in the death-throes of an old world order. Our world is one where despair is very chic, predictions of apocalyptic doom are effective clickbait, and the very online political classes of both extremes are happy to capitalize on peddling these narratives in which they have a vested interest. But having just returned from nearly three weeks in Europe, I am happy to report that there are other stories worth reflecting upon.
While there, I spoke at four church gatherings, one in Germany and three in the Netherlands. The first, for the organization Evangelium21, was in Hamburg. It was attended by over 1200 people, leaders and lay. The vast majority were under the age of thirty. At fifty-seven, I think I may well have been the oldest person in the building. In the Netherlands, I spoke at a conference of several hundred organized by Tyndale Seminary, then at a larger gathering sponsored by the group Bijbels Beraad. Finally, I agreed to speak at a youth gathering on a Thursday night to give two lectures. Over six hundred young people, aged sixteen–twenty-four, turned up to listen to me speak on the roots of modern anxiety and then on the theology of public worship. That was on a school night.
Everywhere I went, my wife and I had remarkable conversations both with pastors and young people. Pastors feel the same pressure in Europe that many experience here: the need to allow the politicians to determine their priorities, whether the demands of the progressive internationalists or the reactive nationalists. They are aware of this pressure and understand the danger of speaking gospel truth only to one side of the political divide. Short-term strategic truncation of the gospel is too easily a prelude to a long-term Christianity that is no Christianity. Political expediency, like cultural relevance, is a fickle and imperious mistress. Pastors well-grounded in the creedal truths of the faith understand this.