by Mary Mortimore Dossin

Many faithful church–going parents grieve when their adolescent and adult children scorn or ignore the faith that their parents carefully nurtured in them when they were small. A pastor and former classmate of mine is forlorn that her daughter, our godchild, wants nothing to do with the church. She was married in a civil ceremony with no role for her mother and she chose not to baptize her daughter. A former student of mine, a woman of deep faith, "did everything according to Dobson" and now finds her four sons defiant and rebellious. The younger son of another former student is angry and confused and contemptuous of his parents’ exuberant Pentecostal faith. Another friend once told me that it is a deep sorrow for her that her grandchildren are being "raised as little heathens."

The passing on of faith through the generations is a fragile thing, and for a while I thought my family’s thread had broken. There was a long stretch of time when I thought I would never see my entire family together in church again.

I remember the day we dropped off our son EJ at Valparaiso University to begin college. We worshiped that morning at the soaring Chapel of the Resurrection, my favorite building in the world, the place where my own faith had begun to grow and mature. My husband told me later he was deeply moved to have been in the chapel we both attended faithfully during our college years and now was overcome to see the blessing that had grown from that, a family worshiping together. Immediately after the service, we said goodbye to EJ and began the long drive back to upstate New York. EJ stood alone as we pulled out of the parking lot, poised between two lives: his old life in the world of his family, and his new life in the larger world.

We hoped that college would be the same kind of world for him that it had been for us: daily chapel, religion courses, chapel choir, theological lectures, and late-night talks with friends about faith. But EJ chose a different path. He stayed on it for more than twelve years. It included a vague sense of "God in nature" but little else in the way of religion. When EJ came home on vacations, I liked to take him out for lunch. I hadn’t realized I was being tiresome until one day EJ answered my invitation to lunch with, "Only if you promise not to talk to me about my faith." So, nagging didn’t work.

A dozen years later, when his daughter Cassidy was born, EJ decided he wanted her to have the kind of religious training and community he had growing up, and his family has been faithful at church attendance ever since. I give a lot of credit to my daughter–in–law; she didn’t grow up in a church–going family, but now she teaches Sunday school. And finally, there we all were, gathered together in their candlelit church on the night of the Easter Vigil to welcome nine children, including Cassidy, into the fellowship of Holy Communion.

After the Service of Light and the Service of Readings, the familiar liturgy of the Service of Holy Communion began. All the lights in the church were turned on, and I looked around at the other families gathered for this event, probably as motley a crew as had ever gathered to be near Jesus. Some were dressed elegantly, others wore T–shirts, and there were all varieties in between. It’s clear from Scripture that Jesus specializes in motley crews. The consistently well–turned–out Pharisees were not his crowd. I began to weep happily as I pondered the diverse and precarious paths that had led all of us to this holy gathering.

Families went forward together to receive the Eucharist, and it pleased me that Cassidy was surrounded by her family as she first tasted the bread and the wine. I wept some more.

Our son Toby, eleven years younger than his brother, shows no interest in faith or church, and I can’t know whether he will do the same kind of turnaround his brother did when he has a family of his own. What are we to do about our straying children?

The story of the prodigal son offers a clue. When they return, give a party rather than a lecture. And meanwhile? Certainly there are no guarantees, but here’s what I learned during EJ’s hiatus of faith that I am now practicing with Toby.

• Keep the child in daily prayer. My own prayer is that God work out God’s will in my sons’ lives. I also pray daily that God will bless EJ and his family’s efforts to be a faithful family.

• Love the child no matter what. This exemplifies God’s love for us, which is unconditional and never gives up, just as Christ died for us while we were yet sinners. Our love for our children does not depend on their having a stance on religion that we agree with or approve. We love them because they are God’s gift to us.

• Set an example of a joyful, faithful life. It is our calling to make the gospel attractive to others. I know my sons discuss some of the tantrums I threw when they were younger: ripping up rock posters, throwing record albums out into the snow. It doesn’t take much cool logic to see that this is not an effective way to diminish the influence of popular culture on our children. Forgiveness is an essential part of daily family life and makes true joy possible. Laughter heals!

• Keep the connection — even if it seems to mean nothing to them. There can be long periods of silence between us, longer if our children sense we don’t approve of their lifestyle. It’s up to us to keep the connection as much as we are able.

• Trust the work of the Holy Spirit. We can’t force faith on our children. As the mother of four rebellious sons says, "I turn my children over to God. They are God’s children." Our pastor makes this point, too: "We make our invitation and witness and then trust the Holy Spirit to do the rest." For goal–oriented people like me, this is a lesson in patience, humility, faith.

My gift to Cassidy at her first communion was my mother’s Bible, well-used and worn. Before I sent it off to be rebound in blue leather, I leafed through it to remove items my mother had tucked inside. I found a card with a Prayer for Young People Away from Home. I was deeply touched to realize she had prayed this prayer for me, and I had never known it. It says, in part,

Fill them with the joy of Your salvation. Remind them that Your eye is on them and that they are in Your heart. Reach out to them with the hand of Your forgiveness, Your love, Your providence, and Your protection. Keep them close to You and close to us. Amen.

I pray this prayer every day for Toby, my godchildren, and the other young people I know who have fallen away from the faith, trusting that God will answer in God’s own time.

I take comfort in the verse, "Train children in the right way, and when old, they will not stray" (Proverbs 22:6). I remember that there is sometimes a long wait between the planting and the flowering. God is at work in the deep–down soil. It can be hard to live, as we always do, in the in–between time, but that’s where we are in this world.

Falling Away or Taking a Break?
EJ’s journey away from practicing his faith and back again isn’t unusual, researchers say.

The Gallup Organization has been polling Americans on their religious beliefs since the late 1930s. In 2002, they wrote, "Gallup has observed a cyclical ebb and flow among Americans since the 1930s, which indicates that Americans find religion early in life and lose some during young adulthood, only to find it again as they mature."

The pollster asks Americans whether they attended worship services during the last seven days. In the 2000 survey, high attendance was reported among early teens (54 percent for ages 13–15) and much lower attendance among young adults (32 percent for ages 18–29). However, among adults ages 30 to 49, reported attendance is higher: 39 percent. That proportion continued to climb for older ages. Patterns similar to this have been observed for decades.

Not attending church doesn’t mean not believing in God, however. Gallup reports that since the late 1930s, an average of 95 percent of Americans interviewed over the years have always said they did. That holds true for teens and young adults as well.

Gallup suggests that as young adults progress through their twenties, have children, and settle into a community, religion becomes more important to them. Most Americans want their children to have a religious upbringing, and that desire draws them back to church.

(Sources: "The Religiosity Cycle," Gallup News Service, June 4, 2002; The Religious Life of Young Americans, George H. Gallup International Institute, 1992; Religion in America, Princeton Religion Research Center, 1996.)