Conversations with young adults increasingly tend toward discontent over the economic challenges facing our country.  I define contentment as “being satisfied with what you have.”  There seems to be little satisfaction with unemployment, student loans, credit card debt, and driving a beat-up 1992 Ford Escort.  Contentment is hard to come by these days, as we are in a valley of discontent.  Our Great Recession will prove to be formative for the generation entering the workforce during these years. 

     The unemployment rate among young adults is considerably greater than the current national 8.1%.   As baby boomers hold off retirement, the generation entering the work force is bumping into a wall.  This is creating immense anxiety and frustration.  A recent Newsweek magazine article cited that in 1960, almost 70 percent of men were married, had children, and started careers by age 30.  Today less than 30 percent can say the same.  This generation of males may be the first in our country’s history to be downwardly mobile.  Parents have always said, “I want my children to have more than I did.”  But after generations of progress, there is now regression.  And discontent. 

     This is a prime opportunity for the church to bring the gospel into a generation’s most formative years.  There are monuments that mark each generation, such as the Great Depression, WWII, Vietnam.  Along with 9/11, the Great Recession will affect young adults for decades to come.  It will inform how they see the world and how they respond to adversity.  How the church responds to the discontentment of this generation will be crucial to how young adults see the church for the rest of their lives. 

     First, this crisis is a prime opportunity to teach biblical contentment.  Paul says in I Timothy 6:6, “There is great gain in godliness with contentment.”  These are teachable moments in one’s life.  For a generation that has generally grown up with prosperity, such anxiety is a venue for developing character.  They must ask, “What do I really need?  What is ‘daily bread’?  Could it be that what I have right now is what I need and what God wants?”

     Second, the church must carefully apply the gospel.   From preachers to lay members, the whole church must be prepared to speak clearly to a generation frustrated and anxious.  A young adult may ask, “What does Jesus have to do with me living in my parent’s basement with an empty bank account?”  Such circumstances challenge one’s identity, security, and meaning in life.  A starting place to speak the gospel is to reaffirm that identity, security, and meaning are given to us in Christ (Galatians 2:2).  Our worth is not in what we do, but what’s been done to us.  The Son of God “loved me and gave himself for me.”  This gives me worth and value, even when it seems nobody wants me.

     Finally, like all crises, this is a moment for faith.  Faith is holding fast to God precisely in the midst of uncertainties (Heb. 11:1).  Martin Luther, in the Large Catechism, relates the first commandment to such faith that “clings” to God alone.  Times of anxiety and frustration are where a depth of faith is drawn out.  In discontent, everything else has let us down.  It is here that we find contentment in the One who never let’s us down.

Some practical suggestions for engaging frustrated and anxious young adults:

• Listen to a young adult.  Understand the frustration and anxiety of young adults looking for jobs, and starting careers.  (Don’t simply view them as “whiny kids.”)
• Pray for them and with them.
• Offer to keep your eyes open for employment opportunities and networking potential.  This shows that you actually listened to them and your prayers are genuine.
• Look for opportunities to teach faithful contentment (I Tim. 6:6).  Ask the question: “Could it be that what you have right now is exactly what you need?  Could it be that where you’re at right now is where God wants you?  What could God be teaching you in this?”

While observing an ore ship on Lake Superior,  fighting the NE winds out of Duluth, MN.

I set my face to the wind;
My bow to the breakers.

I point my nose in the untamed direction;
My hull to the white-capped waves.

I have seen the casualties of the tempest;
Vessels rusting in the deep.

But they had not my courage, nor my certainty.
They knew not my compass, nor my harbor.

I embark from the place of freedom.
I come from the sacred port.

I journey with One who has been to the distant shores.
I am captained by the Keeper of all horizons. 

“The ship is safest when it is in port.  But that’s not what ships were made for.” 
                                                                                                                                -  Paulo Coelho

     There is a time to harbor and rest.  And then there is a time to set sail and face the pounding surf.  It would seem much easier to sit at the port in a static state of comfort and ease.  It's much hard to follow the compass into a land-less horizon.  Such sailing is risky and perilous.  Lest we should tremble with fear, know that the Great Commission (Matt. 28:19-20) and Great Commandment (Matt. 22:37-39) demand the dangerous.  Love takes us into open seas that require the sailor to be relentless and tenacious, courageous and brave.  Sail boldly, for you know the harbor from which you depart and the Captain who leads on. 

     I was honored to be the preacher for my home congregation's 125th anniversary service this past weekend.  Trinity Lutheran Church in Sauk Rapids, Minnesota  got a nice little write-up in the St. Cloud Times.  My father, Paul, has served this congregation for 17 years.  In that time many things have happened, including a relocation from a historic building to a brand new facility on the edge of the growing city.  They also birthed a Sudanese immigrant ministry, and are training a man to be the pastor of this new mission.  Imagine these dark-skinned Sudanese dotting the landscape of lily white central central Minnesota. 

      At 125 years you begin to learn something.  You can look back at your heritage and track God's providential hand in the blessings as well as the tragedies.  I am grateful for heritage, especially as I stood next to my father in the worship service.  We represent a 5th and 6th generation of Lutheran pastors in the United State.  That is not a source of boasting or even a source of pride.  Rather, it is a source of humbling perspective.  There is an overwhelming sense that God has been up to something for a long time, and I get to participate in it.