Gen Z won’t save the Church

News outlets are buzzing with the claim that Gen Z is leading a new wave of church attendance. The Barna numbers confirm it: Young adults are showing up more often than their parents or grandparents. After decades of decline, that feels like good news.

It’s tempting to view this as a turning point, a sacred plot twist worthy of Hollywood. The numbers rise, the pews fill, and we feel the urge to declare revival. Yet this is a moment for pause, for a deep breath. Gratitude, yes. But caution too.

The danger lies in treating Gen Z as a savior generation. Every few decades, the church hangs its hopes on the young, convinced this time the torchbearers will carry us into a golden age. In the 1960s, it was the Jesus Movement. Barefoot kids crowded the beaches with guitars and Bibles, baptizing one another in the surf. There was passion, and there was promise. Some of it endured. Much of it faded.

By the decade’s end, many who once sang choruses under the California sun had drifted into other pursuits, leaving a legacy touched by both revival and regret. The pattern repeats itself—seen in the Great Awakenings, the campus revivals of the 1990s, and the wave of evangelical youth conferences in the 2000s. Each moment brought real sparks, and some lit lasting fires. Again and again, however, the church learned that energy alone cannot sustain renewal.

The young bring imagination and intensity. They can sing with sincerity, serve with zeal, and ask questions others are afraid to raise. They’re less tied to routine, quicker to take risks, and eager to pursue new paths. Those are gifts worth honoring, but youth also brings volatility. Conviction can rise quickly, but it can fade just as fast. The daring, the impatience, the restless idealism that make the young so compelling can also leave them unsteady. They’re still finding their footing, still learning the steady habits that anchor faith over a lifetime.

Which is why renewal cannot rest on age or numbers. It must be built on discipleship. And discipleship is slow. It will never trend. It will never go viral. It takes years of teaching and training, of failing and forgiving, of walking forward and slipping back. It is plain, often hidden, yet always essential. Without it, the fire of youth flickers, then fades.

If the church puts too much hope in Gen Z to bring renewal, we risk both disappointment and a misunderstanding of faith itself. Christianity has never depended on the passion of the young, the steadiness of the old, or the size of the crowd. It rests on Christ, who promised to build His church. Young people are part of that promise, but they’re not the whole of it. They’re not the saviors. They’re fellow sinners who need one.

Context matters too. Barna’s study shows Gen Z attending more often, but it also shows overall participation continuing to slide. Fewer people of any age now identify as Christian. The increase in frequency may not signal a wave of fresh belief, but simply a shrinking pool where those who remain are more committed. The wheat and the chaff, to borrow a biblical image, are beginning to separate. That is not necessarily bad, but it is hardly proof of a sweeping revival.

We also must consider the cultural moment. For Gen Z, church is not the unquestioned norm it once was. Choosing to attend marks them out. That choice may be more deliberate, more countercultural, than in earlier generations. Again, that is good news. But youth culture is fickle. What feels bold at 20 may feel burdensome at 30. What seems fresh now may seem stifling later. Trends can turn as quickly as they come.

So what should we do with the Gen Z bump? Celebrate it, certainly. Encourage it, absolutely. But temper it as well. Pair youthful passion with seasoned steadiness. Let their vision be rooted in the experience of those who have endured. Renewal has always called for a mixture of boldness and balance, of urgency and understanding. It is a shared labor, one that all believers must shoulder together.