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5 min read

The welcome surprise of church growth

Beyond the noise of scandal and politics, a low and steady hum resonates. It’s the sound of a quiet revival.

Lauren Westwood works in faith engagement communications for The Salvation Army.

A cover of a book show a cross and the title 'You are loved'.
Rod Long on Unsplash.

‘More young men turned up at church for the first time this morning.’

‘Suddenly our pews are filled with twenty-somethings.’

‘A new family is coming on Sundays. Their teenage daughter has been dragging them along.’

I can believe it.

If you’ve heard similar things about church congregations over the past few years, you’re likely to have heard the same caveat: anecdotally, of course. These conversations have long been coloured with an undertone of confusion and uncertainty.

The Bible Society has released a landmark piece of research that has uncovered the data to back up these anecdotes about growth in churchgoing in England and Wales. The Quiet Revival is based on findings of a survey of adults in England and Wales in 2018 and 2024, undertaken by YouGov.

This set of robust data supports that anecdotal swell around church engagement in recent years, particularly among young men. It evidences a growing Church, the increased positive impact of it in communities, and spiritual openness among the young. It paints a picture of an multi-ethnic and multi-generational Church that is transforming alongside an ever-evolving cultural landscape and a shifting national understanding. This is exciting stuff.

The report identifies a general increase of people who go to church at least once a month and call themselves a Christian from 8 to 12 per cent. It presents a radical shift among young adults between 18-24, all within the Generation Z cohort, as being more likely to fit this definition of churchgoers than any generation except for those over 65. In a further reversal of norms, the research sees men as more likely to attend church than women across most ages, but especially among under-35s. Critically the report outlines that this is ‘not a case of young men joining while young women are leaving’, but of mutual increase in church attendance.

It seems that, just maybe, Christianity is cool.

Gen Z are the most likely to believe in God and to pray regularly. Just under two-thirds would be happy for a Christian friend to pray for them, and 47 per cent of non-churchgoing Gen Z believe it is a good thing for Christians to talk about their faith with non-Christians. This signals a move from attributing growth to the sole influence of cultural commentators or media personalities, and towards confident local Christians sharing faith between friends. Rather than being spurred on by influencers and intellectuals, the greatest impact comes from relationships and in-person invitation.

However, this remarkable openness to religion and experiential spirituality among Gen Z is not straightforward: a third agree that the Bible is a source of harm in the world. This is no longer an anecdotal curiosity; this is real, documented growth exhibited in an emerging spiritual generation, received by a cultural atmosphere that is warming to faith.

Going to church is good for you. In an age of self-help phenomena, The Quiet Revival positions the Church as an antidote to fragmented social lives and mental health crises. Churchgoers of all ages are more likely than non-churchgoers to be happy, to possess hope for the future and to believe that their life is meaningful, as well as being less likely to say they’re feeling anxious or depressed. Critically, these findings are true for young churchgoers, giving further reason behind their flocking to churches. Quite simply, it makes them happier.

It’s a balm to a generation – particularly young men – who are digitally surrounded but socially isolated. Going to church leads to better connection to people in the wider community, with nearly two-thirds of 18–34-year-old churchgoers feeling close to people in their local area, compared to just a quarter of their non-churchgoer peers. Looking specifically at young men in church, this increases to 68 per cent, presenting an incredible opportunity for churches to cut through the loneliness epidemic.

‘The difference is staggering,’ remarks Dr Rob Barward-Symmons, one of the reports authors. ‘It paints a picture of young adults who have found a deep sense of meaning and life satisfaction through attending church regularly, who feel connected to their communities and – in the data we have gathered on their social action – are keen to give back to their local communities as well. This is not the image we typically see of young adults in the media, but it is a powerful one.’

Going to church isn’t just good for you, it’s also good for your community. Perhaps The Quiet Revival’s deepest encouragement lies in its glimpse of a faith-in-action Christianity. The research shows a picture of churchgoers who are not just concerned for their own wellbeing, but who want to improve the lives of others - 78 per cent of all churchgoers agreeing that making a difference in the world is important.

In particular, the churches' younger generations desire social change, possess confidence and investment in effecting positive change, and a responsibility to contribute to their communities. Acts such as regularly donating to charity, supporting a local food bank, and participating in environmental improvement activities are seen as the outworkings of Christian faith in action. It indicates the consequences of churchgoing through a deep embodying of God’s love and the passing of this love to others.

‘These are the markers of whether you’re a true believer or not,’ adds Dr Krish Kandiah, sharing his own encouragement in the findings. ‘It’s not whether you turn up at church, have signed a confession or sing the songs. Jesus expounds on how to tell whether you’re in the Kingdom or not: “I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink.”’

Now we’ve got the numbers, we’re left with questions. How can we respond? Where will this lead us? Are we witnessing the death of nominal Christianity? To say the findings have caught the Church off-guard may be an understatement. The 2024 survey happened to go to field on the day that news broke of Archbishop of Canterbury Justin Welby’s resignation. We are living in times of political unrest. Religion and just about everything else is weaponised. The poverty gap is increasing, and not just in material poverty.

The reality is that we all have a part to play. The report is inclusive in its approach and recommendations. The first call is for an increased recognition of the scale and impact of churchgoers, something that can be adopted by social influencers and decision-makers. The following recommendations are more directed to those within the Church, to prioritise discipleship and Bible teaching, to cultivate intentional intergenerational spaces where each churchgoer is empowered to tell their story, and to put emphasis on building interpersonal relationships.

Beyond the noise of scandal and political Christianity, a soft, low and steady hum resonates. It doesn’t dictate; it shares. It doesn’t drown others out; it listens. It doesn’t withhold; it invites. It prizes action over words. This is the sound of quiet revival.

 

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Truth and Trust
6 min read

The BBC and the quest for Truth

Space for neutrality is shrinking; two French philosophers explain why

Graham is the Director of the Centre for Cultural Witness and a former Bishop of Kensington.

BBC News logo.
BBC.

Watching American news always feels very different from the British version. Changing channels from CNN to Fox News feels like you're switching to a different universe altogether, as on each one you're getting a very different interpretation of events. The BBC has always been thought to rise above this. In the UK and beyond, through the World Service, the Beeb has, until recently, been viewed as an oasis of impartial, authoritative reporting in a world of propaganda and state-run media.

Now, allegations of bias, with evidence that BBC editors doctored a speech of Donald Trump to make it sound worse than it was, one-sided coverage of transgender issues, and perceived anti-Israel prejudice, have led to doubts about the truthfulness of BBC reporting, and the resignations of the Director General Tim Davie and its CEO, Deborah Turness.

It does seem that the BBC has fallen into an echo chamber, reflecting the generally liberal, metropolitan left-leaning ethos of the chattering classes. And that is a problem, especially for a taxpayer-funded corporation. At the same time, it is much harder for media companies these days to be neutral. Once upon a time, there was perhaps a broad space for impartiality and a general trust that institutions like the BBC could be trusted to tell the truth. Trying to be politically and culturally balanced these days, however, is like trying to walk along an ever narrowing mountain arête with an increasingly slim path of independence, while the steep and sheer slopes of the culture wars beckon on either side. The idea of a media platform maintaining strict neutrality is becoming harder and harder to sustain these days.

In Britain, that narrow arête has become smaller and smaller, with the BBC perceived as falling on one side of the debate, and GB News emerging to offer a perspective from the other, offering different assessments on what's going on, increasingly mirroring their American counterparts.

Now there is a reason why this space for neutrality is narrowing, rooted in cultural and philosophical developments over the past 50 years or more.

Foucault’s challenge

In the 1970s and early 80s, French philosopher Michel Foucault taught a whole generation of students - and his ideas became embedded in universities across the world - that claims to truth were in essence assertions of power. Foucault had been a Marxist, believing that power had to be wrested away from the hands of the ruling classes and placed in the hands of the proletariat. After the Paris student riots of the late 1960s, he changed his mind and started to believe that power is never concentrated in one place. It flows in multiple directions in any human relationship or institution. In such interactions, all kinds of power dynamics are at play, and you need to be very watchful to notice how they work. Power produces ‘truth’ - in other words a justification for its existence - and such ‘truth’ produces power, in that this ‘truth’ reinforces the power relations it was designed to justify. He often claimed not to be making a moral judgement – in fact moral judgments were irrelevant: “My point”, he said, “is not that everything is bad, but that everything is dangerous.” If all truth is power, then nothing is neutral. Everything is dangerous. You can’t trust anyone.

The result is that there is really no such thing as a neutral, absolute truth. All claims to truth come from a particular perspective on things. There is no ‘view from nowhere’ that stands above all our limited perspectives, and therefore the idea of finding ultimate absolute truth is fruitless.

Foucault’s target was the idea inherited from the Enlightenment that we could find truth through impartial rational inquiry. So for him, the idea that something like the BBC was an arbiter of neutral, rational truth was a mirage all along. The irony is that if the BBC has drifted into a left-leaning echo chamber, it has wandered into space deeply influenced by Foucault’s ideas – ideas which by definition make its claim to any kind of neutrality increasingly difficult to sustain.

The prevalence of these ideas explains why it is harder and harder for news outlets to remain neutral, or claim to offer the truth of things. 

Pascal’s perspective

So what does Christian theology say to this? At one point in his Pensées, another French philosopher, Blaise Pascal (unlike Foucault, a Christian one from the seventeenth century), says to the Foucault-type sceptic of his own day:

“I maintain that a perfectly genuine sceptic has never existed. Nature backs up helpless reason and stops it going so wildly astray.”

In other words, it's impossible to be a total sceptic about truth. Even the most progressive philosopher puts the kettle on and expects it to boil. He wakes in the morning expecting the sun to rise. There is such a thing as capital-T Truth and an order to the world that we didn’t create, and can be relied upon. We simply have to receive it and be grateful for it.

So far, so conservative. Yet Pascal then casts doubt on our ability to know that truth absolutely:

“Let us then concede to the sceptics what they have so often proclaimed, that truth lies beyond our reach and is an unattainable quarry, that it is not to be found here on earth, but really belongs in heaven, lying in the lap of God, to be known only in so far as it pleases him to reveal it.”

Perhaps surprisingly, Pascal agrees with Foucault, that absolute truth is unattainable to us here, at least if we think we can find it by some process of impartial human reason. Only God knows the truth. Our perspectives are inevitably limited and the only way we can know the ultimate truth is if it is revealed to us.

Which points to the heart of what a Christian believes about truth - that ultimately it is not so much rational and propositional but personal. Jesus does not say ‘here is the truth’, or ‘this is the truth’, but ‘I am the truth’.

Truth, in other words, is not just something you read on a page. It is not the product of brainy people sitting in a room analysing the data. Data always has to be interpreted and that's when fallible, inevitable and unspoken human prejudice creeps in. Truth is personal. You see it in a life – most perfectly in the life of Jesus. And if it is to be found here and now, it comes out of a life that has learned to be like Jesus, truthful in all kinds of simple personal interactions, honest even when it's inconvenient, generous even when you have little to give.

Truth, in Christian understanding, is a quality of life. It is not something that can be expected to arise from some august body of clever people – the Royal Society or the BBC. The BBC, like ITN, GB News, CNN, and Fox – and like the rest of us - will always be biased - and maybe it’s better to acknowledge that than try to hide it. To have a limited take on things is part of the human condition.

The only way we can rise above that to the ‘truth that comes from above’ as the Bible calls it, a truth which is “pure, peaceable, gentle, full of mercy, without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy” is the spiritual path of inner growth, through prayer, the practice of goodness and compassion.

Truth is not something we possess but something we grow towards. When the BBC – or any corporation for that matter - embraces the spiritual path of yearning for the ‘truth that comes from above’, then we might get nearer to trusting it again. 

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If you enjoy Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?

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