One of the great questions of our day is: What are the key differences between a baby boomer and a baby buster, given the common denominator that they’re both babies?
The church where I work has a pastor whom we’ll call Pastor X (that’s not his real name; his real name is Pastor Y) whose specialty is ministering to baby busters. He’s written a book on the subject: “New Whineskins: How to Reach a Generation of Sniveling, Complaining, Undisciplined Malcontents.” (It’s one of only three books to be published last year that was not written by George Barna.)
I have my own theory. I believe the primary difference between boomers and busters can be summarized in a single word: Flannel.
Flannel was a crucial element in the religious education of boomers. Most of what I know about theology I learned in flannel. We had a special guest lecturer in the Sunday school I attended as a kid–we called her the “Flannel Lady”–who had advanced training in flannel. She held us spellbound simply by presenting the characters of the Old Testament in flannel. (Those were simpler days. They didn’t have any modern educational technology like computers or Ritalin.)
To this day, no matter how hard I exercise my imagination, my entire mental picture of the Old Testament world is in flannel. Samson and Delilah, Joseph and Potiphar’s wife (who actually looked a lot like Delilah, except in a different color robe), and Jonah and the Big Fish (who also looked a lot like Delilah, the Flannel Lady being somewhat nearsighted) all exist in my mind in gentle pastels and natural fibers.
Some writers believe this is why contemporary evangelical theology is so soft on issues like judgment and divine wrath. Flannel does not communicate anger effectively. It is a gentle and placid fabric, and now we’re paying the price. Jonathan Edwards was not raised on flannel.
This may be why so many boomers grew up to need therapy when they got too old for children’s Sunday school. They missed the comfort factor. Therapy is just emotional flannel.
Busters, on the other hand, were largely flannel-deprived, like the monkeys in those Harvard experiments who got the wire coat-hanger mothers. They grew up in a high-tech world (busters, not the Harvard monkeys). They saw Old Testament characters in real life on TV.
As a result, what do busters love to wear? Flannel! You can hardly walk into a Starbucks coffeehouse without getting flanneled to death. Just a coincidence? I don’t think so.
It’s the old story: people will get their flannel. If they can’t get it in church, they’ll get it in the mall, but one way or the other, they’ll get it.
So churches that are ahead of the curve are getting flannel-friendly. Because busters wear so much flannel, you can attach Old Testament characters directly to their clothing without even having to buy a flannelgraph. Some mainline churches are experimenting with buster-sensitive liturgical services, where the clerical celebrants wear flannel robes.
But if you’re really serious about reaching busters, you won’t waste your time reading a lot of books. You’ll go out and hire the Flannel Lady.
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John Ortberg is a teaching pastor at Willow Creek Community Church in South Barrington, Illinois.
1996 Christianity Today/LEADERSHIP Journal
