The Myth of the Average Millennial

This morning I had a terrifying realization. I’d started the day in my typical fashion, by skimming my Facebook wall and Twitter feed to find an article worth reading—a friend-approved, literary jolt to motivate the hamster in my head to start its daily run. Scrolling through these articles is a bit like walking through a middle school hallway, with all the usual suspects: the nerds correcting everyone’s theological grammar, the goths singing dirges of the church’s imminent demise, the cool kids gossiping about some pastor’s latest faux pas.

I finally clicked on a link to one of those “How to Get the Average Millennial to Come to Church” articles, expecting a satisfying eye roll. Instead, my jaw dropped and I let out a tiny yelp. This average Millennial, the one that everyone’s trying so hard to understand—it’s me!

My heart started pounding as I read through the descriptors. “Average Millennials hold multiple degrees.” Check. “They are technologically savvy.” Check. “Many haven’t been able to find jobs in their fields of expertise.” Check. “They probably have amassed a sizable debt.” Double check.

It was distressing to see myself fitting into the cookie-cutter Millennial mold. Articles such as these don’t paint a pretty picture. According to them, Millennials are entitled couch potatoes, suffering from arrested development. They have an inflated sense of self-worth, and they think they can run a company the first day they walk into a new job.

Of course, Millennials have their retorts. “We aren’t lazy; we were just dealt a bad hand.” “Our parents told us we could be whatever we wanted when we grew up, and we believed them.”

Back and forth it goes.

But as an “average Millennial,” I don’t feel entitled. I’ve worked as a laborer on a construction site and as an administrative assistant (read: receptionist) for an oral surgeon. I know the value of a hard day’s work just to pay the bills. I also don’t blame my current struggles entirely on my upbringing. What success I’ve had, I owe to the generosity of my parents, mentors, and church. How do I rectify these discrepancies?

The answer, of course, is that I’m not the “average Millennial.” Nor is anyone else. I may share a few commonalities with other members of my generation, but I’m also unique.

The truth is, the “average Millennial” is a myth.

Lighthouse or Mirage?

Not every “Millennial” article is authored by a curmudgeon, harrumphing about “kids these days.” I’d like to think this discussion began as a genuine attempt to understand the values of a generation that has confounded expectations. Church leaders, horrified to discover that Millennials were dramatically under-represented in churches, sought ways to bring them back. But how can you attract what you don’t understand?

Authors eagerly jumped to the rescue: “You want to know how to attract Millennials? We’ll tell you what they are like, what they like, and how you can change your church to draw them in and keep them.”

Enter statistical analysis, the proven cure for whatever ails your church. The surveys poured in, the stats were compiled, and the illusive “average Millennial” started coming into focus. But statistical analysis is limited—economic situations, political affiliations, and other figures only go so far.

So like a geneticist filling the sequence gaps of dinosaur DNA with that of frogs, authors inserted personal opinions into their analysis: I know a few Millennials that seem to have problems with authority, so that must be a trait all Millennials share. Philosophers have a name for this type of reasoning. They call it “the fallacy of composition.” An observer assumes that one member of a group is representative of the whole.

So how did this guesswork so easily influence perception of Millennials?

Thank a psychological effect known as “perceptual vigilance.” Have you ever learned a new word, and suddenly, you start seeing it pop up everywhere? That’s perceptual vigilance. The word isn’t actually showing up more frequently; you’ve just become attuned to it. Your brain used to tune it out, but now you recognize it when you hear it, so you think you’re hearing it more often.

Similarly, when you read that all Millennials are entitled, your brain makes a mental note every time an individual under 30 acts that way. Before you know it, you’ll see entitled Millennials everywhere, hogging the roads, cutting in line, and demanding more from church services.

In reality, this “average Millennial” isn’t a lighthouse leading us to better understanding; it’s a mirage, a Siren, drawing us away from the full picture. It only distracts from the truth about Millennials: every single one of us is unique. And who do you want filling the pews of your church, statistical Frankensteins or in-the-flesh human beings?

I don’t mean to criticize statistical analysis. It’s actually very helpful if used in the right way. But in this case, it’s only muddied the waters. If we’re looking at the Average Millennial to comprehensively understand this generation, we’re missing the point of disciple-making. Besides, the Millennial generation is usually defined as anyone born between the early 1980’s and 2000. Do you really expect to find much consistency among a group comprised of 13 to 30-year-olds? That doesn’t even take into account gender, racial, and economic differences.

The very conversation over attracting Millennials is demeaning. Nothing makes you feel loved and respected like being quantified as a percentage point in hopes of filling seats. Most of these articles are written as if the Millennials aren’t in the room—”Not now, little kid; the adults are trying to figure out how to deal with you.” And what about the many Millennials that already attend churches? Don’t lose sight of your current blessings in a culture that demands more, more, more!

No Silver Bullet

So how can your church attract more Millennials without unwarranted stereotyping? You can put down your pen and pad of paper. I’m not going to give you a formula. If you’re looking for a silver bullet, let me save you some time—it doesn’t exist.

Instead, I’d suggest that you stop thinking of Millennials as aliens from another planet. I, for one, am tired of lying on an operating table, being dissected by scientists in white lab coats. I can almost hear the muffled voices from behind surgical masks: “If you look here, you’ll see the gland that makes Millennials prefer service projects over worship programs,” followed by a chorus of, “Fascinating!”

First and foremost, Millennials are people, each one created uniquely in God’s image. And they’re more like you than you realize. People aren’t some kind of codex to solve, if only you knew the password. They’re diverse, dynamic, and fragile—try “cracking the safe” one too many times, and they’ll lock down, maybe forever.

Advertising agencies have picked up on something that churches seem to have missed. Dr. Pepper has a new series of commercials called “/1” promoting individuality. Motorola has ads celebrating the unique customization of rides, pets, bodies, and now phones. Even McDonalds is promoting its Quarter Pounder BLT with shots of people expressing their talents (no matter how odd), encouraging you to try new things and “top yourself.”

Pandering? Of course. But also telling.

I’m not saying individuality should trump community in the church. I’m saying that communities are most beautiful when they celebrate the diversity within. Communities were never meant to be homogeneous. Why are we so intent on generalizing away Millennials’ miscellany?

Perhaps the problem also lies in the “attractional” mission structure. Church leaders are so concerned with how to lure more Millennials to their congregations (and keep them there) that they’ve forgotten their prime mandate: “Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,” (Matt. 28:19). We love to have made disciples; it’s more difficult to go make them.

Can you imagine Jesus gathering his disciples the way we try to gather followers? Jesus sees Peter and Andrew and says, “Come, follow me.” They look at each other, not quite willing to take that first step. So Jesus says, “Will you do it for a … Scooby-snack?”

Obviously, that’s ridiculous. No, the preexistent Son of God descended to us, meeting us in our small, sinful lives and calling us his own. When he assumed humanity, he wasn’t looking for the perfect incentive to draw us to himself; he was giving himself to us.

Many church leaders adopt an “ends-justify-the-means” approach to ministry, seeking the least amount of effort for maximum pay-off, and in some cases people flocked to fill their seats. But not anymore. Many Millennials smell the pandering a mile away. Are church leaders really no better than advertisers, collecting personal data to better advertise to a Millennial consumer?

Stop looking for the perfect mousetrap—”If I turn this crank, the boot will kick the lever, the diver will do a backflip into the pool, the net will fall down on the Millennial ‘mouse,’ and I’ll win!”

Also keep in mind, when you tune your service to attract the Average MIllennial, you may end up losing everyone else. I remember attending a youth group that served up nothing but silly games and contests to see who could eat the grossest food. Many kids ate it up, but my friends and I didn’t. We wanted something more, something deeper. So we stopped going. I found new avenues for church involvement—my parent’s Sunday school class and working in the nursery.

By doggedly hunting the Average Millennial, you will walk right past the Atypical Millennial, the Unique Millennial, and the Exceptional Millennial. And they’ll just go somewhere else.

Greater than Fiction

Do you really want to know what Millennials are like? Stop seeking secondhand information. Go out and meet actual people. Find ways to get involved with a local college. Venture into the community. Have lunch with your 20-something coworkers. I think you’ll find the Millennials you meet to be less perplexing than you assumed—and far more interesting and wonderful than that Average Millennial you’ve read so much about.

Or maybe they’ll be shy and self-conscious, in need of loving encouragement. Or maybe they really will be entitled and egotistical, in which case, they’ll need an example of humility. Expect to be surprised.

I know Millennials that attend traditional, liturgical services, others who are drawn to smaller house church settings, and many who love the vibrant excitement of a megachurch.

Study of the Average Millennial gives no insight into the real Millennials in your community—the living, breathing people just waiting to have God’s blessings poured into their lives. How can you best minister to them? I can’t say. But there’s no better way to find out than by asking them yourself.

Kyle Rohane is a writer living in Amarillo, Texas.