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Not all church congregations are
declining. During a national conference in Sheffield,
David Bocking meets young Christians who have turned
to the dance and club culture with startling results.
"The
cool generation"
 "Cool."
For anyone who missed the advent of the word the first
and second times round, "cool" has dodgy undertones.
Hairy bearded people with sandals and beatific expressions,
for example.
Surprisingly,
however, despite it's frequent use in the early days
of the current government and now by nursery age schoolchildren
the world over, the word cool still appears to be cool,
albeit in an "insert anywhere you feel appropriate,
doesn't matter if you're a 26 year old PR executive
or 50 year old vicar with attitude" kind of way. So,
apart from cool, cool can mean "Yes", "I agree", "Hmmm,"
"We've got the account" and "Praise the Lord," amongst
many others.
As
hundreds of 18-30 year olds entered the city centre
branch of St Thomas's church over the weekend, the word
"cool" echoed around their purple, orange, bleach blonde
and spiky heads. The Word, it seems, is very cool indeed.
For
those unaware of the changes going on in the modern
day church, it can come as something of a shock to find
a place of worship in a night club (the former Barry
Noble's Roxy, in the case of St Thomas's), and to find
cheery folk with pierced eyebrows and the names of American
punk bands on their backpacks praying and discussing
theology together.
"It's
cool," Nick Allan repeated. It certainly is. St Thomas's
is so cool it's been reviewed in the Face fashion magazine,
and the clubbing department of Manchester University's
newspaper mistakenly sent a couple of reporters to one
of its church meetings at the Roxy under the impression
it was another cutting-edge Sheffield nightclub. "They
were blown away," said Nick.
Amongst
the Christians at the three day Tribal Generation conference
at the Roxy last weekend were members of the Friends
generation from all over the UK and Ireland - and a
Norwegian choir, Nick pointed out, and DJs from Switzerland
and Cheltenham.
The
idea, he explained, "is to find out what's going on,
what God is doing in the undergrounds around the UK,
to network together, to be resourced and go out into
the future and make a difference." Nick Allan, it should
be noted, is both a committed Christian and a professional
marketing officer.
A
tour of the Roxy revealed massed turntables, video screens
and speakers, a prayer area full of installation artworks,
a chill out room with drapes and armchairs, and lots
of baggy trousered people young enough to be in a pre-teen
pop group reading bibles and praying. Not a single acoustic
guitar, kaftan or pair of sandals in sight.
There
were also displays and handouts on environmental issues,
world poverty and the iniquities of global capitalism.
These things matter to the tribal generation. Along
with the Bible and Jesus.
 No
one was remotely embarrassed about telling you this.
Time was when student Christians were seen as a small
special interest group in many universities, ranked
alongside trainspotters and devotees of backgammon by
their fellows in the seething anti racism/sexism/capitalism
organisations. Nowadays, however, there are hordes of
them in Sheffield - and elsewhere - many of whom are
also likely to be leading lights in the fight against
global capitalism. In many cities, the Christian Union
is the biggest University society.
Saturday's
events included stalls promoting fair trade organisations
like Tearfund, a demonstration against the use of sweatshop
workers by multinationals within sight of Sheffield's
new Gap store, and leafleting in aid of Global View
2001, a multi-chariity campaign calling for political
parties to address international issues like world poverty,
environmental protection, gender equality, debt relief
and asylum in the forthcoming election.
And
roving bands of Christian youths toilet cleaning, handing
out free sweets and polishing the windows of taxi drivers
at Sheffield railway station. This, explained Nick,
was "servant evangelism" - acts of kindness, given,
said sweet distributors in Barkers Pool, "with no strings
attached, like the love of Jesus."
The
taxi drivers, many of them Moslems, were clearly very
grateful and appreciative, if not a little bemused.
As they gaily threw water over windscreens and smilingly
swabbed and scraped, the servant evangelists were having
a great time.
On
the surface, the statistics for the nation's churches
don't seem good. Sunday church attendance slipped below
a million for Anglicans last year, and the loss of interest
seems to be mainly from the 18-30 age group targeted
by Tribal Generation. But Nick Allan is positive. "Spirituality
is on the increase, " he said. "We moved from the materialism
of the 1980s to the new spirituality of the late 1990s
and the new century. Young people want to go deep. That's
what they're looking for." In the Roxy, that's what
they get.
The
Nine O'Clock Service, the young people's church which
originated at St Thomas's before moving out on its own,
was fully aware of the needs of its target audience
until its closure following the reign of Chris Brain.
This was no weak willed tambourine bashing, this was
the mustering of the church's litany, spectacle and
music to thrill and transport believers like a candlelit
cathedral in medieval times. With dancing, laser shows
and video.
Tribal
Generation and St Thomas's learnt from the NOS experience
said Nick Allan: there's now strict accountability at
all levels, both to the St Thomas's church leaders and
the wider Church of England. But in many ways, he said,
the inspirational spirit lives on.
"The
dance and club scene is normal life for our age group,
so it needs to fit into church as well. People our age
are not really catered for within the church at the
moment, but we know ways of doing things ourselves.
The church is a community more than a building, and
we aim to make it a place to belong."
The
reputation of the 2,000 strong congregation of St Thomas's
has spread throughout the world., and last weekend's
tribes from Dublin, Scotland, Manchester and beyond
were impressed. You can feel it, they said. God is working
here, they added. Sheffield: the place where Jesus lost
his kaftan and got back his street cred. Cool.
•
Tribal Generation and St Thomas's Church can be contacted
at: www.tribalgeneration.com or Sheffield 2671124
• Pictured: Marjorie Blood
in the prayer room at St Thomas's
Thanks to Sheffield Telegraph and
David Bocking
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