Jayden sat across from me at a local coffeeshop, sipping his milk tea. He had a nose ring, a hoodie with the collar messily cut open, Michelangelo's David hair, and a pair of Crocs. I pointed to the Crocs, stumbled trying to find something to say, and finally asked whether they were comfy.
"Ohh...those...," Jayden casually replied. "I stole them from my younger brother over Christmas. Kind of to say '**** you" to the whole fast fashion materialism child slavery thing, you know?"
He continued, "I like your...umm...loafers? Where'd you get them?"
"J. Crew," I replied.
"Omg, I think my mom shops there...sorry...," with a look of self-satisfaction on his face and hope in his eye that I was slightly offended.
"I'm just ribbing you," he said.
He asked me what music I listened to, and I responded with Classical, Needtobreathe, Ben Rector, and Broadway. "You're such a millennial," as Jayden pretended to choke on his boba.
Jayden was a college student at my alma mater and was part of the same campus ministry I participated in while I was at the university. After a little more small talk, we got around to why we were meeting.
"So, the campus minister said I should, like, I guess, talk to you." Jayden continued. "Like, I dunno why. But then I looked you up. And I saw that you were like a monk or something. And I thought that was cool, I guess."
Jayden seemed both secretly curious and afraid to care.
"I guess what I'm trying to say is that, like, I think the universe is telling me that I'm going to be single, you know. But like, don't I need love or a family and stuff? And like, everything I'm studying is stupid. Like, I could make $100,000 a year, but what's even the point?"
He went on to share about his fears of being alone alongside his doubts about romance and marriage. Jayden shared about his disillusionment with materialism and his desire to do something with his life and make the world better. He yearned for meaningful connection and purposeful work. Jayden was hopeful that God had plans for him to make a difference and thrive in community, but he also struggled with anxiety and despair.
"Well, I don't have solutions for all of those," I said gently. “But here’s where God brought me purpose and belonging without having to compete for love.”
I told him how I genuinely discerned between Christian marriage and vocational singleness, and I eventually felt called to the second: to forgo marriage and kids, not because someone was forcing me to or because I thought it was holier in any way, but because I sensed God’s invitation to single-mindedly serve the poor and the needy. It seemed to me (and the historic Church) that Jesus invited everyone to consider both vocational singleness and Christian marriage, because to do either well, we need a gift of grace from God to faithfully live out our vocation.
In the midst of that I found a lot of meaning in being a godfather, a counselor who meets with those wrestling with faith and sexuality, and an advocate in churches for those on the margins. Along the way, I also helped start an intentional Christian community where I found long-term family with other people committed to celibacy and where I didn't have to be smarter or richer or sexier than the next person in order to find stable companionship.
Apparently the conversation got a little too serious, because Jayden butted in, "Omg, what's it like living in a monastery? Do you, like, have robes and s***?!"
I admitted that I did in fact have a hooded bath robe that I got specifically because it looks like a monk's robe, but disappointed him with the news that others didn't have a robe. We chatted casually for a little longer, sharing about my life in a modern monastery, and then we parted ways.
A few weeks later, he texted me, "Hey, I know you said you discerned, or something like that, and God told you that you were supposed to be single. How did you know?" I sent him a link to a video article about my own discernment journey, why every Christian young adult should open-handedly discern before the Lord, and practical steps for asking God whether He wants to give the gift of vocational singleness or Christian marriage.
"Thanks," he said, without any punctuation, and I didn't hear from Jayden again for a year.
Jayden's story, hopes, and fears aren't uncommon. In many ways, Jayden was giving voice to the anxieties and desires of his generation. A 2020 survey by Cigna found that loneliness is at an all-time high among Americans, and the rates are highest among Gen Z. The study further linked Gen Z loneliness to higher social media use and a lack of in-person, embodied community.
Despite a continued general upward trend in economic conditions and personal freedom, Gen Z perceive the world as more dangerous than previous generations, leading to higher rates of anxiety, depression, and suicidality.
Gallup Research of American Youth found that Zoomers increasingly desired careers that offered both personal fulfillment and societal impact. 76% reported believing "they have a great future ahead of them," particularly through collective change-making on issues of social and environmental justice.
Beneath these statistics is a deep generational yearning. Zoomers yearn for financial security, relational security, and spiritual security in response to generational anxieties and pressures. They want to do work that makes a difference in the lives of people they care about and be part of a community of people making the world better together. The next generation cares less about what material goods their job empowers them to buy and more about whether the way they spend their days leads to a satisfying and mentally-healthy life. Underneath a mask of bitter sarcasm, Zoomers are hoping for relief from their despair. They're generationally allergic to their parents (or church) offering them a curated identity to adopt or cultural script to follow, yet they're burdened by the responsibility to self-invent. They're anxious about who they are, where they'll find family, how to spend their lives, what will give them worthwhile purpose, and whether they'll mess it all up.
As a result, they are experiencing more quarter-life crises than any previous generation. They've barely stepped into adulthood, but they're already overloaded, exhausted, overwhelmed, and questioning the direction of their life. At the same time, they're realistic about their relational future. They find "happily ever after" and "the one" of romance idolatry to be cringe. They are skeptical about whether romantic relationships will last, and instead are increasingly relying on a backstop of deep friendships. They believe in a world where everyone should be loved and where everyone finds the belonging they need. They know they can't have it all, and they're willing to accept something imperfect but real and good.
So what are teens like Jayden to do? Well, just as for Jayden, there isn't one solution. I don't have answers to all of those deep anxieties. But just like Jayden, a meaningful part of the solution could come from a surprising place: discernment.
Some may flinch at talk of “discerning” a call to Christian marriage or vocational singleness. It can seem counterintuitive at a time when both marriage and fertility rates feel fragile. Yet from Christ’s teachings in Matthew 19 to Paul’s teaching in 1 Corinthians 7 to the practice of the early Church, Christians have always believed that God calls most of His people to marriage and a smaller number to singleness for the sake of kingdom work with undivided attention. The aim is not to make singleness the new norm, but to invite every believer to ask which good gift God wants to give them and to receive that gift with open hands.
In other words, our problem is not that too many people are committing to vocational singleness but instead that too few people are committing to anything at all. Teaching discernment between these two biblical vocations will not shrink Christian families. Over time, it will likely lead to more Christians settling into Christian marriage and more Christians settling into vocational singleness, and far fewer lingering in anxious, uncommitted singleness.
Imagine a generation that was equipped to ask the Lord, "God, do you want to give me the gift of vocational singleness or Christian marriage? Which do You know would lead to even more fullness of life for me, specifically?" Imagine Zoomers bringing these possibilities before the Lord with open hands, and in response receiving clarity of calling and peace about their future. Imagine the next generation inviting parents, mentors, and friends to help them in their discernment process, allowing them to let go of self-doubt and second-guessing. They wouldn't have to worry about messing up their future because they trust God to speak through their community.
Imagine Zoomers bringing their emotional resistances and theological doubts about both vocations to the Lord, and in exchange receiving peace from the Lord to step forward and the fullest gift of grace to thrive in vocational singleness or Christian marriage. Imagine a generation dreaming about the kingdom work they could do and settling down into satisfying work that makes a difference and makes their life worthwhile. Imagine them looking around to find others on a similar mission, gathering together to form families and communities bound by their common purpose, and enjoying deep belonging. Imagine a generation saying "yes" to God's call—whether vocational singleness or Christian marriage—to sacrifice so that the poor and needy can get a little closer to the cross and so that we can get this world a little bit closer to the fully redeemed new creation Jesus will one day return to finish.
Discernment answers the fears of the next generation with a simple response: Trust God. He knows what's best for you. Just ask Him, and step forward.
Admittedly, helping them take hold of this would take a lot of support from their churches, parents, campus ministers, and most importantly, from the Holy Spirit. But perhaps discernment is exactly what the next generation needs.
A year later, Jayden texted me again: "Hey, I just wanted to let you know that I've kind of been trying to discern like in that article you shared with me. I still don't know what I'm called to. I don't know where I'll find family. I don't know what my mission is. But I do have this sense that God knows and that He'll show me, sooner or later. I have this sense that if I trust and I'm patient, I'll wake up one day and be living the life I've hoped for. I don't have to have it all to be happy. I just need to step down one of the good paths God imagines for me. And I don't have to figure it all out, because God already has it figured out. That's something, right?"
Yes, Jayden. That’s more than something. That’s the beginning of trust. And trust is where discernment begins.