From Post-Christian to Post-Secular
Why the cultural waters are shifting and what it means for the future of the Church.
I used to think people like him weren’t interested in God anymore.
He was the store manager of our café on the Drag—just steps from the University of Texas. He was bright, detail-oriented, deeply kind, mid-twenties, gay, Hispanic, raised in the Valley, passionate about social justice, and one of my best friends at work.
One slow afternoon, we struck up a conversation about what he’d been reading. My friend said he was exploring different gods and religious systems. But it wasn’t in a combative way—it was filled with genuine wonder.
“You’re a pastor, right?” he said.
“I’d love to hear about your God.”
We talked for a while—about Christianity, about his questions, about what each tradition teaches. Then he said something I’ll never forget:
“I don’t know if I can get completely on board with everything your God—Jesus—teaches quite yet.
But I just can’t deny that I know maybe four Christians, and they all work here at Medici. They’re without a doubt the most loving, caring, hardworking, and dependable employees I have.
And you’re one of them, Bryson! You’re like a little lightbulb in the store every time you walk in.
So as much as I may not quite agree with your God yet… the followers make it really appealing.”
That moment didn’t feel like a breakthrough — but it did feel like a glimpse.
A glimpse of what’s coming.
From Post-Christian to Post-Secular
In a recent episode of the Rebuilders podcast, Mark Sayers explains something I’ve felt bubbling beneath the surface for years—but didn’t quite have words for until now.
We are not just in a post-Christian culture anymore. We’re entering a post-secular one.
In post-Christian culture, religion was seen as something we’ve evolved beyond. We had science. We had reason. God was fine for the past—but irrelevant now. The church was full of scandals, legalism, hypocrisy. It was the age of deconstruction and cynicism. And it was filled with exit interviews.
And for many millennials like me, that made sense. We grew up with Christianity in the air—but not always in the fruit. We knew its weekly rituals, but not always its power. We saw enough inconsistency to walk away without regret.
But Gen Z is different.
They didn’t grow up in church pews. They don’t carry the same baggage. In fact, many of them never really left faith—because they never inherited it to begin with. And that makes them surprisingly open.
Not gullible — just open.
Sayers notes that the post-secular mindset doesn’t draw a hard line between the natural and supernatural. The secular world loved that division—God was out there, the “real” world was in here. But Gen Z is saying something far more agnostic and humble:
“We actually don’t know what’s real. Maybe there’s more to life than what we can see. Maybe we need wonder again.”
The Quiet Return
The data backs this up.
A UK study by the Bible Society found that weekly church attendance among Gen Z men rose from 4% in 2018 to 21% in 2024—a fivefold increase in six years.
Pew reports that Gen Z is the first generation in decades not to show accelerated religious decline. In fact, affiliation rates are holding steady—and even improving in some regions.
Barna’s research reveals that most Gen Zers still believe in a higher power, even if they’re unsure what to call it. One in four say they prayed in the last week. The spiritual instinct is still alive.
But the most compelling evidence isn’t statistical. In my opinion, it’s relational!
It’s stories like my manager on the Drag. Or the Gen Z coworker who asks about church after seeing your integrity. Or the young woman who comes to faith because her roommate loves her with a kind of selflessness she’s never seen before.
The church isn’t “winning” again. But something is shifting.
What If This Is the Purification?
When cultural Christianity fades, something strange happens.
You lose the crowd.
But you also lose the hypocrisy.
And what’s left… is Jesus.
It reminds me of the early church in Acts. Buildings existed, but not required. Budgets existed, but were defined by generosity. They were a strange, resilient people—rooted in love, marked by holiness, willing to die before they would dominate.
In this new generation, the pressure to perform is gone. The inheritance of cultural religion is gone. And yet, the seed of spiritual hunger remains.
What if the church’s cultural collapse wasn’t the end—but the pruning?
What if Gen Z is being drawn, not to nostalgia, but to authenticity?
A Word to the Church
To the millennials who are still licking their wounds: I see you. I am you. You know the pain of spiritual manipulation. You’ve sat through hollow sermons. You’ve questioned if the whole thing is worth rebuilding.
But I want to ask you gently:
What if your pain prepared you to be the kind of Christian this generation can trust?
What if your story could be a bridge?
To the church leaders still leading faithfully: Please don’t sleep through this moment. The revival might not come through your programming. It might come through the quiet witness of a barista, a neighbor, a friend.
This isn’t the time for louder sermons. It’s the time for brighter lives.
To everyone watching this shift: Lean in to the Spirit. Don’t underestimate what God can do in a post-secular world.
The people we thought weren’t interested in God…
They might just be watching to see if His people are any different.
Not Revival—But Something
This isn’t revival — at least not yet.
It’s quieter than that.
It’s slower.
Less dramatic.
But I can’t shake the feeling that something powerful is happening.
Jesus is not being broadcast in the headlines. He’s being whispered in conversations. He’s being discovered in apartments and cafes. He’s being reintroduced through lives that look like Him again.
So may we be the kind of people whose lives stir curiosity, whose presence invites wonder, and whose love makes Jesus believable again.
May we all be lightbulbs.
So good!!!!