Ben Christenson was raised strictly Anglican, going to church every Sunday, attending religious school, and attending Christian camps in the summer. But Christenson, 27, of Fairfax, Virginia, has always found herself yearning for a more traditional faith.
“The difficult thing about growing up in my church is that there were a lot of changes in my lifetime,” he told the Post. “I realized there was really no way to stop this change.”
He saw traditions dying out. Robed choirs were replaced by worship bands, lines around the ordination of women were blurred, and longstanding positions on LGBT issues changed.
“All of those things were fundamentally fungible, and that gave me a sense that theological commitments were also kind of fungible,” he said.
So Christenson began exploring other denominations in college and ended up with Orthodox Christianity, perhaps the most traditional form of Christianity. In 2022, at the age of 25, he converted.
“It seems to me that the mainstream sects are bleeding people a lot,” he says. “Even now that we're less tied to social status, if you're serious about becoming a Christian and want some weight to it, you're more conscious of Orthodoxy than you were before.”
Christenson, who works as a fundraiser for a nonprofit organization, attends St. Mary's Orthodox Church in Falls Church, Virginia.
Conversion means having to attend frequent confessions, pray forbidden prayers, and endure extreme fasting, sometimes lasting more than 40 days. weekly Services are also highly ritualized. It is tightly controlled and can last up to two hours.
But he says he takes great comfort in each tradition's 2,000-year history. That hasn't changed. That won't change. ”
“I think there are a lot of Protestants who want a more traditional, grounded, historic faith, and I think that makes sense, especially for young people, because so many other things in our lives Because things are always changing.”
Ben's story is more than just an anecdote. More Protestant churches are displaying Pride flags and Black Lives Matter banners outside their doors, and young people are seeking more traditional forms of worship.
a Orthodox Church Survey It found that dioceses across the country saw a 78% increase in converts in 2022 compared to pre-pandemic levels in 2019. Additionally, while historically there has been an equal number of male and female converts, since 2020 far more men have joined the church.
Father Josiah Trenham has led St. Andrew's Orthodox Church in Riverside, Calif., for nearly 30 years and has noticed a rapid increase in interest. There are no signs of tapering. On the contrary, it is still increasing…it is occurring on a massive scale in countless numbers across the country. ”
Trenham's church has 1,000 active participants, and while his congregation's recent converts are about evenly split between men and women, most Orthodox churches across the country have far more men. He agrees that there is.
“The feminization of non-Orthodox Christianity in America has been accelerating for decades,” Trenham explained.
He points out the following fact The majority of attendees Most Christian churches have women in attendance, and accordingly many services are dominated by emotional singing, swaying, raised hands, and eyes closed in ecstasy.
“Men are much less comfortable. [in those settings]And because they have voted with their feet, they are a minority in this form of worship,” he said. “Our worship style is very traditional and very masculine.”
“Feminized” worship is what drove Elijah Wee Sit, a 17-year-old from Toronto, to explore Orthodoxy.
“Christianity in North America has become very emotional,” Wee Sit, who was raised as an evangelical, told the Post. “I realized that going to an evangelical service was like a rock concert where you raised your hands and got emotional.”
The 12th grade student said he was drawn to Orthodoxy because it is more traditional and masculine. He particularly appreciates the challenge and discipline required to observe fervent prayer and intense fasting.
“What really attracted me to Orthodoxy was how static it was, how solid it was,” he says. “I generally prefer things that are more traditional and have a really ancient feel.”
He is currently taking catechism classes and plans to officially convert in the new year before graduating from high school.
His father, an immigrant from the Philippines, was a little hesitant at first, but agreed to drive him 25 minutes every Sunday to attend St. George's Orthodox Church. It's a target.
“Modern Christianity…has become very watered down,” Wee Sit said. “People go to church on Sunday, sing a few songs, listen to an hour-long sermon, like a TED Talk, and then go home and just go on with their lives.”
Zachary Polk, 36, is a catechist at a church in Trenham, where he helps teach new members about the faith. Currently, there are more than 100 people in the class waiting to be baptized, and there is always a “small group of young men” among them, he said.
In recent years, he sees the Internet as a major driver. “Internet Orthodoxy is a recognized phenomenon…We always have people come to us who say, “I was arguing with people on the Internet and I discovered Orthodoxy and I.'' Ta.”
Polk, a theology professor who converted at age 24, understands why his faith appeals to young people. I think self-improvement can be contextualized into a very masculine and attractive dimension. ”
Jordan Peterson, a psychologist and author with a huge following among young men, told the Post that he's noticed a growing trend among Gen Z boys like Elijah toward Orthodoxy. spoke. Part of the reason, he theorizes, is that tradition makes orthodoxy indisputable.
“Unlike Protestant worship, which relies heavily on the preacher, you can't criticize Orthodox worship. It's like going to a ballet and saying, 'What's going on here?' Well, that's a stupid question,” Peterson told the Post.
“[A ballet is] It is the same as the Orthodox ritual. It's ritualized. It's a dance. And it's not just words. It is a word in architecture, image, and history. And you're a part of it. ”
Bailey Mullins, 26, was raised as a Baptist in South Carolina.
He started having doubts about religion in high school and college. It was then that many mainstream denominations found themselves “incorporated into politics,” split into conservatives and liberals, and preoccupied with cultural debates such as LGBTQ issues.
I attended my first liturgy at the age of 21, inspired by a religion course with a professor who was an Orthodox Christian. I converted two years later.
“I wanted to be in a place where I was stable and that wouldn't change,” he told the Post. “It felt very old-fashioned, and it wasn't like anything I've experienced anywhere else.”
Mullins is a graphic designer and currently lives in Alexandria, Tennessee. He says more young people are turning to Orthodoxy because the religion itself is masculine.
“One could say that Orthodoxy itself is more masculine, especially when compared to the more feminized forms of Christianity that exist today, where the emphasis is on emotional experience, feeling good, and self-promotion. “No,” he says.
“Orthodox is not about us, it's about God, and I think young people today can intuitively understand that. We know when we're being pandered to.”
He attends St. Peter's Orthodox Church, which he says is filled mostly with young converts like him who also want a sense of stability in a chaotic world.
“Everything is changing. The Protestant church is changing. The Catholic church is changing. The culture is changing. The government is changing.
“People want something historic and unchanging. They want something stable and healthy, not something built on sand.”
