The UniteUS movement has been sweeping across college campuses over the past two years, bringing tens of thousands of students into arenas for worship and producing impressive visuals and testimonials. Some of those are from the university at which I work. Pickups pulled into our football stadium, and students were baptized in truck beds until after midnight. Stories supporting the idea that Gen Z has decided to return to the Christian faith seem to surface every week. Looking at the data, however, Gen Z remains a decidedly secular age group. Despite all the vibes and anecdotes of a religious resurgence among young people, Ryan Burge and others have pointed out that, at best, we’re seeing a leveling off of the decline of religiosity. A far cry from a shift that could be called a revival. That’s not to say that nothing has shifted culturally. The way people (and young people especially) talk about religion seems to be changing. Whether it’s TikTok-viral Catholic Mass pizza parties or influencers announcing they’ve decided to follow Jesus, many young people in America are reaching for something greater than what they’ve found on their phones. I myself am a son of the internet who came to faith after years of hedonism and selfish ambition that I learned online. While my generation isn’t yet characterized by widespread revival, I think some key aspects of my story offer insight into how the Spirit may be working among my peers. When Did It End? Some of Gen Z’s most formative years began in the spring of 2020, with the onset of COVID-19. Alongside isolation and technological dependence, the pandemic seemed to produce disillusionment for young people. In a time where truth—about vaccines, police brutality, public health policies—was constantly shifting and changing, questions arose that our cultural gatekeepers weren’t prepared to answer completely or even honestly. This dissatisfaction still lingers in the air of the culture today because, as Paul Ainleitner points out, there was no concrete endpoint to the pandemic. Though schools reopened, our culture lacked closure to this divisive and deadly time. This pandemic hangover is still felt in distrust for institutions, but not always of the cynical stripe. Instead, many insist something steadier and more unmoving is out there, if only we knew how to find it. Before the pandemic, I felt mostly inoculated from the vitriol of politics and the pain of health crises. Once exposed, I wanted answers. Many young people are right where I was—they want the truth, and they suspect real truth isn’t blown about by the winds of cultural or political change. They’re seeking, open to ideas about how they should move through the world. But where do they look? The place that the pandemic taught them to depend on: the internet. Voices Crying Out My search began with political podcasts. I was a daily listener to many conservative-leaning shows that sold an alternative view of the state of the country than that presented by mainstream media. From there, my algorithm on YouTube or Instagram served up videos that focused on cultural issues like the latest movies or celebrity drama. Many young people are right where I was—they want the truth, and they suspect that real truth isn’t blown about by the winds of cultural or political change. Day after day, I returned to this well for solutions, thinking that if I knew all the right information, I wouldn’t be blindsided the way I was with COVID-19. While scrolling, I stumbled on content produced by Christians. At first, I’d watch, distantly interested in their presentations of the gospel. But the Spirit used these channels to soften my heart and set it on fire for Christ. Soon enough, I tangibly felt the shift Paul outlines in 1 Corinthians 1:18, and joined the minority of those my age who’ve decided to follow Jesus. The criticism of “Christian influencers” isn’t hard to understand. Their platforms have produced their share of scandals, cover-ups, and false prophets, and it’d be foolish to celebrate anyone who claims to be a Christian—no matter how radical or hateful the message. The algorithm that serves up these voices makes no distinction between the transcendental and the conspiratorial; it drops them both into our timelines side by side. So yes, discernment is required, and not every self-appointed voice deserves an audience. But set the worst cases aside and consider the impact these voices have when they’re faithful. I’m one of the people they reached. When I turned to the internet looking for answers to life’s biggest questions, it was Christians boldly proclaiming their faith in that digital wilderness who exposed me to the gospel. For a generation that is chronically online—and being marched toward the despair that waits at the end of every road of disillusionment—those faithful voices are a lifeline. Their work matters precisely because that is where this generation already is. Among all the voices competing for the attention of young people, one of them will win. If we want Gen Z to see Jesus as the truth, can we as the church get behind the ones crying out, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand”? Missing Piece I wouldn’t say my decision to follow Christ came solely from what I watched online. That was where it started, but looking back, my Christian life didn’t really take root until I first walked into a church as a young adult. First came weekly meetings with a local college pastor. Then irregular attendance at different churches on Sundays. Once I found a church home, I began attending weekly and serving in different ways. It wasn’t until I took everything I was learning about God and applied it in how I lived that I learned what it meant to take up my cross. This is perhaps the missing piece when we talk about revival. A General Social Survey study found that among those aged 18-to-34 at the time of the survey, weekly church attendance was in decline. Another study which has been recording data since 1973 revealed that the percentage of those possessing “hardly any” confidence in organized religion is at one of its highest points. There may be good evangelism happening online, but churches overall aren’t seeing more Gen-Z congregants. Until we help the people of my generation see the value of embodied, personal faith practice, revival will remain an online rally cry rather than a reality. Hebrews 10:25 sets a clear standard. We’re called to regular meetings with the body of Christ. Neglecting to meet with one another is how we remain siloed and subject to whatever our algorithms decide to feed us next. Without one another, who are we meant to encourage to good works, to care for in their time of need, to love? Maybe a better question: Who are we meant to receive all of these things from? Isolation is the way of the world. Community is the way of the cross. Two Ways When telling people my testimony, I often borrow Ernest Hemingway’s line about bankruptcy. How did I become a Christian? “Two ways. Gradually and then suddenly.” Isolation is the way of the world. Community is the way of the cross. The gradual exploration of ideas and exposure to clear online presentations of orthodoxy led to sudden growth in faith once I started consistently sitting in a pew every Sunday. Young people are thirsting for truth, just as I was. If a Gen-Z revival surges in this country, it’ll be through mature believers acknowledging their desire for truth, and helping them see it can be found most directly through a life lived in community with fellow believers—in the service of a God whom they can trust.