A generation raised in the church is asking uncomfortable questions about money, authority and belief — and the answers may matter more than the asking
By Hadassah Karangu
A conversation is taking place among Gen Z — on social media, in university corridors and around family dinner tables — that older generations are only beginning to hear clearly. It is a conversation about religion, faith, money and the beliefs passed down through families for decades. And it is forcing a question that makes many people deeply uncomfortable: are young people drifting away from God, or are they simply learning to think for themselves?
For a long time, religion was one of the foundations upon which families and communities built their identities. Parents and grandparents grew up in environments where religious teachings were rarely questioned. What the church taught was accepted as truth, and what religious leaders said was treated as wisdom beyond scrutiny. Faith was not merely personal conviction. It was family inheritance, cultural expectation and communal identity woven into one.
Gen Z is approaching that inheritance differently.
Scroll through social media and you will find young people discussing religious trauma, challenging church practices, examining the relationship between faith and money, and questioning interpretations of scripture they absorbed before they were old enough to evaluate them. Some are choosing different ways to practise their faith. Others are stepping back entirely. Many are simply asking questions their parents never felt comfortable raising. This process is commonly described as religious deconstruction — and it does not necessarily mean abandoning God.
Deconstruction, at its core, involves examining inherited beliefs, identifying those that no longer withstand scrutiny and deciding what faith means on a personal level. It is the process of asking why we believe what we believe, rather than accepting something simply because we were told it was right. That question — honest, unsettling and necessary — is where the generational divide often begins.
Nowhere is that divide sharper than in conversations about money and giving. Many parents were raised to understand tithing and offering as essential expressions of faith — not about enriching a pastor, but about obedience to scripture and trust in God. For millions of believers, that practice remains deeply meaningful, and that conviction deserves respect.
But Gen Z is asking a different question. What happens when a person is expected to give financially while struggling to meet their most basic needs? Imagine a young person who cannot afford rent, whose family is going hungry, or whose education depends on money that does not exist. That same person may feel pressured to contribute to a religious institution while watching its leadership live considerably more comfortably. Should such a person feel guilty for paying rent before making a church offering?
This is not an argument against generosity. Many religious leaders serve their communities selflessly, and churches provide essential support to people in genuine need. The question, rather, is whether giving should be encouraged through understanding and conviction or extracted through guilt, fear and promises that leave vulnerable people even more vulnerable. For Gen Z, financial responsibility has become inseparable from this conversation. There is a growing belief that before one can meaningfully support others, a degree of personal stability must come first.
Critics call this selfishness. But there is a meaningful distinction between selfishness and self-awareness. Selfishness is disregarding the needs of others because only your own needs matter. Self-awareness is recognising that your own needs matter too. A generation navigating economic uncertainty, rising living costs and fierce competition for limited opportunities will naturally approach money, work and faith differently from those who came before them. That is not moral failure. It is context.
Technology has accelerated these conversations in ways previous generations could not have anticipated. Unlike their parents, Gen Z has access to a world of information that extends far beyond the teachings of a single church or the beliefs of one family. Social media has created spaces where young people encounter different religious interpretations, hear personal experiences, challenge controversial teachings and explore ideas that were once accepted without debate. Artificial intelligence has added another dimension entirely — young people can now examine scripture, compare theological interpretations and explore historical contexts through tools available on their phones.
But access to information does not automatically produce wisdom. Social media algorithms can reinforce existing opinions. Viral content is not evidence. An AI-generated explanation is not the final word on a complex theological question. That is why questioning must be accompanied by discernment — the very quality that serious faith has always demanded of its adherents.
Perhaps the most misunderstood aspect of religious deconstruction is the assumption that questioning a teaching is equivalent to rejecting God. For some, faith and the institution through which they practise it are inseparable, and challenging the institution feels like challenging God. For others, the distinction is essential: a person can question a pastor, reject a particular interpretation of scripture or demand accountability from religious leadership without losing their faith. A young person may still pray, still believe, still value scripture and still desire a meaningful spiritual life while refusing to accept everything they were taught without examination.
Faith is not weakened by honest questions. It is weakened by the pretence that honest questions do not exist.
At the same time, questioning should not become a reason to dismiss everything that previous generations built and passed on. Parents and grandparents possess experiences, wisdom and convictions that deserve genuine consideration. Many of the values they transmitted — compassion, discipline, forgiveness, service and responsibility — remain vital. The goal is not to reject the older generation simply because it is older. It is to distinguish between values that genuinely nurture people and practices that deserve closer examination.
Gen Z is not trying to destroy what its parents built. It is trying to understand what is worth preserving, what needs reform and what should no longer pass unchallenged from one generation to the next. That is not rebellion. That is reflection. And reflection, however uncomfortable it feels to those watching, has always been where genuine faith begins.
Perhaps the real issue is not that young people have stopped believing. Perhaps it is that they are no longer willing to believe something solely because it has always been presented as truth.
That distinction is everything.