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Plantain, dumplings, brown rice and patties; from prayer breakfasts through to potluck lunches, the culture in black majority churches is evident and expressed through the food we eat.

However, it doesn’t stop there. What do you do when your culture gets in the way or becomes a stumbling block to your mission and your youth ministry? Up and down the country, churches like the one I grew up in are battling with this very issue.

There are many things my church does exceptionally well: dynamic preaching and exceptional musicianship. Young people who are involved in these pursuits are almost guaranteed an involvement that could lead to them staying when their friends are leaving.

But what about everyone else? I’m sad to say that, with predictable regularity, my home church fails to resonate with the majority of post-modern, British- born young people of any and every ethnicity. There are many reasons for this, so let me give you what I consider to be the top three.

Tradition

The founders of my church were migrants from the West Indies. They brought with them the experience and ways of doing church in which they were forged. ‘We are doing it this way because we have always done it this way’ is the mantra that is lived out, even if it is not verbalised. It means that churches like mine have transported a ‘back home’ approach to church and transposed it here. That does not work for those who have been born and bred here.

Lack of investment

Excellent youth workers are not sought out and hired. Instead, posts are voluntary and the only person who is considered worthy of remuneration is the pastor, with youth leaders expected to work as an offering to God. Even the most committed find it hard to run an effective ministry in their spare time.

The old guard

In some cases, elder statesmen refuse to grant autonomy and responsibility to young people. Instead, they hold on to the reins of power for as long as they have breath. As a result, my home church is slowly but surely heading towards the divine scrap heap.

Unfortunately, I don’t see too much light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. Where there is no vision, the people perish. It feels like a waiting game; children of Israel style. A generation may well have to pass before churches like the one I grew up in will be able to move forward.