Church: A home sweet home for teens

I quoted Rev. Herlina Kabaya, chair of the organizing committee and chair of the Teen Commission of the Christian Church of Central Sulawesi (GKST), during the opening of the GKST National Youth Camp in Tentena, Central Sulawesi, Indonesia. I did not expect those words to stay with me as much as they did.

From 22 – 25 June 2026, around 300 teenagers and mentors gathered in Tentena for four days of worship, fellowship, learning, and conversation. I was invited as one of the speakers, representing the World Council of Churches (WCC), and the plenary session was called “My Church, My Home” (Gerejaku, Rumahku). At first, the title sounded simple. But the more I listened to the teenagers, the more I realized that “home” is not always as simple as it sounds.

Discovering a bigger church

The program was designed to expose teenagers to Christian leaders and professionals from different fields and contexts, allowing them to hear stories and experiences beyond their immediate surroundings. For many teenagers, “church” naturally means the congregation they attend every Sunday. They may also encounter other Christian traditions through friends at school or by visiting other churches. But the church is much bigger than that.

As I prepared to speak about ecumenism, I felt challenged. The WCC represents a much wider context than the local realities of GKST. Not every global issue is immediately relevant to teenagers in Tentena, and I did not want to bring a list of international concerns simply because they are discussed globally. So, I began with a basic question: What does the global ecumenical movement have to do with the everyday lives of these teenagers?

I found some answers in things they already experience: questions about identity and the future, social and economic pressures, trauma, digital life, social media, algorithms and artificial intelligence. These issues may look different from place to place, but they often lead young people to ask remarkably similar questions. That helped me explain ecumenism differently. For teenagers, ecumenism can sound organizational or bureaucratic, something discussed by church leaders in meetings. But sitting together in Tentena, I saw an opportunity to make it more concrete.

Ecumenism is about meeting people who are different from us and learning to listen. It is discovering that our own church tradition is not the whole story. It is realising that Christians from different places can work together for justice, reconciliation, peace, and human dignity. Perhaps ecumenism begins with a simple discovery: “My church is bigger than I thought.”

When global questions become local

The teenagers in Central Sulawesi may live far from Geneva, but they are not disconnected from the wider world. They live between worlds: the physical world of family, school, friends, and church, and the digital world they carry through their phones. They can encounter the same digital trends as teenagers in Jakarta, Tokyo, or New York. They face pressures around appearance, achievement, popularity, and belonging, while navigating questions about identity and the future in a rapidly changing world.

That is why global questions can become local questions. Peace, justice, human dignity, climate change, gender, mental well-being, and digital culture are not simply topics for international meetings. They eventually appear in families, schools, friendships, communities, and online spaces. This is where I began to see the importance of introducing teenagers to the ecumenical movement. If we want young people to participate in ecumenism, they need to encounter it not as an abstract concept, but through people, stories, and relationships. Perhaps one of the most important things we can give young people is not another definition of ecumenism, but an experience of communion across differences. 

What does “home” mean to teenagers?

The question became even more interesting as I spent time with the teenagers outside the formal sessions. One thing that stayed with me was their desire to belong without having to pretend to be someone else. The organizers were not simply interested in making teenagers more obedient church members. They wanted them to return to their congregations feeling that the church was a place where they were known, heard, and loved. That difference matters. A teenager does not necessarily experience church as “home” simply because they attend it every week. Home is where you can ask difficult questions, make mistakes, learn, and still know that you belong. Perhaps most importantly, home is where you are trusted enough to grow. 

One conversation during the camp particularly stayed with me. A teenage girl shared that young people often have opinions and aspirations, but do not always have enough space in the church to express them. Adults and mentors can easily become the people who speak, while teenagers become the people who listen. I found myself thinking about how often we tell teenagers that they are “the future of the church.” But what if they are not only the future? What if they are already part of the church today?

Her comment made me rethink how our churches design programs for teenagers. Instead of only asking, “What programs should we prepare for them?” perhaps we should also ask, “What do they want to tell us, and how can the church support their concerns and gifts?” This question changes how we see teenagers, not simply as assets or the future of the church, but as heirs and bearers of the faith entrusted to the next generation. It also invites us to move from doing ministry for teenagers to doing ministry with them.

Learning from them, too

Being one of the speakers made me aware that I was not simply there to share my experience. I was there to learn. The teenagers were not empty spaces waiting to be filled with information. They came with their own experiences, questions, talents, fears, and hopes. Even the mentors were invited to learn how to accompany teenagers more meaningfully. I came from a global ecumenical organization, but the teenagers in Tentena reminded me that global conversations only become meaningful when they touch real lives.

We can speak about peace, justice, climate change, human dignity, or mental well-being. But eventually, these big words become very personal questions: How do I treat someone who is different from me? How do I use technology without allowing it to define me? How do I know who I am when so many voices are telling me who I should be? The global and the local are not separate worlds they meet in the lives of young people.

“Who am I?”

That last question followed me into the closing worship. I invited the teenagers to reflect on a simple question: “Who am I?” Their answers could easily have been the usual ones: someone’s child, someone’s friend, a student, a singer, a football player, a talented person, or a shy person. But underneath those descriptions is a deeper question: Who am I when all those labels change?

In a world where identity can be shaped by social media, algorithms, achievement, and the opinions of others, perhaps the church has an important role to play: not in giving teenagers another label, but in creating a space where they can discover who they are, whose they are, and what they can become.

A home does not keep you inside

On the final day, I found myself thinking again about the metaphor of home. A good home does not keep us inside forever. It gives us somewhere to return to, people who know us, and the confidence to step outside. I think the same can be true of the church. A church home should not become a prison that keeps teenagers passive, nor a museum that simply preserves what previous generations have done. A living home makes room for new voices. It trusts young people enough to let them participate.

Teenagers can use their gifts in music, art, technology, organizing, speaking, serving, and building friendships across differences. They can become peacemakers in their schools and communities. They can participate in the church’s witness in the world, not someday, but now. This is where my experience in Tentena brought the different pieces together for me. A home gives us belonging. Ecumenism gives us a wider family. And young people bring new possibilities into that family.

Teenagers do not have to be perfect before they can contribute. Their gifts may look different from those of previous generations, but they can still be offered to God. I often remind young people: When God chooses, God equips. When God sends, God provides. Perhaps the challenge for the church is not simply to find ways to make teenagers stay in church. Perhaps the deeper challenge is to build a church that they can genuinely call home and from which they can confidently step into the world.