A group of African American congregants sitting in a pew together.
Stock Photo Illustration (Credit: Martine Severin/Canva/https://tinyurl.com/5x5kj5hw)

The Black church has always been a sanctuary of survival and resistance, yet it is at risk of losing its most critical demographic—Black youth and young adults. Not because they lack faith but because they ask questions the church often refuses to answer. This is not a crisis of belief. It is a crisis of containment.

What if we told the truth that some of the best theologians are sitting in our youth ministries, pews, and communities, asking raw, unfiltered questions? They are not looking for pre-packaged doctrine but for a God who moves in their doubts, not just their devotion. This is what I call a “theology of innocence,” a radical reorientation of faith that allows God to move through our questions rather than exist solely as the boundary for them.

Too often, the Black church has operated as if it must have all the answers. We are taught that certainty is a requirement for faith when, in reality, faith has always been a journey, not a destination.

Black Liberation Theology reminds us that Jesus himself was a disruptor, a revolutionary who challenged religious institutions that prioritized control over curiosity. Dr. James Hal Cone taught that Black theology must be rooted in the lived experience of Black people. If that is true, then Black youth—who are grappling with systemic racism, gender violence, transphobia, and economic disparity—are at the very heart of theological discourse.

To ignore their questions is to ignore where God is already speaking.

Yet, the church often reacts to their doubts with suspicion. Why? Because questions disrupt power. Black youth are asking: Why does the church preach about love but remain silent about queerphobia? Why does it condemn protest but celebrate the Civil Rights Movements of the past? Why does it talk about economic justice but exploit free labor from its young people?

These are not irreverent questions. They are theological imperatives. The resurgence of conservative politics, embodied in Trump’s America, poses direct threats to Black youth—through the rollback of civil rights protections, increased policing of Black bodies, and the rise of white Christian nationalism. The church must be an active sanctuary, not just in spirit, but in action.

Process Theology, which emphasizes God’s continual movement and evolution, offers a necessary corrective. It teaches us that God is not a static being who demands conformity but a dynamic presence that calls us into deeper engagement with the world. If we genuinely believe in a living God, why are we so afraid of living questions?

Youth ministry must transition from certainty-based discipleship to a theology of becoming. This means we must create brave spaces where young people can voice their doubts without fear of being labeled “wayward.”

Jesus himself questioned: My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46). If Christ can question, why can’t they?

We must recognize that theology emerges not only from seminaries but also from ciphers, protest lines, and group chats. Kendrick Lamar’s “Alright” is a modern-day psalm. TikTok theologians are shaping the next generation’s understanding of faith. We must listen.

Too often, youth are taught that to question is to betray God. But in Process Theology, faith is fluid. Our evolution does not threaten God. Deconstruction is not destruction—it is reformation.

Black youth are in the streets, fighting for their lives, while the church debates whether activism is compatible with faith. We must reclaim the radical Jesus who flipped tables and resisted empire. God is not just in the pulpit; God is in the protest.

The future of the Black Church depends on whether we let young people lead theological discourse today. The church cannot afford to be a gatekeeper of certainty when young people demand an honest, liberating, and transformative faith.