Man, that is some kind of operation. They don't have a building. They just now got a pastor, and it seems their fervor is growing by the day. Most pastors would consider themselves lucky to have that kind of response.

I think it's interesting that what seems to be bringing more people of that age group back to organized religion is the invention of new churches. Visionary people who are tired of the status quo and want to push the limits of liturgy, hymnody and preaching are creating these new congregations. They draw like-minded people and talk of starting a church begins. They pick a place to worship - a school, an older church building, a nightclub, homes or wherever they can fit in and worship.

And they pick a style. One church might quietly discuss controversial topics on Sunday mornings. Another might put together a good rhythm and blues band. And a third might reach back into the folksy realm of old-time hymns.

Here in the Northland, some new churches created for younger worshipers have high-powered preaching and a band that sounds so professional you start to feel you're in a nightclub. We've got one church already branching off to start a congregation in another city, and its members think the whole operation - the concept, music and theology - might go national. Would that be a new denomination? No, it's just a new expression.

These churches can surprise us with new possibilities, and the people involved in the churches I've discovered are beginning to wonder if they're riding the wave of the future.

But I wonder what is going to happen 20 years or 40 years from now when this generation is in full charge of the venerable churches in our midst. Will they forget the elderly, the sick and the cantankerous? Will they be so self-absorbed they can't find a decent ministry to accompany their spirited worship?

I think these new congregations will expand in proportion to their service. If they sit in their little conclaves and gaze upon their own splendor, they'll still be stuck on themselves half a century later. But if they forget themselves and reach out to help others unselfishly, they will grow in numbers, expand their vision and discover their destiny in life.

The Christian destiny is giving and service. Some old churches, the ones in the inner city where they can't pay people to attend church, are fighting a heroic battle. They have seen the wave of youth descending upon their world. And they fear if they give up now, the traditions they have protected for decades will be lost forever.

But the truth is some of these newer churches love the old traditions. The baby boomers like the hard beat of most Christian contemporary music that got started in the 1960s. But preachers of this new generation say their parishioners want to know what happened before the 1960s. Give them a glimpse into a 1940s church - let them experience a 1930s liturgy - and you often have a devotee for life, they say.

But along with tradition must come the entire idea of service. The purpose of service is to give yourself away, to disappear so mercy may be revealed. That's when you experience joy - the joy of religious devotion that is unlike any other happiness you may have known.

I know a preacher who has been fighting the battles for decades. This Easter, he stood in the pulpit and he talked about the Kosovars, those brave people facing a ruthless war in the Balkans. He asked for a second offering, a clear, direct infusion of money into that impossible tragedy that stares us in the face every time we look at a newspaper or a television set.

The preacher told those parishioners to picture an amount they could give to the Kosovo tragedy. Then he said, "Now, double it." The next week, he sent off a check for more than $42,000.

That's the kind of sacrifice that ought to take place in every congregation in the nation.

Clark D. Morphew