Millennials' views of churches and other religious organizations have dipped, according to a recent study from the Pew Research Center. In 2010, 73 percent of millennials said churches had a positive impact on the U.S. At the end of 2015, the study found that this number lowered to 55 percent. Views among older generations haven't changed much, making millennials the only generation with a drastic decrease.

This number doesn't surprise me. We've lost sight of what our faith is really about. Many millennials go to church just because the rest of their families do and eventually lose interest. The church is also too involved in political and social issues, revealing a much less pleasant side to religious institutions.

A priest at my church once gave a homily in which he said most people "could tell you what the church is against, but not what we're for." It felt good to hear a priest say that, because I was certain there were so many Catholics who felt that way. There are so many issues that have put the Catholic Church's reputation in jeopardy in recent years, whether it's the epidemic of child abuse scandals or archbishops with luxury homes. To make matters worse, the Church's conservative stances on social issues often put it at odds with secular society. All of this distracts us from the purpose of religion. It's not about politics and it's not about looking like a better person than everyone else. I thought the point was to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ — or at least it was supposed to be.

Having attended Catholic school for 10 years, going to church every week and even playing piano for my church, I was surrounded by religion for my whole childhood and spent a significant amount of time involved in my church.

If you do something for a long time without reflecting to consider why you do it, it starts to feel more like a chore and becomes less enjoyable. When it came to the role of religion in my life, I felt as if I was going through the motions along with the rest of my classmates--attending monthly church services with the entire school, receiving First Confession and Holy Communion in second grade, becoming an altar server in fifth grade and completing the requirements for the sacrament of Confirmation in eighth grade. Through all of these, I wanted to make my faith more meaningful to me and channel something deeper that I couldn't find in religion classes.

I suppose I could have taken my own initiative and cracked open the Bible every once in awhile, but like most of my peers, I was a teenager caught up in homework, studying, piano lessons, musical rehearsals and sports practices. Things changed for me by the time I was a freshman in high school though. I joined a youth group at a nearby church after a friend from school told me about it. I made new friends who made being part of a religious organization exciting again. We went on service trips, organized events, put on plays, meditated at the end of every youth group meeting and even sat together at some church services. I had never felt more connected to my faith than I did at that point in my life. I wouldn't have wanted to spend my high school years any other way. It felt great to be serving others, getting closer to God, and spending time with friends who shared my faith.

When a friend from this group came out to me as gay about three years ago, I was both relieved and worried — relieved because in my head, I was thinking, "Wow, there's someone else like me in this group. I thought I was the only gay one this whole time." But I was worried because I knew growing up Catholic and gay is not always easy.

He and I were close for a while, but drifted apart after I started going to college. A few months ago, I was catching up with a mutual friend of ours, and she mentioned his parents had tried conversion therapy on him. I felt devastated. I never reached out to ask if that had actually happened and see if he was OK. Over the past three years, there were so many times when I wanted to reach out and offer my support, but I don't know what stopped me.

Weeks later, I saw his family at church, and he was the only one that wasn't with them. Maybe he had just moved back into school or maybe he didn't go to church anymore. If that's the case, part of me hopes he thinks of the same memories I do that keep me going back most weekends. But another part of me says to let it go. Going to church doesn't make you a better person. Doing God's work and living by Jesus' words are what makes you a better person (well at least if you're Catholic — if you're reading this and you're not Catholic or if you're not religious: just be good person. It's easy).

The opening hymn that day was "All Are Welcome." I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach.

Let us build a house where love can dwell and all can safely live
A place where saints and children tell how hearts learn to forgive
Built of hopes and dreams and visions rock of faith and vault of grace;
Here the love of Christ shall end divisions.
All are welcome, all are welcome, all are welcome in this place.

If we truly lived by the message of this song, maybe more people would be involved in religious organizations. How did so many members of the Catholic Church become so fixated on sin and morality? And when did religion become a series of sacraments that we did in between school and soccer practice, instead of something that brings joy and hope into our lives?

If only a little more than half of Millennials think religious organizations have a positive impact on our country, that sends a strong message.

Millennials aren't as selfish as older generations say we are. We want to make a positive impact on this world and make it a place where all are welcome. If a drive to change the world is a defying characteristic of our generation, then I think we're on the right track. We favor approachability. We look for transparency. We crave personal connections. And most importantly, we love having a sense of purpose and knowing we are doing something good. For the millennials that can't find these things in churches or other religious organizations, I hope you find them somewhere. If institutions are distracting us from the true meaning of our religious beliefs, maybe we just have to look inward and consider other ways to turn faith into action. Religious institutions are temporary, but faith lasts forever.