What church could look like

A friend shared a great post today from Jan Edmiston and A Church for Starving Artists.

Reading it, I couldn’t help but think of St. Peter’s Brewery.

As I was working here on this first Monday of the new decade, Sister Sledge was playing in the background. (“We are family . . .”) I had my coffee, my laptop, and the company of three strangers who’d joined me. As is my common experience here, we became temporary colleagues suggesting which salads to try or watching each other’s computers if someone needed to slip off to the restroom.

The two men were working together on some kind of Republican political event. The other woman seemed to be writing in her diary. After the men left, the remaining woman and I kept to our work, occasionally staring into space in search of inspiration. She was looking towards the bar when she said something out loud – sort of to herself – and I replied, “What did you say?” And she said it again: “I wish my church was like this.”

Don’t we all?

It wasn’t the first time I’ve come here alone or with friends and heard those words: “I wish my church was like this.” I interpret this to mean “I wish the church was easy and warm and comfortable and diverse and tangibly hospitable. I wish there was more art and moving around and conversation and work and laughter and sitting and even praying.” I’ve prayed here many times. I’ve had staff meetings here. I’ve celebrated births and deaths here.

Jan goes on to ask, “What makes a church a church?”

Surely it’s not the building? Surely it’s not the decor.

There must be something far deeper.

It’s about the people that gather.

Whether it’s in a brewery, an old city bar, a coffee house, a living room or under a shade tree or in the middle of a parking lot — it’s still about creating a space where people feel welcome, loved and cared for.

So if you could start from scratch, what would your church look like?