I recently attended a conference at a church called Solomon’s Porch in south Minneapolis. It was a different kind of church. The building was familiar enough—old red brick, built probably about 1910, with heavy oak doors and well-worn floors. It is in a neighborhood that has come and gone and is coming back again, with some commercial renewal, not unlike Wausau’s downtown.
But there were differences, too. The conference started with a worship service with the regular congregation. Most of the year, they have two Sunday evening services. There are no morning services. There aren’t any pews anymore, either. Those are long gone. Instead, arranged in concentric circles radiating from the center of the sanctuary—which they call the Great Room—are miscellaneous sofas, easy chairs, rocking chairs and stools. Family areas were defined by play gates that families seemed to have set up. I was clearly one of the oldest people in the room.
People spoke from the center of the room. It was a little hard to tell who the official leaders were, because it was very egalitarian. When the main speakers and some of the other parts finished, the congregation responded by snapping fingers, as if at a beat poetry reading. The service ended with communion, but we didn’t really end as much as move directly into visiting, for quite awhile, right there in the worship space, except for those who were drifting into the adjacent small sitting room to pick up coffee, soft drinks or wine, and continue visiting. Most of the congregation eventually drifted away, and the conference got its Sunday night business started.
Should every church replace its pews with couches and snap fingers after sermons? Not necessarily. An idea that feels natural one place is a gimmick where it doesn’t fit. But this was obviously an authentic Christian community that is growing and reaching people other churches are not reaching, because it is doing things a little differently. It might be something to think about.