The Sacred Spaces

Yesterday while sitting at the Ministry of Brewing, enjoying a peach pilsner and listening to the musician sing one of my favorite Jimmy Eat World songs while dogs were playing with each other, it was a familiar comfort to me to be sitting in a church, smiling. 

I remembered one of my former fellow church-goers in Massachusetts. We'll call him Bob. Not his name at all. He had gone on a trip somewhere and was walking behind what he thought was a big huge beautiful church, only to see stacks of kegs and milk crates and a small smoking bench where the staff would sit out for a break. 

He realized the church building was a brewery and he was so offended. SO offended. He went on and on and on about the corruption of this sacred space, the vile treatment of the building, how absolutely horrible it was for the state of Christianity in America that this would be allowed. 

I listened to him state his opinion and told him I absolutely disagreed with him. 

A church brewery for me evokes the Trappist monk traditions of brewing, and hospitality. It takes a place, which no longer serves the purpose of worship and organized religion and turns it into another space that continues fellowship, gathering, togetherness, and joy. It builds community. The community may look a little different than pews and hymnals, and instead there are board games and some guy singing a Stone Temple Pilots song. One of the tables up front was packed with 20 or so people celebrating a guy's birthday. Kids, dogs, mom, dad, the guy, his friends, family. Extended family. When it was time to sing happy birthday to him with his cake, everyone in the joint sang.

Bob told me that he feels this space, this church, is a sacred space. Set apart, the presence of God welcome there. We enter into His gates with thanksgiving when we cross the threshold. 

Yeah, but Bob. If you can't be in the presence of the Lord, under the eye of the Divine, blessed and loved while on the top of a mountain, next to the ocean, in the gutter, and you have to go into a building to be in a sacred space, I think you're doing it wrong. 

You're doing it all wrong. 

A building being "sanctified" is the act of man, the thoughts of humans, this is not an edict of God. It's more important to have 2 or more gathered in His name, anywhere, than it is to be somewhere that has an altar, candles, bells, stained glass. 

Don't get me wrong, I do love me a good church building. But it isn't any more special or blessed than a riverside picnic in the shade throwing sticks for my dog. 

I asked Bob if he thought that it would be better that a beautiful 1800s building be torn down, and some multi-use high rise put in its space, with a first floor grocery and flower shop, and offices for 2 floors, and 9 floors of apartments that are out of people's price ranges where they sit at 40% capacity. A place where individuals and families go into their homes and close the door. 

Or if a space intended for gathering continued to have gathering. A place intended for fellowship continue to have fellowship. 

And also, when you think about all the places in the world mentioned in hymns and scripture, beautiful mountain tops, swelling skies, roiling oceans, why do we all have to go look at those outside and then come inside into a building to revere them and sing about them, and discuss their magnificence? We should just go to them, and praise God from whom all blessings flow. Get out there, in nature and on the dirty sidewalks in the hot summer heat with the homeless. Get out there, look at moose in the woods and struggle to speak with an immigrant mother who has a crying baby, to let her know you're there to help. Leave the building, and act like you're in the presence of God with every step you take.

Bob didn't enjoy my response. 

I remember he pretty much had only small talk with me going forward. And that's okay. I challenged him, perhaps unwelcome from a woman, perhaps because I didn't have a theology degree like he did, maybe he just thought I was a fool and an apostate. But because I was part of the overall congregation shoulder to shoulder with me he had to tolerate me. 

Still, to this day, I'd much rather see a beautiful building retained, restored, loved. And the vibe you get from Ministry of Brewing is one where all are welcome and all are beautiful. Babies and dogs alike. 

One of the things that struck me was they still had the Stations of the Cross up on all the side wall pillars. I was slightly disappointed to see the artwork removed from each of the stations but also incredibly relieved to see that it wasn't somehow mocked with different artwork involving beer along the way or something. I wondered where the art was. If it was just simply painted over, or removed and grey plywood put in its place. They also didn't have any stained glass in the giant windows all along the sides. That was a little odd to me. 

Something to be curious about, I guess. 

Anyway. I don't think my philosophies on things like brewery churches are wacky and out there. I think they are simply what they are. And others still feel that buildings are special spaces. That's fine too. 

There's a church brewery in Pittsburgh I've wanted to go to, maybe I can convince Doug on this trip next week that we should go down. See the different space. Enjoy the fellowship.

Cheers, all. All are welcome here. Pull up a seat, tell me your stories.