There are some sights that are inspiring and encouraging for a pastor, but this wasn’t one of them. The big auditorium where the night church met had about 30 people in it. Those 30 people were split up into pods of four or five, surrounded by much larger clumps of empty space.
The only thing that’s more depressing is some weeks later, when the number drops down to 20.
That was us a couple of years ago. Each week, I’d do my best to prepare; each week, I’d preach my best expository sermon; and each week, night church was still in the doldrums. Each week, I’d approach Sunday night with dread.
So we began to talk about the problem. There was no consideration of closing it as too many of us wanted to see it work, but something had to change. Someone suggested that we improve the ambience: why don’t we move it out into the hall where we’ll have to sit closer together? While we’re at it, we could offer a choice of seating—semicircular rows, or chairs around tables at the back. And since the kitchen opened into the hall, why not make tea and coffee available throughout the service?
And so, night church was reborn, with the appropriate name of Café Church. In some ways, not much had changed: we had the same bright contemporary music, same format and same message. What had changed was the atmosphere—an atmosphere that was more conducive to fellowship and teaching within a small group.
During winter, a young chef provided a massive pot of soup every Sunday night. This led to a pizza night once a month—10 large pizzas, sold at $1 per slice. Most nights, someone has brought a food contribution.
We also added a question segment to the meeting where people were invited to submit written theological questions and us pastors attempted to answer one each week.
Before our eyes, Café Church began to blossom, above and beyond all we asked or imagined. It’s become usual for our congregation to number about one hundred on Sunday night. And after years without seeing a child at night church, the children are attending in numbers. The kids help with song leading, and one enterprising family produces creative children’s activities based on the Bible text for the night.
This growth has also encouraged us to run ‘English Hour’ on Sunday afternoon as an outreach to international university students. This ministry to Koreans, Japanese, Chinese, South Americans and anyone else runs into night church, and many stay for the service.
Why couldn’t the Holy Spirit have blessed us similarly in the main auditorium? Not much has changed. But it’s a good reminder that sometimes we have to be alert to what we can change in order to help people hear the gospel, just as we have to be alert to what we can’t change, so that it is the gospel that people are hearing. We never know what barriers might be keeping people from hearing the good news of Jesus, and what barriers we could remove to help those people to hear it.
How do I feel about night church now? The dread I used to feel has turned to joy, and each week, I can’t wait to see who God will draw along and how we can minister to them.
Some people are saying that if God continues to bless us with such growth, we’ll have to go back into the main auditorium. Frankly, I couldn’t think of anything worse. But I would love to start more Café Churches somewhere else.
However, my first Café Church plant has been at our own church at 8 am: The Breakfast Bible Talk. It’s a no-frills meeting—coffee, tea, toast and the morning message, followed by time for questions. My prayer is that this meeting, and many more like it, will remove cultural barriers and pave the way for people to come to hear the good news of Jesus.
Bob Burnett is the pastor of Grace Christian Church (Westminster Presbyterian) in Buderim, Queensland, Australia. He and his wife Wendy own a big, fat avocado-eating Labrador that Wendy loves and Bob tolerates.
