Creative Risk-Taking Along Lake Erie
They're fun, creative, talented, a superb team. And their church, Port of Grace, is doing some really neat stuff.
Steve Dennie
May 2000
The Port of Grace church occupies a store-front in downtown Port Colborne, Ontario, a town of about 19,000 people. Standing outside the building, you can see ocean liners from all over the world steaming down the Welland Canal. That, says founding pastor Neal Cudney, helped inspire their name.
"A lot of people aren't ready to hear the name of Christ, but they're all ready to receive grace. As a church, we want to demonstrate grace, and by that have people attracted to us. That's one of our core passions."
"And people feel it," says Liz Cudney. "A couple weeks ago, a lady came into our service--she was mentally unbalanced, and came with her dog--and said, 'There's something here. There's love here.'"
Across the street is Port Colborne's most active bar, The Belmont. They know the bartender, and have even put people up in the hotel. One time the owner said, "Why are you paying this guy's bill? He's a drunk." And they replied, "Because the Lord told us to."
Explains Neal, "If we make mistakes, we want to make them in grace."
Neal and Liz are delightful, fun, and highly-gifted. They play off each other, joking and teasing in a natural way which says, These two were made for each other.
The church planting bug bit them in 1995 during a message by Bishop Ray Seilhamer. Neal had been stationed as pastor of Grace UB in Sherkston, and this was their first annual conference. They prayed about the idea, then presented the idea to their church people, starting with a cell group. Excitement grew.
Attendance had grown to the point that Grace had to do something--build, add a second service, or branch outward. Several proposals were made, and church planting emerged on top.
"We didn't know anything about church planting when we started this," Liz says. "It was just passion."
Down the road about ten miles was Port Colborne. They rented a community center and, for the next year, held a 9:00 service each Sunday --and then rushed back to Sherkston for the regular service there. A congregation of about 35 formed, and a minister was hired. But during the next eight months, attendance plummeted to 8. Not good.
They still had six months on the lease, and the eight remaining people--a family of seven, plus a single man--wanted to keep at it until then. The Sherkston board agreed. And as for pastoral leadership, they realized they had a pastor right under their nose. They asked Liz Cudney, a Bible college graduate, if she would be willing to lead Port of Grace.
"I was scared, terrified," Liz remembers, "but I thought it made sense."
And so, while founding pastor Neal remained involved, Liz became what they jokingly call the "floundering" pastor.
From the start, Liz felt God wanted the church to take a different route. They did prayer walks around the community, they studied the needs of local people, they examined the basic problems in the town. And by September 1998, they began moving with a small core of about 20 people.
"It's been slow but steady growth since then," Neal says.
"A lot of new churches are planted in suburban, growing areas," Neal says, "but we went downtown, because that's where the need was. Our ministry is entirely to the unchurched, to people who wouldn't even consider going to church. We try to plant a seed within them about why church should be important to them."
The church, they discovered, is strategically located. For instance, every Friday morning local people flock to the market, just down the street. Port of Grace will set up a table outside the church and offer coffee to passersby.
"Because it's a storefront church, many people walk in off the street," Liz says. "We minister to people who are very needy in all ways--physically, emotionally, spiritually."
They go into the community to wash windows, pick up garbage, help people move, rake leaves for seniors, take food to the sick. They do one-on-one counseling, and drive people to doctors' appointments. Local businesswomen attend an aerobics class every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. They conduct programs like Moms Who Care. Each spring and fall, with the change of seasons, they open the church on Saturday for a clothing swap (bring a sack of clothes, leave with a new sack).
And the Tuesday night Kids Klub has taken off. When they invited parents one evening, it was standing room only. "We did some really whacky dramas, and they were laughing their heads off," Liz says. "And the worship band played, to give them a taste of our church."
"We have become part of the community," Neal says. "When we attend community functions, Port of Grace is known and respected, because they see us doing things they haven't seen many churches do."
Across the street was the Association for Community Living, a handicapped agency. "We stood out there just praying for that group," Liz recalls. "We invited them to use our facility, because we want to share everything we have. When they needed seminar space, we set it up for them. The next thing you know, they asked us to do a chapel for their handicapped residents." And when the church needed more Sunday school space, Community Living said, "Use our place--free."
Another opportunity that fell into their laps was Canal Days, held the last weekend in July. The event dumps 110,000 people practically on their doorstep. Last year, they opened up their washrooms and served free coffee from morning to midnight.
A group called the International Pirate Band played during Canal Days. Liz noticed a dancer named "Strawberry Shortcake" struggling with the heat. She brought her some ice water and invited her inside. The whole band ended up coming in, along with their instruments. "We hung out together and had pop and watermelon, and got out our guitars and banjos and jammed with them," Liz recalls (Neal is a superb guitar and keyboard player). The grateful Pirates gave a concert during the Sunday service. They showed up in full costume (one with a parrot perched on his shoulder) and did songs like "When the Saints Go Marching In" and "Amazing Grace."
This year, they hope to reserve the main stage on Sunday for a community worship service, and bring in a good Christian band.
They also started the Canal Cafe on Friday nights. It's geared to adults as an alternative to the bar scene. Musicians quietly play music from the 60s, 70s, and 80s while people drink flavored coffees and eat biscotti in a relaxed, non-threatening atmosphere. Port of Grace people invite unchurched friends, and then introduce them to other church people with similar interests. Neal says, "There is no overt presentation of the gospel. It's just an extended hand of friendship, and a chance to get them inside the building so they can ask questions like, 'Is this a church? It doesn't look like one.'"
Liz adds, "Most of our conversions have come through our people leading other people to the Lord. That, to me, is the highlight."
"This is a long-haul kind of thing," Neal says. "These people coming in now, we may not see as part of our congregation for a year."
Under Liz's leadership, attendance increased to 65. Then, this spring, a major transition occurred: Neal resigned as pastor at Sherkston to devote all of his attention to Port of Grace. He and Liz view it as an equal job-share, splitting the various responsibilities. In addition, they both work part-time--Liz with a handicapped ministry called Christian Horizons, and Neal, a trained auctioneer, with some auctioneering and private counseling.
Rather than implement the usual board and commission structure, they recently organized around what they call strategic task groups. Once a quarter, after a Sunday afternoon potluck, they hold a church meeting to help set goals and direction for the next quarter. Anyone can attend, whether they are members or not. During that meeting, assignments are given, and people lead that task for the next quarter. This also helps with leadership training and development. "They are exploring their spiritual gifts," Liz explains.
A side benefit, Neal says, is that people who wouldn't normally be involved in leadership emerge feeling part of the team, because they gave some input--even if nothing more than a simple "Yeah, I like that idea" comment. The dynamics build broad group cohesion.
Which one of you is edgier?
Neal: "We're both fairly high risk-takers."
Liz: "We've been on the precipice many times, and have come back stronger than ever. What have we got to lose?"
Neal: "I'd rather risk and fail than not risk."
Liz: "Our food cupboard went totally whacko once I opened my mouth to the community. We were pouring out money galore in food vouchers. So I tried to limit it to emergencies. We're not a social agency."
Neal: "And we repackaged some things that flopped." Like the Canal Cafe, originally aimed at youth. "The core of the idea was right, but it needed some redirection."
How do you divide up the preaching?
Liz: "They vote for it."
Neal: "We basically cut it down the middle."
Liz: "We have very different styles."
Neal: "I'm biblical." Grin.
Liz: "I'm goofy. How's that? I'll dress up like a garbage man and use the three Rs of recycling. I like drama. We did a drama based on the TV program Antique Road Show, to try to get people laughing. You've got to laugh."
Neal: "Liz is very good with the narrative style. She talks to you like you're in the living room, and has this way of engaging people that draws them in. It's so unassuming and gentle. It makes me look boring."
Liz: "He's very biblical. Very biblical."
Neal: "Our styles complement each other. Another advantage is that we're able to model before these people, who are struggling in their marriages, what a good relationship is like. In our communication, the way we play off each other, and even in how we handle preaching and leadership, we model it before their eyes."
Services are very informal. Some call them "the bluejean church." It's a place where people come as they are and find acceptance.
"We're the most contemporary church in Port Colborne," Neal says. "One of our people said we're the best kept secret in town. We're trying to not be so much of a secret anymore."
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