Church on the Square
King Street UB in Chambersburg, Pa., has started a regular
worship service
on the town square.
Steve Dennie
November 2000
It's 10:55 on a sunshiny Sunday morning
in late September. I'm standing in the town square of Chambersburg, Pa.,
the center of town, where two one-way streets intersect. It's a typical smalltown
setup--cars circle around a five-tier memorial fountain in the middle of the square,
dedicated in 1878 in honor of the 5000 Franklin County soldiers who served in
the Civil War.
On one corner of the square is a mini plaza with
shade trees, shrubs, and benches. Several dozen people have gathered here, some
sitting on the courthouse steps, some occupying several rows of chairs set up
on the pavement, others milling around. A sandwich-type sign says, "Church on
the Square. Free Bibles, Free Food. Come Dressed As You Are."
A short walk away, King Street UB church is preparing
for its third service of the morning. The majestic pipe organ plays as hundreds
of people in their Sunday best fill the pews. And some of those people are thinking
about the little service they know is about to begin down by the courthouse.
As I stand on the corner opposite the courthouse,
reading about the fountain, a white-bearded older fellow approaches me. He nods
across the street. "They're having a church service over there. They have
donuts and other things to eat."
I noticed that, I tell him.
"It's King Street church."
Are you part of it? I ask him.
"No, but I might go over." He pauses. "Do you
have any change for a cup of coffee? I had this accident, got a compound fracture,
and now...."
He tells me his story. He's a down-and-outer,
killing time on the town square. The type of person Church on the Square is intended
to reach.
In the plaza in front of the courthouse, cereal
boxes and donut holes lie atop a card table. On the ground is a cooler with juice
bottles. People help themselves. A young woman in bluejean shorts floats around,
engagingly striking up conversations with people. A couple guys in shorts distribute
songsheets.
At 11:00, music begins playing through some big
speakers. Soon, three young adults--two young women, and a young man with a bass
guitar--walk to the front.
"Good morning, everybody," says Diane Prokop,
acoustic guitar around her neck. "We're going to sing some songs." They start
with "Lord I Life Your Name on High," sung a bit slower than I'm used to.
Diane, a recent addition to the COTS team, has a lovely voice.
As they sing, a young lady in black coveralls
arrives pushing her son on a toy four-wheeler. They stop in back of the singers.
She deposits her son on a chair in the front row, then heads straight for the
refreshment table--she's obviously been here before. She then takes a seat
beside her son.
Diane leads them on to other songs. As they sing "As the Deer" meditatively, an ambulance screams through the square, but nobody
pays it much attention.
To the side, along the street, several men sit
on park benches facing the singers. One older man is with two young girls--granddaughters?--who
keep busy with coloring books.
The singing ends at 11:25, and Adam Leeper goes
to the front. "Welcome to Church on the Square," he says to the people scattered
around the area on chairs, the courthouse steps, and the benches. He asks the
greeters to raise their hands, and invites people to talk to them. Then he launches
into a short message. He's a very good speaker. As he begins, several people
walk around depositing a few Bibles on the ground for anyone who might want one.
He uses illustrations well, connecting with people's life experiences, and
it's easy to listen to him.
When Adam finishes, he invites people to hang
around, talk to the greeters, or get more food. The workers begin taking down
the chairs and other equipment and moving it to a vacant storefront across the
street.
Immediately, a young girl in a yellow T-shirt
and black sweatpants approaches Adam. They talk for a while, and soon move over
to the courthouse steps, where they sit down and continue talking. They are still
there as I head back to King Street.
Chambersburg is just a small town of about 20,000
people, similar to numerous other small towns across the midwest which are home
to United Brethren churches. Towns with a town square, and people who will probably
never go to church on their own. So why not take the church to them?
For three years,
King Street held a block party in August. It was a major evangelism event, with
music, hotdogs, and much publicity, and many unchurched people attended.
But it got Gary Porter thinking. Some of the
same people came every year, but they wouldn't see them until the next year.
He got the idea of taking the church to these people. Pat Jones, pastor of King
Street, thought it sounded like a great idea, and he put Gary in touch with Adam
Leeper, who was finishing seminary at Evangelical School of Theology in Myerstown.
As the idea for Church on the Square--or COTS,
for short--was presented, other King Street members expressed interest in reaching
people in the downtown. The Borough of Chambersburg told them it would be okay
to hold a service in the town square.
And in June, Church on the Square began.
"Through the summer we averaged five new people
each week," say Adam, the COTS director. "We have far more people who have come
once or twice and never come back. We've had an interesting mix of people.
Some were just driving by, saw what was happening, parked their car, and worshipped
with us. We've picked up a lot of people who were just on their way to buy
a pack of cigarettes."
They maintain a non-threatening, inviting atmosphere.
Part of it involves dressing down. "We try to blend in, so that how people are
dressed isn't an issue. For people who don't come to church, sometimes
you have to educate them that we're real people.
"We target people who have never attended church,
or who might have been hurt by a church or bear animosity toward the church for
some reason. But who we target and who the Lord brings might not always be in
sync. Our main focus is to share the love of Christ first, that he's our
Savior and Lord."
They've had an effective ministry with the
homeless shelter a couple blocks away, and with group homes and other social service
programs--for abused women, runaways, and others. But this audience can be very
transient, with people coming and going. "Our biggest barrier is that we can't
do a follow-up ministry like you can have with people who will be in the area
for a long time." If people provide an address, they receive the same Welcome
Basket that all King Street visitors receive; and ideally, they can feed people
into other King Street ministries. But that doesn't always happen.
About 50 people
are involved in COTS, with a smaller-but-strong core of highly-involved persons
who have been passionate and like-minded about what they're doing.
"We have about 12 people who are very involved
in hands-on ministry," Adam says. "We call them greeters. They talk to people
and establish relationships. They not only do this on Sunday morning, but follow-up
with people during the week."
Adam praises King Street's support. "The
church body has embraced us. Dozens of people have told me they are praying for
us, and we've felt it." The church freely pitched in an unbudgeted $700 for
a banquet COTS threw in September for people who had been attending. "They provide
what we need as soon as we bring it to their attention."
COTS began as a summer ministry, but its success
demands that they continue it through the winter. When it rained (which only happened
once all summer), they met in a vacant storefront across from the courthouse.
That's where they plan to meet through the winter.
"If nobody shows up for a few weeks, we'll
reevaluate what we do on Sunday morning," Adam explains. During October, with
the onset of fall, they saw attendance decline a bit. "We might change the format,
have food and worship music, do more of a Bible study than a sermon-type presentation,
make it more interactive." Whatever happens, they'll do what is needed to
adapt and continue reaching their target audience.
Since a lot of people are out on Saturday night,
they're considering some kind of outreach--probably focused around food--which
would enable them to strike up conversations with people and build relationships.
That day in
late September after Church on the Square, the sky was gray as I walked back to
the King Street building. I stood in the foyer as the 11:00 service concluded.
The pipe organ played while people exited the sanctuary, people who--at least
some of them--had offered up prayers on behalf of their friends meeting down by
the fountain.
This service was full. So was the earlier service
in the sanctuary. And so was their highly contemporary service, held at 9:45 in
the fellowship hall. This latter service, featuring guitars and drums and so few
of the trappings of traditional services, began just two years ago as a way to
reach people who might not feel comfortable in the church's main services.
It now runs around 300 people, an increase reflected in the church's total
attendance. They're reaching new people.
But there are more to be reached. People who
wouldn't even feel comfortable in this contemporary service. Thus, COTS.
A few weeks later, when I called Adam Leeper,
I apologized for not introducing myself after the service. I told him he was talking
to a girl, and I didn't want to intrude.
Adam remembered it well. He said she was just
16 years old, and came from a group home which helped runaways and other girls
in trouble. Yes, he remembered it vividly.
As morning turned to afternoon, and as the gray
clouds withheld their rain, Adam led her to Christ. On the Chambersburg courthouse
steps, as packed church services dismissed throughout the city, a young girl in
need received the promise of eternal life. Someday in heaven, perhaps Adam can
introduce us to her.
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