Picture Credit: Grace and Peace Presbyterian Church
Churches use all sorts of locations to host their worship services. Synagogues and Seventh-day Adventist churches are common sites, as are high school auditoriums and strip mall storefronts.
And now, I can say I’ve worshipped in a nightclub.
For almost 30 years, Grace and Peace Presbyterian Church has been holding worship services in and around downtown Asheville, North Carolina. They’ve worshipped in different facilities over the years, always renting their space. Now, they are meeting on Sunday mornings in the Orange Peel, a concert venue at the corner of Biltmore and Hilliard avenues.
The church is led by Jonathan Inman, a native of the old North State who has called Asheville home since 1998.
The Orange Peel is located in the heart of the city, originally built as a roller skating rink in the 1950s before being converted into a nightclub in the 1960s. After standing vacant for several years, it was relaunched in 2002 as a concert venue. Now, it is considered one of the South’s iconic venues. Rolling Stone once named the Orange Peel one of the top five rock clubs in the country, alongside the likes of the Bowery Ballroom in New York.
Most people come to the Orange Peel to see bands like the Avett Brothers, Smashing Pumpkins, Modest Mouse, and The Black Keys. Concertgoers are completely unaware that the legendary club doubles as a Presbyterian church on Sundays.
As I entered on a Sunday morning in March, the residual aroma of beer still floated through the air, a remnant from the previous evening’s concert. The floor is sticky, and the lights are dim. The stage is clear, and chairs for the congregation are arranged in a semi-circle on the floor level. The bouncers and bartenders are nowhere to be found.
I arrived a few minutes late after the published start time of 10:00 a.m. I take a seat in the back and listen as Inman provides insights on a question from the Catechism concerning the sacraments. According to the church’s website, it is part of their Sunday practice to “rehearse the Westminster Shorter Catechism together as a way of reviewing the basic things God has told us about himself and ourselves in the Bible.” In fact, you can find free copies of the Westminster Larger Catechism at the bar.
Once the catechetical instruction has concluded, attendees are invited to take a break before the service formally begins. As people mixed and mingled, I met Peggy who has been attending Grace and Peace for a quarter of a century. She informs me that the church hasn’t always met in this particular venue, that it has moved around over the years. The goal, she tells me, has always been to foster a connection with the people who call this part of town home.
The church has a distinctively relaxed feel. Inman dresses in shorts, hiking boots, and rolled-up sleeves. He sits on a barstool up front on the floor, level with the main stage behind him. When it comes time to sing, those present are invited to “sing if you’d like, and stand if you want.” That is exactly what happens: about half of the people stand, and the other half remain seated. There is no nursery or childcare. Most of those in attendance appear to be empty nesters, like me. The only children visible are some teenagers with their parents.
Though the feeling may be informal, the elements of the service are as old school as you can get: hymns are sung, the Scripture is read, prayers are offered, and the psalms are recited. Inman reminds attendees about his current sermon series through Deuteronomy. On this Sunday, he’s preaching on the 9th Commandment.
His message starts with a question, “When have you sympathized with someone who is telling a lie?” Congregants take the question seriously and respond aloud. It takes about five minutes for everyone who wants to respond to have their chance.
Inman presses forward in his message, directing our attention to Paul’s words in Ephesians 4:25: “Therefore, having put away falsehood, let each one of you speak the truth with his neighbor, for we are members one of another.” He talks about why Christians are fond of the truth as people who have a new identity in Christ.
As Inman preaches, it is obvious that he assumes there are unbelievers and skeptics in the room. The church seems uniquely positioned to welcome and acknowledge them, but Inman is not using a seeker-sensitive playbook. He’s a straight shooter who seems entirely unconcerned with what you think about him, though he does seem concerned that you know the truth. He speaks plainly about God’s judgment on those who refuse the truth, while inviting worshippers to discover how “the truth will set you free” (John 8:32).
As someone who has been a part of PCA congregations on both coasts, in the Deep South, and in some of America’s largest cities, I can attest that Grace and Peace appears to be one of a kind in terms of aesthetics and personality. And Asheville seems to be a perfect place for this counterintuitive approach.
Though Asheville is situated in the Deep South, it has always been a haven for contrarians. The formation of the PCA traces its roots to Asheville. It was the home of Dr. L. Nelson Bell who refused to walk in step with the rest of his denomination and launched a magazine, the “Southern Presbyterian Journal,” that, according to John Muether, “became a crucial voice for the renewal cause by offering an alternative to its progressive counterpart.”
In some ways, Grace and Peace seems to be a church for contrarian Presbyterians. Zigging where you expect them to zag, refusing to be pigeon-holed by the label Presbyterian. Yet, there is still talk of catechism, singing from the “Trinity Hymnal,” and the weekly celebration of the Lord’s Supper.
Churches tend to take on the personality of their pastor. I suspect that Grace and Peace reflects Inman’s desire for a congregational life marked by simplicity and authenticity that is more in tune with the Bible than the expectations of others, even his fellow presbyters.
As the service concludes, Inman reminds people that there is a congregational meeting soon to commence in the bourbon bar downstairs. If you stick around long enough after church, you can watch Old Crow Medicine Show perform.