Taking the message to them
It's almost dark when George Sawyer packs his black sack with a corn cob pipe, cell phone, a book to read, an appointment calendar and business cards. Then he jumps on his bike and heads out to a coffee shop to meet his friends.
This evening, a new coffeehouse, Rudies on West Seventh Street in St. Paul, shines white with a big photo of Frank Sinatra and the Rat Pack on the back wall. People in their early 20s sit at the bar or tables, talking and playing cards.
Warm greetings and a few high fives welcome Sawyer as he moves through the crowd. These old cheerful friends don't mind that Sawyer has arrived to save their mortal souls. They trust his good sense. He complies with a listening ear. Everybody gets along.
Sawyer, a 32-year old Baptist minister, three years ago embarked on a unique mission: to befriend young people who hang out in coffeehouses and lead them to a deeper life. He does not hard sell his religion. He listens, talks and hopes for a God-inspired moment.
He's had a couple of breakthroughs, one involving a young woman pulled from the practice of witchcraft.
The second happened before Easter this year when one of Sawyer's coffeehouse friends asked to be baptized. On Easter Sunday, Sawyer and the young man waded into the baptismal tank at House of Mercy Church, at Ninth and Wacouta streets in St. Paul, and brought the christened believer into the Kingdom of God.
"Dave came to me with questions about spirituality," Sawyer said. "I think he was looking for an argument. He had questions. We talked. God was preparing him.
"And that's the thing. It's never the numbers. I don't care how many people get baptized. I could have done all kinds of things to get the numbers," Sawyer said.
"I just want to see these people exposed to the gentlest kind of Christianity."
All over the Twin Cities, coffee-shop communities are sprouting. Some reach out to young people from alternative lifestyles, including gothics. These kids, labeled for the theatrical bent in their attire, don white makeup, black clothing and heavy accessories, such as chains and dog collars.
At Rudies, young people come mainly to hear Ska, pre-reggae music with avid followers in the Twin Cities. But the mix can be eclectic, too, moving from hard rock to Irish folk tunes.
Sawyer's friends decorate their bodies with piercing, stretched ear lobes, tattoos and unconventional clothing. Amy Van Kampen sits at the coffee bar at Rudies talking with friends. The 20-year-old lesbian used porcupine quills to stretch holes in her ear lobes to the size of small pencils. Her view of religion and life can only be called progressive.
"Every coffee shop has its own communities. It's like a weird gang," Van Kampen says. "A lot of people are into music, and the best is when George [Sawyer] brings his drums and we have a drum jam. We just sit and drum all night long."
Besides being a Baptist missionary to coffee shops, Sawyer teaches computer skills and works as a musician, playing such instruments as the trombone, the sackbut, the recorder and the double reed krumhorn. He is married to Katherine, his partner in the mission, and they have two children, George and Sara Louise.
Some Christian hardliners might criticize Sawyer for his relaxed approach to mission work. But he believes young people will respond best to a down-home method.
"We can ask young people to come into a church group, but that's a big leap for them," Sawyer said.
"So we have to take the message to them. It's really a missionary perspective -- missionary in the good sense. We have to live with them, be with them. The key is being authentic. They can spot a phony a mile away."
Authenticity seems to be the key in all ministry to people between 18 years and 32 years. Pastor Mark Herringshaw, at North Heights Church in Arden Hills, says young people gathering in coffeehouses is not a new phenomenon.
"I think this is their attempt to rebuild community," Herringshaw said. "They see society fragmenting. So if things erode around them, they will create their own families. Those other people in the coffeehouse, that's their family. They can trust these people and it's all predictable and very tight."
Herringshaw, who helped found Sabbath, a congregation for young people at North Heights, says people should not fear coffee-shop gatherings, because they could become a transition into adulthood.
Sara Hasledalen, 20, a regular coffee-shop patron, says Sawyer personifies the authentic adult and that's why he has managed to build some relationships.
"George doesn't act like most adults," said Hasledalen. "He gives us respect, and he doesn't treat us like children."
But the mission to the coffeehouse crowd doesn't count on an easy formula. The Rev. Michelle Hargrave, a pastor at Centennial United Methodist Church in Roseville, has spent the past three years starting a congregation, Praxis, at Prairie Star Coffee House in St. Paul. The congregation continues to worship at 6:30 p.m. Sundays.
"Maybe there is a formula for saving the church, but I didn't find it," Hargrave acknowledges. "I started out wanting to save the United Methodist Church. Now I just want to be faithful to God."
The Praxis model builds on small groups with Hargrave as discussion facilitator and informal leader.
"There's a real mixture of people," Hargrave said. "We talk about real things. And you can't do that on Sunday morning in a traditional congregation with all those people. But when you spend two years asking the big questions, it does have an effect on a person's life."
Greg Larson, pastor at The Rock, an evangelical church for 20-something singles and college students, says the ultimate search is for a deeper faith.
"We've got five to 20 people coming to worship with the white and black makeup, the gothic makeup. Some come to church wearing dog collars and with a lot of piercings. And some people are just leaning that way," Larson said.
"A lot of these people come from broken homes, and some are disillusioned with the times -- with society. It can seem hopeless at times. They got into this gothic culture, where they're told life sucks, and they listen to hopeless music: Marilyn Manson, Nine Inch Nails, and bands like Korn. All that music says life is hopeless.
"But some people do find answers for their lives," Larson said. "Some become Christians, and whether they drop the full makeup or not, that really doesn't bother me."
Larson is co-pastor of The Rock, which worships at 6 p.m. on Saturday evening at Blake School in Minneapolis.
"What I want is they get answers for their life and they come into a full relationship with Jesus Christ," Larson said. "So if they dress differently or they wear white and black makeup -- that's not the big issue for me."
Clark D. Morphew
8-5-00
