Story by Tony Norman ~ Photos by Robin Rombach

Josh Cascone, 23, prays during Bible study at In the Blood Tattoo and Piercing, the South Side headquarters of The End Ministries, an emergent ministry that offers hospitality to those who are disenchanted with mainstream churches.

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n the basement of a South Side tattoo parlor, illuminated by aromatic candles and low-voltage lamps, Holy Week began with fervent prayers for the city.

Members of the Three Nails movement watch part of "The Passion of the Christ" during their Stations of the Cross gathering at the Church of the Good Shepherd in Hazelwood. Each Station of the Cross was presented in a different way by the "cell" groups that make up the wandering Three Nails congregation. Click photo for larger image. For more information Hot Metal Bridge Faith Community can be reached at www.HotMetalBridge.com or 412-481-4010. The End Ministries is housed in the basement of In the Blood Tattoo and Piercing, 2005 E. Carson St., Pittsburgh, PA 15203. E-mail: the_end_rocks@yahoo.com. The Open Door can be reached at www.pghopendoor.org. Three Nails can be reached at www.Threenails.org.

While most Christians in the 'Burgh attended well-lit services at cathedrals and churches, members of three "emerging" churches -- purveyors of alternative religious services -- took turns praying in a recently refurbished but still primitive space below East Carson Street. Hot Metal Bridge Faith Community, The Open Door and Three Nails all were represented in that mission outpost, operated by Hot Metal's like-minded neighbors, The End Ministries.

At the end of their round-the-clock Easter Week prayer vigil, the plan was for these distinct but closely knit faith communities to conduct a joint Holy Saturday service in the basement of Bellefield Presbyterian Church in Oakland.

The past 1,700 years of organized Christianity may have taken many of the faithful out of the grottoes, but it hasn't taken the grotto out of a new generation of believers for whom radical discipleship is more than a marketing gimmick to fill the pews.

In an era of suburban mega churches and declining mainstream churches, there are those who embrace the accouterments discarded by some Christians, especially candles, incense, Celtic crosses, labyrinths, elaborate Communion tables, prayer stations and the interplay of light and shadow.

The folks who gather at the Hot Metal Bridge Faith Community's makeshift sanctuary at the Goodwill Industries Building on the South Side every Sunday embrace a ministry rooted in the wildness of a theatrical troupe intoxicated by the challenge of serving Jesus without embarrassing God.

Above: Sherry Holeczy, 23, worships at the Hot Metal Bridge Faith Community, South Side, Holeczy and her husband, Jesse, are also members of the neighboring The End Ministries, which meets at In the Blood Tattoo and Piercing shop on East Carson Street. Below: Melisa Whitman, 22, right, sits on the basement floor of In the Blood Tattoo and Piercing shop, South Side, during a weekly Bible-study gathering of The End Ministries. Click photo for larger image.

The Open Door provides a multi-sensory worship experience that embraces ancient practices, high technology, amplified music and a spirit of openness and hospitality.

Though it would seem that the first goal of most congregations is owning their own building, Three Nails is content to be a movement of itinerant groups that meet in homes, coffee shops, bars and dilapidated churches on loan for a night.

Welcome to the stylistically varied world of the Emergent Church in Pittsburgh, a fellowship of believers whose Holy Saturday service cut across denominational lines. Pieces of Catholic, Anglican, Orthodox and even Jewish liturgies have been incorporated in all three worship services.

This "emerging" or "missional church," as it sometimes is called, has already begun spilling into the nooks and crannies of Christendom. It is a spirit of revival that embraces ancient liturgies, nonhierarchical practices and the future with equal enthusiasm. Though post-modern in its expression, the emergent church is grounded in ancient biblical practices.

Break from front

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wo weeks before Easter, Jesus, or rather, the actor playing him, stood outside the Goodwill Industries Building smoking a cigarette. John Neiderer, 26, had grown into his role over the weeks, but his confrontation with Judas, played by 23-year-old Doug Raraigh, would be particularly emotional. The usual laughs that accompany Hot Metal's productions would not be a part of that morning's drama.

	Katrina Woodworth prays at the communion table set up for Open Door in Bellefield Presbyterian Church in Oakland. Parishioners leave messages on the table after they have communion. Katrina is the wife of the church's pastor, Brandon James "BJ" Woodworth. Click photo for larger image.

On stage, Judas, now dead, is forced to relive the sequence of events that led to the arrest of Jesus after the Passover supper. Raraigh as Judas repeats his kiss and embrace of Jesus. The interaction between Raraigh and Neiderer is tender though fraught with tension, as both actors are feeling their roles and the weight of predestined tragedy. The audience senses that real tears are close to the surface. It is a magnificent performance, with Jim Walker, 36, Hot Metal's co-pastor, playing Satan taunting Judas after his suicide.

"You're lying in a ditch somewhere covered in your own vomit," Walker shouts at the guilt-stricken Judas. It may be the first time since "Jesus Christ Superstar" that history's most notorious back-stabber comes across as sympathetic. There is even a heartbreaking scene when Judas, mere moments from redemption, pulls back. Some members of the congregation dabbed away tears. For once, you could hear a pin drop in the sanctuary.

"A story can be very powerful," Walker said. "Plato warned the local rulers to kick the storytellers out of town because they were dangerous men. This is because hearing a good story can be a transformational event and can ultimately leave us a changed person. Arguments almost never change a person's mind, but a story can change a person's mind, heart, outlook, world view, behavior and identity. Plato understood this." Hot Metal has met on the third floor of the Goodwill Industries Building at East Carson and 26th Street since the fall of 2002, when less than a dozen people showed up for once-a-month services. Still, Walker and Jeff Eddings, 35, his co-pastor and roommate from their days as theater majors at Point Park College, had a vision for outreach to the unchurched and the burned-out on the South Side.

	Jeff Eddings, above and at left, and fellow pastor Jim Walker, above right, perform in a recent drama that is part of the Hot Metal Faith Community's weekly service. A different drama is performed to convey each week's message at the emergent church. Click photo for larger image.

Walker was commissioned by the United Methodist Church. Eddings, a seminarian and church developer, received his commission from the Presbyterian Church (USA). After two years spent reaching out to the South Side community with culturally astute services, Eddings and Walker began staging their Sunday morning dramas in September before a weekly congregation that now hovers around 140.

"When it comes to approaching people with scripture, we don't want to hit people over the head with the Bible and run. That's a bad approach," Walker said. "What we desire to do is help people identify with the stories from Scripture, so that they can connect their story to God's story."

Recovering alcoholics, working people from the neighborhood, college students, single moms, a punk rock band and the pierced and spiky-haired community of iconoclasts that congregate around The End Ministries' tattoo parlor down the street make the trek to Hot Metal every Sunday. It is a startling and, at times, hauntingly beautiful menagerie of believers of all stripes, persuasions and colors.

"Our goal and mission is to convey God's mercy, love and grace," Melisa Whitman, 22, told her fellow congregants at Hot Metal on the morning she stood to explain The End Ministries' unique outreach to the counterculture. Whitman talked about providing a supportive hangout and opportunities to build relationships with those whom society and the church had cast aside in many cases.

Every week she is accompanied to Hot Metal by dozens of leather-wearing, pierced and tattooed people who wouldn't typically be churchgoers, so it doesn't take too much work to see the wisdom of The End Ministries' approach.

According to Eddings, who introduced Whitman to the congregation that morning, Hot Metal and The End work well together because they have the same mission of proclaiming grace to anyone with a beating heart.

The End Ministries began a year ago, when Whitman; Jesse Holeczy, 25; his wife, Sherry, 23; Josh Cascone, 23; and his wife, Danna, 25 -- all experienced youth pastors -- decided the time was right to launch a Bible study in a tattoo parlor on the South Side.

"We felt through relational evangelism we could reach some of these people," Whitman said.

Today, nearly 40 people meet regularly at In the Blood for its Monday night Bible study.

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hree years ago, a small group of worshippers at Bellefield Presbyterian Church were commissioned to think and pray about adding an evening worship. It was understood that it would have a different flavor from the more contemporary morning service.

Sandra Lee Farra Christman prays during a service at the Hot Metal Bridge Faith Community service. The community holds its services each week on the third floor of the Goodwill Building on the South Side. Click photo for larger image.

Meeting twice a month, the group read books, visited other churches and fell in love with the idea of staging a multisensory and participatory worship experience in the basement of their church at 4001 Fifth Ave., Oakland.

In September 2003, weekly evening worship began. By early 2004, it was clear to the session and to the folks who led The Open Door service that it was attracting a different crowd from those who worshipped at Bellefield Presbyterian's 10:45 a.m. service.

Unlike Hot Metal, which disassembles its worship site after every service so that the room can revert to its Monday-to-Saturday use as a Goodwill dining hall, The Open Door has the freedom to shape its environment to reflect its dynamic identity as a worshiping community.

Abstract paintings of crucifixions hang next to medieval icons while high-tech projectors operated by a light and sound crew illuminate the walls of the basement sanctuary. Projected lyrics to a song and ambient images put everyone in a meditative mood. A full band led by arts worship leader John Creasy alternates between U2-inspired riffs, folk pop and rock 'n' roll.

The Open Door melds various sensibilities from the rich treasure trove of Christianity's past in an attempt to find a "best practices model," in the words of Pastor Brandon James "BJ" Woodworth.

"The emergent church is the coming together of post-conservatives and post-liberals frustrated with a truncated view of the Gospels," Woodworth, 35, said. "Both evangelical conservatives and liberals are learning [about liturgy] from Catholics." So far, 120 worshippers a week agree that the eclecticism of The Open Door has justified the experiment so far.

"I see four branches in this growing missional church movement," Woodworth said. "The Spirit-led portion of the charismatic church, the social justice piece from mainline liberals, the commitment to Scripture and evangelism from conservatives and the meaning of monastic community from Catholics."

The Open Door also shows a strong Jewish influence. Morar (bitter herbs) and charoset (sweet apple and nut mix), staples of the Passover seder meal, were served at a recent service that used Israel's liberation from slavery in Egypt as a tactile sign of Christian hope. A member of the congregation wore a Jewish prayer shawl and read from the Torah. It showcased The Open Door's eagerness to celebrate the Jewish roots of Christianity at every occasion.

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hree Nails, like the other emergent communities, began as an experiment in church worship. Though spiritually accountable to the Episcopal Diocese of Pittsburgh, it is not a movement that emulates the hierarchical structure of its denominational mother. It is composed of house churches or cell groups that occasionally meet in buildings. Ironically for an itinerant church, it prefers worship gatherings in traditional spaces, especially old churches. There are nearly a dozen groups scattered around Pittsburgh with roughly 6-to-10 people in each.

	John Neiderer, left, and John Brown pray together during a service at the Hot Metal Bridge Faith Community on the South Side. Click photo for larger image.

Like Hot Metal and The Open Door, Three Nails began roughly three years ago, independent and unaware of the other ministries. If the movement could be said to have a "father," it is the Rev. Don Cox, 40, a charismatic Episcopal priest who acts as a liaison between Three Nails and the diocese, but not as the community's guru, as some have supposed.

"The best thing about being a priest in Three Nails is that I don't have to do anything," Cox joked one evening before presiding over a service for the group at the Church of the Good Shepherd in Hazelwood.

Cox administered the Eucharist but stepped aside so the worshippers could direct the bulk of the service. Because Three Nails is the smallest of the ministries profiled here, it tends to be the most hands-on. They followed a prayer service by retreating to an upper room, where they performed the Stations of the Cross with a heavy reliance on art, candles and the looped sound of a hammered spike projected from an iPod.

"I've been interested in the emerging church and post-modernism for years," said Holly Rankin Zaher, a cell leader on Observatory Hill who is also a published expert on the movement. "There are some people who view the emerging church as generational, but there is a cultural shift going on. We're in an overlap period," Zaher said.

"We're looking for God and the way He's working in the world today," said Ian Kane, 23, of Edgewood. "This is the way we see God working today. What we're not saying is that a conventional model of church has to go away forever. Cell-based churches are only going to grow for now."

Don Cox, spiritual adviser for the Three Nails group, begins to perform communion for the group as they gather around the altar of Church of the Good Shepherd in Hazelwood. Three Nails doesn't have its own building and moves to different places for its twice-monthly gatherings.