We meet most Sundays at 5 pm, for stories, music, food, Communion, community, and whatever else you show up with. Spring and Summer of 2024, we’re at My Buddy’s (4416 N Clark) with a temporary spring and summer schedule (that’s a PDF for you). But we’re at My Buddy’s almost every wk in any case, and you can subscribe to our google cal at the + sign in the lower right hand of this hideous page.
What to expect/know: You're welcome to come as you are. Fresh from the beach, and still wearing your bathing suit? A-ok! Just rolling up from a Barbie-themed pub crawl? As long as you can still mostly hold it together, great!
Dress is casual (or whatever you're comfortable in). The welcome is wide and real. We’ve got Narcan and Plan B on the welcome table. We sing pop music, chosen for that night’s theme, with drums and keyboard. There’s communion, a sermon, prayer, and one or two people who share a true, personal story they’ve crafted for the service. It’s funny, a little bit loud, a little bit chaotic (although oh-so-carefully planned), and real. We usually meet for about an hour. If you want to know a bit more about what it feels like, here are some reports from people who aren't pastors here:
Ruth, 7th grader (Chicago). "I am glad I went to a service that wasn’t boring. I would have had a much blander experience if I had gone to any other church. Gilead was unique and endearing and I am glad that I went. I would definitely consider returning." Read Ruth's whole reflection here.
Chad the Bird, Chicago's avian op-ed columnist. "'...real butter Christians. It's delicious. They sound delicious. And they were. Lovely room. Um, first of all, they meet at a bar, which I was, like, 'K.' ...So I walk in there and they're like, 'Hey, what do you wanna drink?' And I was, like, 'I dunno. What're you drinking?' And they were like, 'We've got PBR and shots of Malort for $5.' I was like, 'C'monnnn.' So yeah, they just get drunk on happiness — and also beer." Listen to all of Chad's story and his take on bar-church here. (He calls us "stupendous, and super huggy.")
Maria Vorhis, writer/performer, filmmaker, and teaching artist (Chicago). "I was not wondering about an escape route this time because I was listening. I was listening to my friend preach about creativity, how we are all created and therefore creative. How it is our job to live our most creative lives as a way of fulfilling our potential and serving others. After the service I met people. Lovely, inviting, kind people who were curious and smart and inclusive. I hugged some of them. I even held one of their babies. And when I left, I was confused because I had just been to church and I was not religious..." Read the rest of Maria's piece here.