A Living Room Church

A personal memory about beginnings, community, and what history sometimes forgets.

There are stories that get polished over time, and stories that quietly disappear.

I’ve carried one of those quieter stories for years.

Long before MCC became what it is in Minnesota, there was a small gathering of us — a core group of gay men and friends trying to build spiritual community when such spaces were rare.

The original services were held in our living room on the 3400 block of Pillsbury Avenue South in Minneapolis.

Word spread by mouth. People came. We worshiped weekly. There were picnics, gatherings, friendship, and a real sense that something important was being born. The worship had a Catholic tone. It was heartfelt, searching, and deeply communal.

There were many involved — names I remember, and names I’ve lost — but I remember the spirit clearly.

Then life moved on. Michael and I joined the Air Force, and I was stationed in California. MCC continued to grow. It moved beyond our living room, then into other spaces, eventually finding a home at the Minneapolis Friends Meeting House.

That was also how I first encountered Quakerism — another thread that would shape my life.

I’ll admit: over the years I sometimes felt forgotten, as though those early beginnings had faded from memory. But memory is a tricky thing. Institutions grow, stories simplify, and humble beginnings can disappear into history.

What remains for me is gratitude that I got to witness — and in some small way help hold — the beginning of something that mattered.

And I was deeply happy to see it grow.

Author: Bill Hendricks -- Shadowmason

I’m a Minneapolis-based artist working in watercolor, gouache, oil, drawing, and mixed media. After teaching art and design for many years, I returned to making art fully. These days, I spend my time drawing, painting, experimenting, and paying attention to what shows up. I often work small. My work moves between observation, memory, and imagination. Some pieces lean surreal. Some stay close to what is seen. What interests me is what begins to emerge when I stay with the work long enough. On my blog, you’ll find both my artwork and my reflections. I’ve come to see they are connected. What I learn in the studio often changes how I see my life, my relationships, and my community. In that way, art has become more than making objects — it has become a way of understanding and being in the world. View all posts by Bill Hendricks -- Shadowmason