Theologically, Anglicanism charts a third way through the landscape of evangelical and catholic options: one that is not at odds with either, but nonetheless aspires, at its best, to be more than what either can offer on its own. It’s a combination of progressive thinking and traditional foundations that Canadian society sorely needs. Yet in this age of church decline and all-too frequent church closures, it’s an offering that seems to be falling flat in our secular world.
One solution may be to reimagine the one thing Anglicanism in Canada still has in abundance: its spaces.
Our parish halls and sanctuaries are radically underutilized. Visit an average Anglican church on a weekday afternoon or evening, and there might be people in the parish office. But there are unlikely to be people just hanging out.
What Canada lacks are spaces in which it’s possible for people to do just that.
Sociologically speaking, these are “third places”: spaces other than the home or the workplace where people can simply exist, socialize and see and be seen by one another. They’re essential for community development, but these days the ones that still exist are often pay-to-play. Bars, for example, are frequently the only place around where people can still gather after hours.
The loss of third places from the Canadian landscape has impacts that are evident everywhere: in the ongoing loneliness epidemic; in the lack of social infrastructure to support people navigating mental health issues and addictions; in the hostility and suspicion many people feel towards the most vulnerable among their neighbours— immigrants, unhoused people and youth.
That’s a problem our church can and should help to fix. After all, an Anglican Church that takes seriously its calling to “let our light shine before others” (Matthew 5:16) needs to keep its churches’ lights on in the evenings, when people are looking for places to be.
There are hurdles to be cleared, of course. Converting our spaces into third places will take time, community buy-in, paid and volunteer labour, and, yes, financial resources. But it’s an investment worth making if we want people to care whether our churches stay open or close down.
If we want people to care about our churches’ presence in their neighbourhoods, we need to give them a reason to. Maybe that’s because we have coffee shops where everyone knows your name. Maybe that’s because our sanctuaries turn into crafting studios on Tuesday evenings. Or maybe that’s because we run the best in-person Dungeons & Dragons campaigns around.
