Doing Church A New Way: 
A Story of Growth

McCalla also boasts racial and economic diversity, which Evans says is important to the church. “It’s 60 percent white and 40 percent Black, and there’s a booming Black middle class,” he says. “We think that part of town is what the future of the state and the country are going to look like. It’s also what we hope to look like going forward, because the Episcopal Diocese of Alabama is going to have to become more diverse if we hope to have a vibrant presence as the country becomes more diverse.”

The name, Riverside Church, has several Biblical allusions—the river depicted in the Book of Ezekiel, which flows from the temple and grows deeper and deeper, turning the stagnant waters fresh and giving life to all creatures; the River of Life in Revelation, flanked by trees giving fruit and healing leaves; and the story in Acts in which St. Paul went to Philippi, where he found no synagogue and instead went to the riverside to worship and teach those who gathered there.

Evans sees a significant analogy to the story of Paul at Philippi in the planting of Riverside, which feels both raw and pure in its hope that the Gospel and the fellowship of the congregants are more than enough to ignite a new community of worship.

Its modest beginnings also give Riverside a chance at grassroots, community ownership, an experiment Evans welcomes. “I’ve been having good conversations with people in the area who are interested in the faith and love God, and many of them have never heard of the Episcopal church,” he says. “We want to communicate that culturally this is a congregation open to be shaped by the community and friendly to those who don’t have any kind of exposure to the Episcopal church.” To that end, communion will be held only quarterly or monthly at most for a while, a way to avoid a point of intimidation for those who may not have experienced Eucharist before—a sacrifice Evans and those visiting from other, established Episcopal churches are willing to make if it helps Riverside grow at its own pace.

“As an Episcopalian, I find it wonderfully uncomfortable to worship in a tradition that’s radically different than my own,” Evans says, “because we’re trying to build a service that is newcomer friendly in a radical way.”

Like many members of the Bishop’s Committee, Elliott, the Diocesan Council member who helped identify McCalla as the site for Riverside, has agreed to take a hiatus from his home congregation at The Cathedral Church of the Advent to worship at Riverside and provide support. “If we touch one person,” he says, “that person will touch someone else, and we’re hoping our worshipping community will grow and give people a church home they’ve been looking for.”

Jacquie Caron, who also serves on the Bishop’s Committee, lives in Lake View and says she’s been commuting to St. Matthias in Tuscaloosa for more than 10 years. “When I got the postcard about Riverside, I said, ‘Oh, a church close to home!’ I went to the first meeting, and it all seemed to fit,” she says. “As a cradle Episcopalian, I thought it was really interesting to think of doing church a different way than I’ve grown up with.”

Evans also received a call from Ace McKay, a musician who was attending another church in the diocese. Having grown up in the Baptist Charismatic faith, McKay says he’s been involved in church plants for 25 years—many of the churches meeting in movie theatres, schools, and other nontraditional settings—and wanted to join in. “It just started from my saying, ‘I’m here to offer any wisdoms if you need them, because I’ve been there, done that,’” remembers McKay, who took on the role of Riverside’s music director. He adds that he hopes to be joined by musicians of all stripes who want to take part. “If you play the flute or the ukulele or the harp or the tuba, come on,” he says. “I’m all about playing to the strengths of the people God brings us, and he’ll build what he’s working toward.”

Evans echoes that sentiment, pointing to his belief that when church leadership grows organically, it’s easy for people to find their place and take ownership. “At a start-up church, if you keep coming, you’re a leader,” he says. “We have so much that needs to be done, and all of it has the opportunity to supercharge people’s discipleship.”

Evans points to all those who have come together to support the “God-sized” dream of Riverside. “It’s the diocese planting the church, and they make it possible,” he says. He counts off a number of ways the Episcopal community has joined in. “St. Mary’s on the Highlands in Birmingham and Church of the Nativity in Huntsville have made significant gifts; St. Francis of Assisi in Indian Springs gave part of their sound system; we’re using a borrowed trailer from St. Andrew’s in Montevallo; Ascension in Vestavia Hills bought us a coffee peculator; and people at All Saints in Homewood have donated equipment. We put out a wish list and it’s been completely filled from various people in the diocese.”

He continues: “It’s a beautiful thing, and I’m very much filled with prayers. It feels like there are hundreds of people excited about the project.”

In the days following the first service, Evans reflected on what success looks like for a new church plant. In spite of the much-acknowledged tendency of visitors to hold back before making themselves known, seven filled out cards, and he’d heard from several more interested in learning about Riverside. “These are Christians who for whatever reason do not have a strong, embodied, life-giving membership with a congregation,” he says. “It feels like an affirmation the Lord is pushing us to minister to those folks, which is the dream.”