Church makes community, not religion, focus of center

The church that isn't a church is actually a blue warehouse off West Dravus Street in the Interbay neighborhood south of Ballard. Inside are a coffee shop, comfortable furniture, wireless Internet connections, a small stage for local musicians and big walls for local art.

"Come get a cup of coffee, meet your community, your neighbors," said Leah McCann, 23, who manages the coffee shop. "I think that's the Gospel in action right there."

The Quest Community Development center was birthed by Quest, a multiethnic church that celebrated its first anniversary last month. The church believes it can best demonstrate Christian love simply by being a good neighbor.

To that end, the fledgling congregation is risking $80,000 in seed money to transform an abandoned, asbestos-laced warehouse into a nonprofit, nonreligious community center — and not to proselytize the Christian faith.

The grand opening will be Friday. The hours of the center, at 3223 15th Ave. W., are Monday through Saturday from 7 a.m. to 11 p.m., and Sunday from 7 a.m. to noon.

"We don't want to talk about our faith, we want to be our faith," said Eugene Cho, 32, lead pastor at Quest, who said he's been incubating the idea for the center for 13 years. "We want to embody compassion and justice, be an advocate for people, support local artists and musicians.

"All the physical elements are in place."

Now will it work?

Success will mean catering to the fickle and finicky target population of 18- to 35-year-olds, who Cho believes crave spirituality but disdain the confines of religious institutions. Cho says that population is fleeing churches because nothing there resonates with them.

In fact, several years ago, Cho left behind a respected post as an assistant pastor at one of the largest ethnic congregations in the state, Onnuri Church in Edmonds, to start Quest.

The church has about 150 members, mostly college graduates in their mid-20s. Started with a Korean-American base, it has expanded to include people of Chinese, Vietnamese and Japanese descent. There are more whites than minorities.

The community center's definition of "cool" is soft, used furniture set against spacious, smooth, maroon-and-khaki interiors. The bathrooms are funky blue and gold. Alternative and indie-rock music plays from the speakers.

McCann, who left behind a higher-

paying job as a program coordinator at the University of Washington, said she spent the summer researching which brand of organic, fair-trade coffee to serve. The pastry and juice vendors are local small businesses.

Profits from the coffee shop will go toward sustaining the center's various missions. Roughly 50 percent will go back to the community center's programs: A computer lab, for example, will start teaching senior citizens later this month; the center plans to begin tutoring, mentoring and free legal-advice programs next year; and Cho dreams of connecting some of the homeless and low-income families in the area with employers.

About 25 percent will go directly to the community in the form of artists' funds, musicians' scholarships and meals for homeless people.

The rest will go back to the church. Much of it will be used to pay the monthly lease under an agreement with Interbay Covenant Church next door. Interbay Covenant has owned the 4,500-square-foot warehouse since 1977, and used it for youth ministries before the Seattle Fire Department shut it down in 1999 for safety reasons.

"When Quest approached us (in March 2001), we saw that as a direct answer to prayer," says Ray Bartel, the senior pastor at Interbay Covenant. "We really became excited about some of the dreams Quest had for the facility and entered into a partnership."

Interbay Covenant took out a $285,000 loan, heaped that on top of the funds raised by Quest church members, and gave Quest free rein to permit, design and build the facility. Interbay will continue to own the warehouse.

As much as Quest leaders would like to separate the center from religion, church members will still push the furniture aside on Sunday afternoons and set up folding chairs for their weekly services.

Cho admits he hears some mumbled criticism from his congregation, asking why there isn't a cross up in the coffee shop somewhere.

McCann talks about what might happen if fliers are posted that are contrary to, or perhaps even antagonize, Christianity.

"I'm not out here to convert you," McCann said. "This is a community center. It's going to stay up. To the skeptical, all I can say is, 'Come out and see.' "

Michael Ko: 206-515-5653 or mko@seattletimes.com.