Often when we write stories about churches finding innovative ways to serve the marketplace, we share stories of celebration that end with a successful venture being well-received by the community. But what happens when the most loving thing a congregation can do for their community is to close their venture?
For Reverend Amanda Oicle, that question isn’t a hypothetical; it’s been her reality as she and the Public Church worked to launch Public Coffee in the progressive Jamaica Plains neighborhood of Boston, Massachusetts. This journey has been a tumultuous one, marked by highs and lows, resilience and (ultimately) the decision to step away.
The coffee shop started with a team of four: Rev. Oicle, her assistant pastor, an intern and her husband, BJ, who ran the office side of the business. As their team opened Public Coffee via a soft launch, some of their neighbors began circulating rumors that the coffee shop was a Trojan horse aimed at gaining the neighborhood’s trust while excluding customers who identify as LGBTIQA+.
The rumors started as neighbors explored the coffee shop’s relationship with Public Church and read The Wesleyan Church’s (TWC’s) pastoral letter on human sexuality and objected. They asked Rev. Oicle to consider disassociating with TWC and joining a denomination that affirmed same-sex unions, or else face intense protests against their presence in the neighborhood.
“There was never a time when we considered giving into that demand; but we tried to draw close to those who felt hurt by our presence and help them understand while we held our stance as a church, we were trying to be a place for all people,” said Rev. Oicle.
The neighborhood organizers followed through on their promise to protest, not just once at the grand opening, but in strategic intervals over time. While Public Coffee had a cadre of dedicated supporters (and many who loved the coffee, space and staff), the protest ultimately dissuaded enough business that Public Coffee ceased to be viable.
For Rev. Oicle and BJ, the rejection took a toll on their health, their vision for the space and (at times) their confidence that their attempt at creating a thriving third space was a meaningful venture at all.
“We wanted all people to be seen and known; but they didn’t want to be seen and known by us,” she said. “If we are there for a mission and our neighbors aren’t receptive to that, why are we there?”
After continuing to try to keep the shop going for months, the Oicles eventually decided to close the venture. “Us closing was (partly) about peacemaking,” Rev. Oicle reflected. “Not supporting their choices but acknowledging that what we represented to them was hurting them — and it’s hard to reconcile that.”
Since the closure of the coffee shop, Rev. Oicle began working at a Christian non-profit that walks alongside first-generation college students to help them navigate the challenges of adapting to higher education.
That work — and the space to process the pain and lessons of Public Coffee with trusted colleagues who were not involved in the situation — has been a source of healing and aid in helping her hang on to hope as Rev. Oicle has stepped away. In recent months, it was decided that Public Church would close; Rev. Oicle and BJ have moved to Canada to help with a church restart as of July 2024.
As she and BJ have continued to metabolize the experience over the past months, they’ve learned how tangled up the concepts of obedience and success can become in most Christians’ minds. Sometimes, she reflects, “the win is just that we hear God and obey, even if there’s confusion on why success doesn’t follow that obedience.”
The knot of obedience and success is a hard one to untangle — both for Rev. Oicle and for most of us who hope that God will call us toward things that will be successful. Amid the pain of learning that lesson are opportunities to love God more than we love our own success.
For more stories of those who are holding onto hope, visit wesleyan.org/hanging-on-to-hope.
Rev. Ethan Linder is the pastor of discipleship at College Wesleyan Church in Marion, Indiana, and contributing editor at The Wesleyan Church’s Education and Clergy Development Division.
