CARTERSVILLE — Ralph Delgado woke up around 5:30 this morning before going to work as a mechanic. Later he’ll be at his second job operating a forklift.

At least he got to sleep in.

Each Sunday at 5 a.m., Delgado meets with Jody May, connections pastor at Oak Leaf Church, and Gerard Wilmot, a member at Oak Leaf, in the back parking lot of what was formerly the House of Rock, a bar that shut down last year. After a short meeting Wilmot, also a mechanic by trade, and Delgado each drive a U-haul truck containing Oak Leaf’s equipment. They’ll stop two miles down Tennessee Street at the Carmike Cinemas, where in a few hours more than a thousand people will arrive for church.

Volunteers are waiting at the Carmike because there’s a lot to accomplish before the first visitor arrives – Wilmot moving stage sections to the back of the truck, Brad Langston and Joe Ciavarro hauling pieces inside where guys like Brad Nash will put them together, Keelan Thigpin setting up light trusses and running cables, Joel Griffin stacking speakers.

Upstairs Mark Garland hooks up lights and sound from the projection booth while Jeanine Heming makes sure lyrics are going to be projected correctly. Matt Shultz unpacks the information area. Lee Barnes places drapes over movie posters and arranges signs directing newcomers. Rich Nagel lays out children’s areas. Several have been at the theater since 4:30.

A lot to accomplish … to accomplish a lot.

“These guys are amazing,” says Michael Lukaszewski, pastor of Oak Leaf since the church’s start nearly three years ago. “They’re the reason we’re able to do what we do.”

What they do is reach people who don’t do church. Starting with an informational meeting and six families in October 2005, Oak Leaf met at a local dance studio before holding two preview services at Carmike Cinemas.

The Aug. 26, 2006 grand opening drew nearly 300 people. Within a year more than 750 were attending, with many being assimilated into small group Bible study. After ten months meeting in a high school performing arts center, the church moved back to the Carmike in July of last year. The next month Oak Leaf purchased the House of Rock to renovate into a meeting area, office space, and coffee shop.

They have no intention of leaving the cinema, says Lukaszewski, when House of Rock renovations are (hopefully) complete by Easter. They simply can’t. About 1,100 people stream through the cinema’s front doors each Sunday, requiring a crush of volunteers helping operate the four worship services. Although a greatly-appreciated addition, space just wouldn’t be adequate at the new location.

Despite not having a youth minister on staff, Oak Leaf recently drew 130 to Fuel, its midweek student service. With no set location (movies don’t run Sunday morning, but they do the rest of the time) the church has gone with a Catacomb era-ish style of non-advertising for the event. Each Sunday night at 8 p.m. the location for Fuel is posted to www.whereisfuel.com and sent out via text message and Twitter, a social networking website.

The announcement is left up for 24 hours. From there students must rely on word of mouth. Local high schools, the Cartersville Civic Center, and restaurant meeting rooms have served as previous locations.

Approximately 200 volunteers are needed for all of Oak Leaf’s meetings and events during the week, according to Tracy Kase, Lukaszewski’s assistant. And every one is needed.

“I want to be a part of something God’s got His hand on,” states Nash, a Cobb County fireman who’s been on the morning set-up crew since Oak Leaf started. “I want to do my part.”

“It’s about being involved with something

bigger than myself,” adds Heming, who arrived at the theater before six and won’t leave until after 1 p.m. “All of the work is worth it to me.”

Four meetings each lasting an hour with starting times of 9:30, 10:00, 10:45, and 11:15 seem impossible, but Oak Leaf staggers its services between two theaters. In each service 15 minutes of worship are followed by 30 minutes of preaching and 15 minutes of invitation. Halfway through the sermon, worship has started up in the other theater, timed to finish as the pastor wraps up in the first service and begins preaching the second service. Lukaszewski jitterbugs between two theaters, preaching more than two hours (like any pastor he often pushes the time limit) with 4-6 minutes – maybe – in between.

In case you’re interested, the third one is the toughest. “It’s like a marathoner hitting the wall,” he says. “Then I get my second wind and I’m fine.”

Ministry staff – Executive Pastor Anthony Gratto, Family Pastor Jonathan Sutton, and May – help coordinate the services. Kase shadows Lukaszewski, keeping him informed on how much time there is before he’s on in the next service, any changes in the services, etc. When hallway meetings aren’t an option for staff, they peck away text messages to each other.

Call it flexible precision. Whatever it is, it produces results, says Shultz.

“We have such a high energy group of people, this doesn’t feel like work. Often at church you may not see the fruits of your labor. Here you do.

“It’s very tangible,” he adds. “You can feel and touch the difference you’re making. We’re having more people every week.”

Lukaszewski sees the House of Rock renovation as something to draw even more unchurched to hear, and see, the gospel. He admits to a personal desire for its completion.

“I don’t think you can [preach four services] for long,” he laughs. “That’s why I’m praying for this building to get finished soon.”

Eight months ago a survey revealed 60 percent of Oak Leaf attenders having never been or rarely in church. The odds dictate plenty of opportunities for a church body to do the same for people what it’s wanting to do with a run-down, dirty, left-for-anyone-wanting-it bar.

“Redemption can be a dirty process, but it’s a theme for our church,” professes Lukaszewski. “It’s a story we hear in our people all the time. We looked at other [potential meeting] places around town, but kept coming back to the House of Rock. Here is a place that was something used for less than God-honoring purposes, but a church can come in and redeem it.

“If as church we never hear those stories, aren’t willing to be around people who don’t have it all together, we’re not going to accomplish a whole lot.”

 

 

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