Jennifer Hart (known as Voo to most of her friends) is back at Scum of the Earth Church for her first time in nearly eight months.
A 27-year-old homeless mother of four boys, she wandered in months ago after going through what she describes as a rough time. "I instantly felt welcomed," she recalled while sitting at a coffee table inside the Tollgate Coffeehouse at 5228 University Way N.E.
A few months before her first visit to Scum, her boys were taken away from her and put into foster care. Tonight, "Scum is my refuge -- a safe place for me to come to," she says.
The self-declared "church for the right brained and left out" is made up of mostly college-age students and homeless people from the University District.
The close-knit group meets on Sunday nights at 6 p.m. for free dinner and service at 7 p.m. The meal is funded by donations from church members and local food organizations. Volunteers prepare the food.
The name sounds odd on purpose; founders envisioned a place where everyone feels welcome, even those who feel they are literally "the scum of the earth."
The building, whose windows are barred, sports an eclectic wall of guitars, stickers, and license plates, and on first glance could easily be mistaken for a pub.
Push the door open, walk in, and you will find John Swanger, the pastor, sitting at a round wooden table chatting with some college students and eating the night's meal; tonight, a ciabatta sandwich.
Swanger notices Hart a few tables away and says in a sincere and curious manner, "Where have you been? We've missed you here."
"I tried to get the guy I was seeing to come, but he didn't believe," she answers. She been away for a while, but what is really important to Swanger is that she is back tonight.
She recently broke up with her boyfriend, she explains, while gingerly eating her meal. "I know this may sound kind of weird, but I think I need to be married to the word for a while," she says. She believes reading and studying the Bible is important for her growth.
After doing inpatient and outpatient rehab, a parenting class, and being monitored for drug use for two months, Hart is counting down the days until she can have her boys back.
Currently, she gets to visit them twice a week.
"I think I'm a different person than I was a year ago," she says. Reaching into a cloth bag she pulls out a journal and shows two photos of her boys, the only photographs she has of them all together. Four blond, blue-eyed boys smile into the camera.
Tonight as the service starts, Hart stays in the back of the room, while most of the crowd drifts into a more intimate area for an acoustic guitar song session.
"It's all so overwhelming--it's a lot to absorb," she says. "I know this is the place to help me get my life back on track, but it's easier said than done."
She hopes to go back to school for forensic psychology and have an apartment for her family to live in.
The church was formed by John and his wife, Raylene, two Denverites who ran a coffee shop and homeless ministry there before feeling called to move to Seattle.
Today, Scum of the Earth Seattle is a sister church to the first Scum of the Earth in Denver. Members of popular Christian ska band Five Iron Frenzy attend the church in Denver and support its growth.
One of Swanger's missions is "to change the way the church views the world, and the way the world views the church."
Swanger has a friend who has a yard sign that reads, "Dear God, please protect me from your Christian followers." He believes that instead of telling people how they're sinning, judgmental Christians should "just shut up and give them Jesus." His eyes are sincere, and his passion fervent, as he explains his beliefs.
At other tables, some people are keeping it light and simply catching up, while others appear to be having more serious conversations. Piercings and tattoos are not an oddity here, and people attend in casual clothes.
Members sit on a couch while others claim spots on the floor. Everyone is close as Alex McCauley, a student at Seattle Pacific University, leads worship tonight. He plays acoustic guitar and the group sings hymns that ebb and flow in a quiet and powerful fashion. His low, raspy voice is raw and real as people close their eyes and sing or simply stare straight ahead into the candlelit room.
Swanger comes up and talks about the importance of "loving your neighbor" no matter how unlovable or untouchable he or she may be. He uses funny stories found in the news for examples of what not to do, and scriptures to explain the seriousness of the message.
Zach McCauley, brother of Alex and associate pastor of the church, says, "My hope is that we will be known more for our love than for our name, and that's a significant challenge."
Kari Stark is a sophomore at Seattle Pacific University who is from Denver and attended the first Scum of the Earth Church. While in Denver she saw Swanger become ordained and heard that they were moving to Seattle. She is one of the original members and has been attending since it was born in a Queen Anne coffee shop nearly three years ago.
Scum, she says, has helped to break down some of the stereotypes she had in high school about homeless people. "I used to think that homeless meant lazy," she said. "But then I started realizing they are people: real people who have just had some hard times."
Stark says that Scum has a family vibe. "People are real and honest, and I haven't got that in any other church community," she said.
The Tollgate Coffee House is also open on Tuesdays and Thursday nights from 7:30-11 p.m. for coffee and hanging out.