#I loved that one of the fliers was named Bob and that was his call-sign too

[trivialbob]

The last time I went back to a movie theater to watch something again was in 1977. That was for the original Star Wars. Back then, before buying or renting movies was widespread, all sorts of people boasted of seeing Star Wars a dozen or 200 times in theaters. Great movie, sure, but twice was all I needed. The same is true that year for Smokey and the Bandit. I went two times.

Those were the days after a movie ended I felt sad. Such a great experience, and now it was over. Oh dear, what’s left in life. My friends and I dropped our candy wrappers on the sticky concrete floor then slowly ambled to the exit where a parent would pick us up.

True story: I thought the smooth, slanted theater floor had two benefits: It raised you up so you had a better chance to see over the head of the ten-year-old girl sitting in front of you. It also should let wrappers and cups roll easily down to the front row where an employee happily collected them between shows.

It never occurred to me why there were trash bins outside the doors. Or that cups with slanted sides wouldn’t roll straight. A few years later I briefly dated a girl who worked at a theater. She nicely told me the error of my littering ways. “Bob, knock it off!”

Last night I saw Top Gun: Maverick with my dad and my brother. Best movie I’ve seen since 1977. Definitely I was somber when the experience was over.

If you see Top Gun: Maverick, be sure you’ve first seen the 1986 original Top Gun. I liked the strong connections to the first one. In the current movie Tom Cruise even rode the original Kawasaki GPZ900 from the original for a bit.

This is certainly a movie to see a nice theater. When those jet engines lit up, you didn’t get seared by heat, but you felt the noise. It wouldn’t be the same streaming at home via Amazon Prime, unless you have a $50,000 home theater.

In 1977, when someone entered or exited during the show, I remember light from the lobby sometimes hitting the screen, especially during the day. Last night we walked through a maze to get from the door to our seats, which were on carpeted risers and not sticky. Tacko Fall could have been seated in front of me and I wouldn’t have known. I’ve matured since 1977 and put my empty beverage container in the trash bin when the movie was (sadly) over.

Modern theaters are swell. This one had a full bar. Hot food was available, and servers would even bring it to your seat in certain areas. The “no children” section was a nice idea too.

I am definitely going back one more time to see Top Gun: Maverick in a nice theater. Probably on a Tuesday, because it’s only $5 those days.

[starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies]

You’re Safe With Me | B.R.B.

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: When Hangman corners you at the bar, Rooster all but loses his mind.

A/N: I read Rooster fics for like 24 hours straight after I watched top gun and I’m in love with him. Protective Rooster is my dream I mean this gif is ✨chefs kiss✨

Warnings: Hangman being an asshole, verging on attempted sexual assault, fighting (I don’t think Hangman would canonically be this big of a dick, but for the sake of the fic he is)

Word Count: 1.9k

-

Today was one of the most difficult days of training that you’ve had so far, so when you walk into The Hard Deck that night, you are more than ready to let loose. Taking a quick look around the bar you see your squad gathered around the pool table. You catch Phoenix’s eye, waving hi and motioning that you are heading to the bar to get a drink.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Penny chirps when you walk up to the bar, “Can I get you a drink? The squad said it was a hard day of training.”

“The hardest,” you reply, “I’ll just take a beer. Whatever kind you got on hand.”

Penny passes you the bottle, giving a comforting pat to your arm. “Let me know if you need anything.”

You thank her with a soft smile before heading over to your friends, throwing your arm around Phoenix’s shoulder. 

“Tremors!” She uses your call sign and everyone cheers at your arrival. You got the name Tremors in flight school because everyone teased you about how you were such a calm and skilled flier, but the second the mission was over and the adrenaline kicked in, your hands would start shaking like a leaf.

“You giving the boys a run for their money?” you ask Phoenix.

“Oh you know it!” she confirms. Payback, Fanboy, and Coyote all scramble to defend themselves, but they get cut off when Bob pipes up from his seat behind you.

“She’s crushing them,” he states bluntly.

“Thought so.” You bump her shoulder playfully. “Hey, where’s Rooster and Hangman? I thought everyone would be here by now.”

“Well Hangman,” Phoenix starts, pointing your attention to the other side of the bar where Hangman is chatting up some blonde, “is over there trying to get into that poor girl’s pants. And Rooster–”

“Is right here!” You hear his voice chime in from behind you before he throws his arm around your shoulder. “Did you miss me?”

“Oh so bad,” you reply sarcastically, “I was falling apart over here without you.”

“Knew it.” You both chuckle.

-

After an hour or so and a few rounds of pool, beginning with you kicking Rooster’s ass and ending with Phoenix kicking yours, you decide to head back to the bar for another drink. You walk up to the bar and take a seat, watching your friends laugh and mess around. Your eyes stay on Rooster and you smile. He seems so happy and confident here which is a stark contrast to the calculated, precise energy he has when he flies.

“Careful, he might catch you staring,” Penny teases. With your focus on Rooster, you hadn’t even heard her come up next to you. She slides you another beer, giving you a wink and chuckling.

“Oh, shut up,” you mutter, but you can’t help but laugh along with her.

“You should just tell him. I mean you’ve been head over heels for him as long as I’ve known you.”

“I don’t want anything to change between us. Besides, we’re only here for a few more weeks and we all need to focus on the mission. I can’t let anything get in the way of that.”

Penny gives you a sad but understanding smile, walking away to help another customer. You glance back at Rooster again and decide you need some fresh air to clear your head. Sliding off your stool, you head out onto the deck and lean your arms against the railing, taking a deep breath in. The cool breeze and setting sun brings you a moment of peace which is exactly what you need. Your feelings for Rooster aside, it’s been a long couple of weeks and it feels good to finally relax.

“Hey, Tremors.” At first you think Rooster has come out to join you, but when you turn you realize it’s your least favorite pilot.

“Hangman. What did that girl decide she was too good for you and run off?”

“I think she was just intimidated by how good looking I am.”

You scoff. “Oh yeah, I’m sure that was it.”

It gets quiet again. The two of you have never been very close. You keep it civil for the sake of work, but Hangman’s cocky attitude and misogynistic comments have always rubbed you the wrong way. You wouldn’t say you considered him a friend, which was made painfully aware as the two of you stood in silence.

“So, what are you doing out here?” you finally ask him, getting sick of the awkwardness.

“Well, I saw you out here and you seemed so lonely, so I thought I’d provide you some company.” He smirks at you.

“Gee thanks,” you reply with a sarcastic smile, “it’s not like I came out here to be alone or anything.” You turn, leaning your back against the railing.

“I was just worried about you, is all. “He takes a step toward you. “I mean a pretty girl like you, out here all alone. There can be some real creeps at bars you know.”

You take a step to the side, distancing yourself from him again. “Oh trust me, I know.”

He steps forward again, and you continue to slide to the left until you can’t anymore, having hit the corner of the railing. Hangman puts his arms on either side of you, effectively blocking you in. 

Inside, Rooster scans the bar looking for you. You had mentioned that you were heading to get another drink, but it’s been almost 20 minutes and you have yet to rejoin the group. He lets out a frustrated sigh, causing his friends to look over at him.

“What’s up man?” Payback questions

“I just can’t seem to find Tremors.” 

“I’m sure she’s fine, man. Tremors can handle herself.” He pats Rooster on the back.

“I saw her head outside a little while ago,” Phoenix chimes in, “She’s probably just getting some air.”

Rooster looks over at the back deck. Phoenix is right, Y/N is out there leaning against the railing. He exhales in relief, glad you’re okay. Then he notices the way you’re standing, tense and closed off, and the way you’re looking warily at someone off to your right. Rooster cranes his head to see who’s standing next to you. Hangman.

Rooster tenses up. He can’t stand Hangman and he knows you’re not the guy’s biggest fan either. He watches as Hangman steps closer to you and you step away. The rest of the squad has gone back to their game, except for Phoenix who notices Rooster’s change in body language. 

“What’s wrong?” She follows his gaze out to where the two of you are standing on the deck. “Ah, I see. Your archnemesis is out there chatting up your girl.”

“She looks uncomfortable.”

“Tremors is a big girl. She can handle Hangman.”

“I know.” he replies, but he doesn’t take his eyes off you. Hangman has stepped toward you again, and you try to keep moving away but you're stuck at the corner of the deck with his arms on either side of your body.

Rooster is up and out of his seat before he knows it, quickly crossing the room to the door for the back patio. Phoenix chases after him, knowing what’s about to go down. When the squad sees them leaving they follow behind as well.

-

You lean as far away from Hangman as you can, hands pushed against his chest as he crowds into your space. “What are you doing?”

“Oh come on, Tremors,” He turns to whisper in your ear. “I know you want me. All the teasing and banter, besides I’ve seen the way you eye-fuck me when I walk into the room.”

“You’re delusional, Hangman. Get off me or I swear to God I’ll kick your ass.”

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because now he looks pissed. He grabs your wrist squeezing hard and you’re getting ready to break his damn nose, but you don’t get the chance before he’s ripped off of you.

“Get your fucking hands off her!”

Rooster has Hangman pinned up against the wall of the bar and you have never seen him as pissed off as he is right now. His face is bright red with anger, the muscles in his neck taut. Phoenix rushes over to you while the rest of the squad stumbles out onto the deck.

“Hey, are you okay?” Phoenix’s eyes scan over you, stopping at the spot on your wrist where Hangman had grabbed you.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m fine.” You look back over Rooster who has his arm pressed against Hangman’s throat. Coyote and Fanboy try to pull him off, but he seems immovable in his rage.

“Hey, I didn’t do anything wrong,” Hangman wheezed out, “She came onto me, man.” 

Rooster slams him against the wall again. “Like hell she did.”

You jump into action then, afraid Rooster might kill him if you don’t. The guys move aside for you to reach for him. Gently, you place your hand on Rooster’s shoulder.

“Rooster, hey, I’m okay.” He loosens the pressure on Hangman slightly, looking over at you. “I’m okay, really. Just let him go.”

He grabs Hangman by the collar of his shirt, shoving him toward the other guys. “Get him out of here.”

Payback grabs one of Hangman’s arms, corralling him towards the parking lot. You step in front of Rooster and place a hand on his chest, both of you breathing deeply. He starts to say something but is cut off by a yell from Hangman behind you. You turn.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll catch you next time, when Rooster isn’t around to interrupt.”

Rooster tries to charge at him again, but you press against his chest as hard as you can, Fanboy, Bob, and Phoenix grabbing onto his arms to hold him in place. Payback pulls Hangman back around hard and Coyote runs over to help, both working to get him as far away from you as possible.

Rooster breathes harder. “You ever touch her again and I’ll fucking kill you!” He strains against the four of you.

“Rooster!” You keep your palms pressed against his chest. “Rooster, calm down!” He doesn’t acknowledge you. “Bradley!”

He looks down at you when he hears you use his real name, catching your wide, panicked eyes and almost instantly stops fighting. The others release him, but the two of you don’t move from your position. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he tries to calm himself down. Your friends exchange looks and step back inside, sensing that the two of you need a moment alone.

Rooster lets his eyes wash over you looking for any sign that you’re hurt, reaching for your hand when he sees your red wrist. 

“It’s okay,” You reassure him, “Just a little bruise.”

His jaw clenches, but he nods. You step even closer to him, hands still resting on his chest. Rooster reaches for you, hands settling on your waist as he leans his forehead against yours. His eyes flutter shut and he lets out a breath, releasing a little bit of the tension in his body. You allow yourself to relax against him, the reality of what just happened setting in as your hands start to shake. Rooster feels the motion against his chest, reaching up to lay his hands over yours.

“Hey Tremors, I’ve got you.” He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. You burry your head in his neck, breathing him in. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, I promise. You’re safe with me.”

-

Writing masterlist

[ditch-witches]

Eyeliner (Dean-Charles Chapman x reader)

thank you to my dear love @chokopieeater​ for the moodboard. god bless your soul, you are everything to me.

(PART TWO)

requested: yes/no (If y'all want a part 2 lemme know because I wouldn't be opposed... maybe smutty...?)

pairing: band member!Dean-Charles Chapman x reader

warnings: stUpId DiaLogUE

word count: 1,943

a/n: This brought me back to my Queen fandom days :)))) (also we can all agree that the boy isn't coordinated enough to play guitar, right?)

You slouched against the bar counter, stirring your drink and wondering why the hell you had gotten talked into attending this shindig as your friend circulated around the room, greeting people she knew from class and so on.

"Come on! It'll be fun!" Your friend smiled across the booth from you, her eyes dancing with excitement when she found out a local band was playing and she could get the two of you in.

"Yeah, what are they called again?" You asked, rather uninterested and debated making up some homework assignments to use as an excuse. She rifled through her bag rather violently, seemingly looking for the event flier one of the band members had probably slipped her in class. She was an undeclared groupie of the boys, swearing that one day they would blow up and you'd be sorry for not following them from the beginning.

"Something that starts with Revolting, I think..." she huffed, continuing to look for the crumpled green paper.

"I don't know why you're so obsessed. They're just trying to be Blink-182-"

Her head shot up, glaring at you. "Don't belittle their music. They are artists."

So there you were, head already clouded with the cigarette smoke hanging in the air and the residual smell of frat boy sweat. You sighed, thinking of the ungodly hour you had to be up the next morning and how much you would have rather been bundled up in bed watching Happy Days reruns right about now. The bartender gave you a small smile, topping off the drink you had barely touched and you gave him a nod in acceptance. You didn't look up when you heard the noise of amps being plugged in and guitars plucked, instead downing what you had in your hand and feeling your headache worsen by the minute. Someone came over the mic, introducing the band. The cockney accent sounded vaguely familiar to you, causing you to look up and lock eyes with the lead singer. You weren't sure where you met him before, maybe you just knew him from your friend's obsession.

You stood, walking over to lean against one of the beams holding up the ratty ceiling and crossing your arms as the singer smiled at you slightly, his pick tucked between his smile. How he so focused on you in a room full of crowded people puzzled you. Maybe he wasn't actually looking at you, the lights had to have been too bright. You watched his fingers swiftly moving from chord to chord, head bobbing slightly with an easy smile on his face. He was definitely in his element and you couldn't help but feel a sense of attraction to his confidence. You moved to another section of the crowd, performing an experiment of your own. His bright eyes were brought away from his instrument as he began to sing, his sight gliding over the audience before finally settling on you again, his smile brightening. You slyly looked over your shoulder to see if he could possibly be looking at another girl around you, fighting a small blush to creep onto your face as it almost felt like he was singing the unrecognizable garage band song to you.

Their set consisted of flirty glances and smirks sandwiched between the bass player fumbling around and adding solos that seemed like none of the band members were expecting, yet took in stride. It didn't seem like any of them were actually serious about playing. You caught sight of your friend, screaming her head off and jumping up and down with a few other girls that were probably just as into the band as she was. At one point one of the girls took the cigarette the lead singer was sporting and nearly screamed as they took a puff of their own. He just shook his head and chuckled at their actions. As the band made their closing remarks, you moved over to the bar, deciding that a water wasn't a bad idea for your trip home. Your friend was at your side almost instantly, peppering you with questions about what you thought of the show and what your favorite song had been. "God, isn't Dean so sexy?" she gushed, leaning her back against the bar next to your stool.

You furrowed your brows, deciding to humor her despite the fact that you had no idea which one he was. "The sexiest."

"I think we should go next time. I'm pretty sure there's a show on Thursday." You tilted your head at her words, furrowing your brows with a slight smile, but her eyes were glued to something else. The lead singer was moving through the lingering crowd of girls and---who you were assuming to be---friends of the band. He took a few pictures with people and signed a few body parts, his eyes continuously darting towards you and your friend. You rolled your own, turning back to face the bar and tipping the bartender, a man that you had grown to trust throughout the length of the night as he kept your glass filled and didn't ask for more money. "He's coming this way..." she whispered beside you, seemingly shrinking in size. You nodded, less than amused as you heard her titter slightly.

"Hey, thanks for coming out," the accent was suddenly behind you and you turned, looking at your friend taking his extended hand before she asked to get a picture and shoved her phone at you. You sighed, telling the two to smile as she hugged him tightly to her side and he obliged, lightly laughing at her actions.

"You guys sounded great tonight. I don't know if you remember me, but we have English together-" His eyebrows raised at your friend's comment, nodding his head and continuing in conversation after he finally remembered her name. You looked between them before your eyes flashed over to the crowd of girls slightly glaring at the two before you. It was quickly becoming clear to you just how popular this boy was. He leaned forward to whisper something into your friend's ear and her face lit up as he slipped her a piece of paper. You rolled your eyes as she almost bolted to the stage area, straight up to the drummer.

He leaned against the bar counter where she had previously stood and you damn near gathered your belongings to head out, but then remembered your friend. "So, is this your first show?" He asked. Despite the fact that you were sitting on a stool, he was still taller than you were, not in an intimidating way, but you made note of that fact. You also couldn't help but notice just how blue his eyes were when he was this close. For being in a grungy band like he was, you were surprised at just how pretty he actually was.

"Yeah, I came for moral support," you joked.

He grinned sarcastically. "That's so sweet of you." He put his hand over his heart and chuckled.

You couldn't help but smile. "Anything to back the cause," you quipped. "What did you tell her?" You asked, gesturing to your friend engaging in light conversation with the drummer; her smile a mile wide.

The boy next to you chuckled, looking at them too. "He wanted to talk to her. Thought she was cute, you know?" You gave him a look suggesting he was full of shit. "Okay, and I wanted the opportunity to talk to you."

You bit your lip. "And recruit me to be a groupie?" You fought not to laugh as he blushed slightly, the tips of his ears also turning a shade of pink.

"The captain position is open if you're interested?" He jeered, making you scoff.

"Tempting." Your friend rejoined your side with a huge grin on her face and bouncing with excitement. Your eyebrows raised in her direction as a smug expression made its way onto your face. You and the singer watched her compose herself. You heard him giggle quietly at her joy. "So?" You began, pretending the suspense was killing you.

She took a deep breath. "He asked me for my number."

You gasped. "That's great! Are we leaving now?"

"Rude," the boy beside you mumbled and you elbowed him, making him almost snicker. Your friend, still firmly on cloud nine, nodded at you, hugging her purse close to her chest. She thanked the boy and practically danced out of the bar and into the cab you had called. You turned back momentarily and met eyes with the boy again and he waved at you, a stupid grin sent your way to keep with you until you saw him again.

Little did you know, you wouldn't have to wait for long. The next day seemed to bring him right to your doorstep as you exited the building of your first class of the day and almost rammed into him. You tore out your headphones out of your ear and tilted your head at him. He grinned brightly. "Sorry," he muttered. In all honesty, you hadn't even recognized him in the daylight. You rocked back on your heel, relaxing slightly.

"Stalker," you jeered, starting to walk on your previous path. He turned to walk with you. "How'd you find me?"

He clicked his tongue, smiling at his shoes as he walked. "Your dear friend loves talking about you in class, and is incredibly nonchalant about dropping hints," he bit his lip slightly. "I figured I would pop by and see if you wanted company?"

"Yeah so, not stalkery at all," you stated sarcastically, making him chuckle. He looped his thumbs in the straps of his backpack.

"It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you," he coyly stated, slightly cringing at his words.

You pursed your lips to fit the urging smirk from breaking your exterior. "I bless the rains down in Africa..." you finished, causing you to break the tension in the air. He fully let out a laugh, a sound sweet and light enough that you couldn't help but grin at. It still shocked you just how soft he was, a complete hypocrisy to his appearance on stage. Despite it being a surprise, you liked it. "You look different without all the eyeliner," you quipped.

He inhaled sharply, as if nervous for your answer to his next question, his evident confidence becoming a facade before your eyes. "Good different or bad different?"

You shrugged slightly. "I like both, really. So good different, I guess," you answered and you could have sworn you saw the kid beam as you bumped his shoulder.

"Thanks, it's my mom's," he joked, making you smile again and shake your head. "I'm Dean, by the way." He stuck his hand towards you and you shook it.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Dean." The two of you got to your next building. You were slightly later than you wanted to be but as you took a few of the stairs towards the door and looked back at the boy in the dark hoodie, you knew it was worth it.

He smiled up at you and then his brows furrowed, a hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck---one of the first blatant signs of just how nervous you made him. "Before you go," he seemed to fumble for the right words, "are you busy tonight?" His blue eyes darted up to yours and you chuckled, your heart exploding with excitement you hadn't felt since you got an A on your calculus midterm.

You leaned against one of the railings. "Depends what you're doing. You can pick me up at seven if you're not busy."

His smile made your heart flutter as his face went from a taken aback manner to one of pure joy. "I'll clear my schedule."

[newstfionline]

From backyard baptism to potluck Bible study, religion starts at home

By Kristin E. Holmes, Philadelphia Inquirer, Sept. 5, 2017

Rachel Gimber hadn’t been a churchgoer in years, but the small congregation she discovered nine months ago in West Chester instantly felt like home.

The Meeting House church had no imposing stone façade, no vaulted ceiling or stained glass windows, no sign of denomination. It was simply what its name conveyed: a group of believers meeting in a house.

“Sometimes when I walked into a church and didn’t know anybody or feel a connection, I almost felt judged,” said Gimber, 27, a financial portfolio manager from Collegeville, who grew up Catholic. “But in Meeting House, it’s a family setting, and they met me where I was.”

So two weeks ago, she stepped into an inflatable swimming pool in its backyard, sat down in two feet of water, and was baptized during a Friday evening cookout.

The Meeting House is one of dozens of home-based churches in the Philadelphia area that have been opening their screen doors to Christians who want to shed the trappings, if not also some of the underpinnings, of institutional religion. They come to re-imagine worship, to practice their faith unencumbered by traditional liturgies--not to mention the burdens of building maintenance, budgets, and programming.

Usually unaffiliated, house churches--also called “organic” or “simple” churches--might be as minimal as three people sitting at a kitchen table or as large as 50 overflowing a living room. Hierarchies tend to be frowned upon, even though ordained ministers, like Don Graves of East Oak Lane, can be found among the faithful. True to the house church spirit, he eschews the title “reverend.” A “smaller, more intimate and participatory” church, he said, offers a different way of carrying out the resurrected Jesus’ Great Commission to his disciples to win souls.

House church services can be on Sunday mornings or on weekdays after work. Rituals are reshaped to fit the inclinations of the group or tossed aside altogether; in place of sermons are discussions. Music might be a ditty composed on the spot by a congregant.

“The most grassroots groups can really just make it up,” said Nancy Ammerman, a professor of sociology of religion and an associate dean at Boston University. “They draw on patterns of study, preaching, liturgy that they already know, but won’t be constrained by any particular denomination or authority that tells them that you can do this or you can’t. That’s one of the things people like. They have freedom to innovate.”

Because most house churches operate under the radar, their numbers are difficult to estimate. At least 30 appear in online listings in Southeastern Pennsylvania and South Jersey. In a 2009 national study by religion researcher George Barna, as many as 6 percent of respondents said they were part of a “group of believers that meets regularly in a home or place other than a church building.” At the time, Barna estimated their ranks countrywide at between six and 12 million, and predicted substantial growth.

Even mainline denominations are examining the model as they grapple with declining memberships. The Southeastern Pennsylvania Synod of the Evangelical Lutheran Church recently accepted two house churches as affiliates to explore new ways of worship that might broaden the base.

Internationally, in nations such as China, where atheism was once official, underground house churches have long sheltered millions of Christian believers. But the practice dates back much farther, to early Christianity. In the New Testament, missionaries Aquila and Priscilla, friends of the apostle Paul, opened their home in Ephesus to followers of the Corinthian church.

Members of Hunting Park House Church are so committed to reclaiming the simplicity of the early church that they have turned away from Facebook and other social media to reach potential converts, maintaining that Christians should do that in person. Congregants have even disagreed about distributing a flier. Some said “we are the flier,” said the Rev. Andres Fajardo.

In West Chester, the Meeting House congregation, a community of about 50, is going full-bore at the home of Fred Balliet, co-pastor with founder Robb Hollman. Monday is Bible study, Tuesday is youth group, Friday is a community dinner (when Gimber was baptized), Sunday is church.

“It’s life together every day,” Balliet said. “Some might not come to one, but to others. People mix and match.”

At the South Jersey home of Roseann Metrinko in Winslow Township, the Saturday meeting of Seventh-day Adventists was originally a replica of the traditional church service, but evolved into a stripped-down Bible study and dinner.

“We thought, why are we going through the motion of doing all this when what we really wanted was a more relaxed, more interactive atmosphere?” said Metrinko, who had served as the women’s ministry leader of the Seventh-day Adventists’ New Jersey conference.

The congregation is part of the Simple Church at Home Network, a lay-led aggregation of about 250 house churches in 23 countries, most in the U.S. The congregations average 12 members. Founded nine years ago by Milton Adams, a Linden, Tenn., teacher who holds a doctorate of ministry, the network offers Adventists a place to worship where they “won’t get corrected, reprimanded or set straight by someone who sees themselves as an authority figure,” he said.

Ron Pizzo of West Norriton and Bill Posey of Warminster started churches in their homes after becoming disillusioned with their former non-denominational congregations. Both shopped for new churches but wound up holding services in their living rooms.

“We were looking for the perfect church. Of course, there isn’t any,” said Posey, who hosts a group of five to 10 at his home on Sunday evenings--although if that’s inconvenient for most, just about any other evening will do.

Because they’re small, house churches are more vulnerable to the destructive effects of change, whether the loss of members or conflict among them.

At her King of Prussia house church, Roseann Howell has watched families relocate, return to the traditional church or just leave. One house church she belonged to disbanded.

Indeed, the ties that bind can fray easily, Ammerman said. She puts the average life of a house church at about five years.

As outliers of the traditional church, house congregations often operate with little or no oversight. They can be magnets for perpetually dissatisfied people who flit from church to church, as well as ambitious leaders aching for power, no matter how small the platform, said David Anderson, creator of the House Church Network website, which has kept a listing of house churches for 20 years.

“Anything you can find wrong with the organized church,” he said, “you can find it in house churches.”

Simple Church at Home provides leadership training and requires house congregations to report weekly to counselors. Donations are deposited into individual church accounts and used only for local charitable causes, Adams said.

New affiliates of the local synod, the two Lutheran congregations grew out of the closing 10 years ago of St. James Evangelical Lutheran Church in Chalfont. Members began meeting in their homes to pray about their next move, and “we kept on meeting,” said Bob Fisher, an assistant to Bishop Claire Burkat of the synod. The groups call themselves Kairos, a Greek word for “opportune moment.” To Christians, it refers to the appointed time to fulfill God’s purpose, Fisher said.

At a combined meeting in early August in Souderton, 15 members discussed the parable of the sower and took part in an “Agape meal,” or love feast. Each broke a piece from a round loaf of bread, dipped it into a bowl of grape juice, ate it, and so it went around the living room circle--a ritual affirming the presence of God.

“Having been in a church that struggled and closed because of [expenses], the idea is to be sustainable,” Fisher said. “We want to focus our energy and passion on being the church out in the world, rather than simply supporting the superstructure of a building.”