The term” third places” was coined by sociologist Ray Oldenburg back in the 1980s. Think of morning coffee rituals at McDonalds, evening gatherings at small town pubs, or afternoons at well-frequented public libraries, and you can distill the definition of a “third place”—a physical location other than work or home where there’s little to no financial barrier to entry and where conversation is the primary activity.
In recent years, places that meet all the criterion of a “third place” have declined for a variety of reasons. Most recently, we lost access to such places because of a global pandemic. It’s hard to spend enough time in a place for free-form conversation when you’re trying not to transmit an air-born virus.
The maintenance of third places is difficult for other reasons also. Such “third places” sometimes become commodified (what Allie Conti in her recent Atlantic articles calls ersatz third places). So your local coffee shop starts selling $8 coffees.
And under neoliberalism third places can be co-opted. Workplaces have attempted to bring the third place vibe into the workplace. This presents its own risks, because a workplace “third place” is really just a work “second place” where conversations about work are expected or desired.
And some third places present barriers. As a non-drinker, I do not find pubs and bars to be safe "third places.” Too much temptation and distraction.
Ideal third places are truly public spaces where people can gather and do gather—libraries, parks, pedestrian boulevards.
There’s one other space common in many neighborhoods if generally overlooked in sociological conversation regarding third places.
Churches.
Church buildings are or can be ideal third places. There’s no financial barrier to entry, and as long as the church has climate control and chairs, you can comfortably congregate. Many churches even have the accoutrements of other public third places—for example, our church has a library, open kitchens, a board game room, ping pong and air hockey, and outdoor meditation and gaming space.
So why are churches neglected third places? I think at least in part because many church buildings are locked during the week and only open on Sundays. So although they are outfitted as ideal third places they aren’t available.
Churches may also be neglected because churches are oddly privatized instead of public. They are intended for, or perhaps possessively stewarded by, a select group of people, the members, all of whom share a certain ideological disposition.
Not all churches are like this. I’ve been to churches even in busy urban centers who leave their doors unlocked, and our church here in Arkansas will basically give the door code out to anyone who wants to use the building.
But perhaps many churches throw off a kind of vibe that reduces their accessibility. We may not charge you $5 bucks for a cup of coffee, but we imply to insiders that if they come to church we’re going to put them to work, and we imply to outsiders that we seek to convert them.
But let’s consider (at least some) churches as authentic third places. What would a church be like that was truly a third place? What would it do for the church and the community? Consider:
"The character of a third place is determined most of all by its regular clientele and is marked by a playful mood, which contrasts with people's more serious involvement in other spheres. Though a radically different kind of setting for a home, the third place is remarkably similar to a good home in the psychological comfort and support that it extends...They are the heart of a community's social vitality, the grassroots of democracy, but sadly, they constitute a diminishing aspect of the American social landscape." (Ray Oldenburg)
Let’s start with the playful mood. I’m reminded here of the television show Cheers, where each person entering the pub was warmly greeted. They were literally cheered. So church space, if it is going to be third place, would need some markers indicating those arriving aren’t there primarily for something (like work, or volunteering, or to “get Jesus”) but primarily for play, serendipity, interaction.
Second, like a good home, church as third place would offer the comforts of home. I grew up in a rather large church in Davenport, Iowa, and as an active youth at the church I really did feel like the building was an extension of my own home. I knew it’s nooks and crannies. And I knew if I was there at certain times, I could collapse into a comfy couch eating pizza or sit down with some friends and devour donuts. I remember those conversations as much or more vividly even than worship (although I did also memorize the liturgy and can still feel the organ vibrating my very bones).
Thinking of church as third place would ask of all of us a couple of simple shifts. First, like any other third place, we’d have to start just going to church to hang out. In the same way I sometimes want to go to browse at Barnes & Noble and hope I see some friends, I’d need to just go to church and hope I run into someone.
Honestly, as this pandemic has been ending, we’re seeing more and more of that at church. People stop by to get something from the pantry or closet, and then they stay and make friends. Some hallways anchor conversations that extend for minutes or hours.
And then also, for a church to truly be a third place, it would need to help the whole community know that it’s open to the public. A public library can’t serve the whole community if the community thinks the library is only for the Lutherans. So too church can be third place especially once people know they can be there just because it’s shelter, and chairs, and clean restrooms, and the chance to make new friends.
I’ve been on a long trajectory of revamping our church as truly third place right now. On a given week, you’ll find groups playing DnD in our gaming loft, practicing theater productions in the nursery, hosting birthday parties in the Fellowship Hall, learning how to sew, and so much more. Although people still come primarily to do something specific, we’ve been adapting the space so it is more inviting to just hang out, and accidentally encounter others. I’d absolutely love to learn from readers how your church or other third place does this.
We need more of this productivity-free, expectation-less social gathering. It maintains our humanity.
I know you've often balked at the rigid concept of church membership. What if we just call ourselves "regulars"?