How and Why I Came to
Initiate The Church of Wow

The story behind its origins...

The Church of Wow was born from a longing — a need for celebration, and an unmet need for community.

As a celebrant, I’ve always been a sucker for ceremony. To me, ritual is the punctuation of life — the commas, question marks and exclamation points that give meaning to the everyday.

After years of church shopping — exploring temples, rituals, religions, and spiritual practices — I never found a place that truly felt like home. I loved fragments of what I found: the silence of the Quakers, their meditative calm, the concise, heartfelt contributions… and yes, the cake. But somehow, none of it quite quenched the thirst that had first been awakened in my early twenties.

Finding My First “Church”

As a young man, I stumbled across a group of eight drummers huddled beneath Brighton’s West Pier, frantically warming their hands between bursts of glorious West African rhythm. They were exceptional percussionists, and I soon joined them. We played as the sun went down, watching the starlings’ murmurations swirl above the pier.

After that first encounter, I returned every Sunday for the next three years — and came to realise I was the only one who attended so religiously. One day, I caught myself thinking: this is my church.

At its height, that spontaneous gathering drew more than a thousand people to the beach. It was a living, breathing celebration of rhythm, connection, and joy.

But eventually, the authorities intervened. The council shut it down, and the pier itself was claimed by redevelopment. That loss hit hard. It marked the end of something sacred — and I realised how deeply that experience had shaped my understanding of what true celebration could be.

A Community in Rhythm

As the drum circle grew, it became a patchwork of offerings. Some brought sage; others, frankincense. Candles were lit, fire was juggled, and every kind of percussion found its way to the seafront. From that, I learned so much about sound, space, and how people connect through rhythm.

There was one evening I’ll never forget — when voices suddenly joined the music. I looked out to see lines of people standing shoulder to shoulder, forming spontaneous choirs, singing together without any direction. It was pure, unplanned harmony — the sound of human connection.

When the pier drumming ended, I found myself in mourning. Yet out of that loss, The Church of Wow began to take shape.

Music as Communion

Playing outdoors for years taught me how profoundly music can bond people. Without words, a deep intimacy grows — especially through shared rhythm and voice. Those sunset gatherings gave me a glimpse of what our ancestors must have felt: that timeless human need to gather, to sing, to dance, to play — to step outside the rational and into the sacred.

Pat Power, a seminal force in the samba scene, once said (as quoted by Gareth Stevens):

“Humans have always been hard-wired for ritual; they have a collective need for ceremony. Whilst the demise of organised religion and the loss of collective worship have left a gap, our need to come together and celebrate is still there.”

That truth lies at the heart of The Church of Wow.

A New Home

An outdoor gathering has its magic, but it’s also at the mercy of the elements — and neighbours. The West Pier gave us just enough shelter to keep playing, but such spaces are rare.

The Great Hall on London Road in St Leonards offered the perfect home for a new chapter. Every Saturday, above the bustling market downstairs, The Church of Wow gathered to make music, to move, and to connect.

The hall’s acoustics were glorious — the tower perfect for voices, the main space alive with percussion. The drummers who joined were phenomenal and the music that filled the hall had a palpable energy. People danced with eyes closed, exploring their voices and bodies in the freedom of shared rhythm.

After each celebration, people lingered for coffee or lunch, sharing warmth, laughter, and a sense of belonging.

Now we're looking for a new home.

We call ourselves Shakers — like Quakers, but without the cake. It’s a small but vibrant community of movers and shakers who connect many circles across town.

If you love music, dancing, singing — or simply being part of something joyful, honest, and human — The Church of Wow might just be for you.