When a sex shop is converted!

 This news story immediately caught my attention—a gift for any sub-editor in search of a headline: Sex shop converted.

Castlegate Church in the West Midlands, founded just nine years ago, has been granted planning permission to convert a former sex shop into its new place of worship. The reimagined building will include a café, foodbank, youth room, vestry, and a main worship area with seating for up to 156 people.

A church spokesperson described the move as a sign of hope: “It’s about offering a space for restoration—spiritually, emotionally, and practically.”

And so we pray: Lord, bless this step of faith. May the conversion of this building lead to the conversion of many broken lives.

It took me back to a moment years ago when I was a vicar in Rochdale. I’d been invited to a day conference at a church in Oldham which had recently taken over the old Bees Knees nightclub. I never did discover how that venture fared in the long run, but I remember the atmosphere vividly: a worship space that still reeked of stale beer. Not quite the aroma of incense—but God works with what we give him.

There’s something deeply encouraging about such transformations. They remind us that no space—no matter its past associations—is beyond redemption. If bricks and mortar can be reclaimed for God’s purposes, so too can people and communities.

Church history is full of such stories. Many of our oldest and most beautiful churches were built on the sites of former pagan temples. The early Christians didn’t always demolish; they redeemed. They baptised spaces with prayer, praise, and proclamation. What had once been dark became a dwelling of light.

Perhaps the most striking example comes from France. The home of Voltaire—the Enlightenment philosopher famous for declaring that the Bible would soon be obsolete—is now the headquarters of the French Bible Society. The house that once hosted his scepticism now resounds with the sending out of Scripture across the nation.

A spokesperson for the French Bible Society remarked, “There’s a quiet irony here—but also a sense of providence. This house now echoes not with scepticism, but with the message of hope.”

It’s as though God takes particular delight in turning such moments on their head.

This shouldn't surprise us. The God we worship is in the business of redemption. He turns crosses into empty tombs, persecutors into apostles, and prodigals into honoured guests at the feast. That’s his modus operandi.

Corinth in the days of the New Testament was filled with sex shops—at least, the 1st-century equivalent. So much so that the town’s name, Korinth, became a verb in Greek: korinthiazomai—“to live like a Corinthian”—a byword for shameless indulgence and immorality.

Paul knew the city’s reputation well. Writing to the church in Corinth, he pulls no punches: “The sexually immoral, idolaters, adulterers, male prostitutes, men who engage in illicit sex, thieves, the greedy, drunkards, revilers, swindlers—none of these will inherit the kingdom of God.” (1 Corinthians 6:9f)

Then comes the Gospel twist: “And this is what some of you used to be” (v.11).

Used to be—but no longer. He goes on: “But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and in the Spirit of our God.”

That’s grace in action. God starts from where we are—even at the bottom of the ditch. But such is his love that he refuses to leave us there. Through the ministry of the Spirit, transformation begins.

Back in Rochdale, our monthly men’s group met in a pub up the road from church. One evening, a new member shared how Christ had rescued him—casually mentioning that as a new Christian he had thrown out his extensive porn collection. He clearly thought using porn was normal. It was—but it shouldn’t be.

Tim Keller, author and pastor, observes: "The human heart longs for intimacy, but when we replace real relationship with fantasy, we don't just distort God's design—we wound ourselves."

Today, pornography is big business—worth around £2.95 billion in the UK as of 2023—and it is becoming increasingly normalised. Just last week, the Online Safety Act 2023 came into effect, mandating strict age verification for adult content. We can only hope it does what it’s meant to do.

That’s why there's something profoundly sacramental in seeing a former sex shop become a church. It’s more than a clever headline—it’s a signpost. Where once there was exploitation, there is now compassion. Where there was shame, now there is prayer. Where there was darkness, now there is light.

So let’s rejoice in this story—not just because it’s ironic, but because it’s true. It’s a parable of redemption, a glimpse of resurrection. God can take even the most broken places and fill them with hope. And if he can do it with buildings, he can surely do it with us.

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