Our Story

If you’re checking out Common Thread for the first time, you are likely curious. Maybe you found us online and are thinking, hmm, these folks are unique. Maybe you’ve already visited and thought, something here feels different—and now you’re wondering why.

A Little Background

Let’s be honest: the Church has lost a lot of trust.
For decades now—maybe longer – many of us have watched Christianity drift further from love. For some, the word Christian no longer feels like good news at all. It’s come to be associated with:

• Intolerance and exclusion
• Hypocrisy and control
• Harm toward LGBTQ+ people and women
• A disconnect from science, reason, and compassion

When Doug Hammack started Common Thread in 1995 (then called North Raleigh Community Church, or NRCC), many of those who found the place were disillusioned. They still felt drawn to the sacred—but they knew something in the religion they’d inherited needed to change.

One of the sayings that’s become part of our community is this:
It’s our tradition’s way to lose its way… but also to find it again.

That’s what we’ve been working on for the last few decades:
Not reinventing Christianity—but remembering it.
Returning to the roots. Letting go of what no longer gives life.
Finding our way back to Love.

1995–2006: The Wilderness Years

Doug and the earliest members of NRCC experienced something meaningful in Christianity, but they were no longer sure how to trust it.

So, they didn’t rush to rebuild.
They gathered simply, became friends, and gave each other space to grieve, to question, and to heal.

It was a wilderness season—marked more by dismantling than constructing. They asked honest questions about everything:

What does it mean to be Christian? Do we still want to be?
What is church for? Why do people pray, sing, gather on Sundays, or sit in rows?

They didn’t have many answers. But slowly, something deeper began to emerge.

They rediscovered Christianity’s contemplative tradition – the quieter practices of stillness, silence, and inner listening.

They stopped settling for secondhand religion and began seeking firsthand spiritual encounter.
They began to rebuild a sense of spiritual community—not through programs, but through presence.

By 2006, a new kind of faith was beginning to take root: freer, less burdened by fear or performance, and more grounded in love.

2007–2014: Opening the Doors

By the mid-2000s, the community had begun to experience something rich and meaningful—spiritual friendship, contemplative depth, and the beginnings of a freer, more grounded faith. There was a sense of healing. Of exhaling.

And then, in 2007, two things shifted.

First, Doug (who was still leading the community) began a series of teachings about the Church undergoing a kind of new Reformation—one that asked hard questions and invited people to rethink inherited religious assumptions.

The message was bold. It resonated with some, and it challenged others.

That year, about 40% of the community left.

But 60% stayed.

And for those who stayed, the experience deepened.

Second, there was a growing restlessness. A feeling that something beautiful was happening—but that it was hidden. They sensed there were others in Raleigh on a similar path: wrestling, healing, hoping for something more. People who might feel alone.

Still, they hesitated. Would growing the community change it? Would something precious be lost?

Over time, the resistance softened. The nudge to open the doors—and hearts—kept returning.

And eventually, it became a shared sense of call.

By 2009, they began to prepare. They refreshed their space, redesigned the website, and started telling their story out loud.

Not to convince anyone.

Just to say: If you’re looking for something like this, you’re not alone.

And people came.
New faces. New energy.
A community beginning to stretch—and grow.

Except…

2014–2023: Kicked Out, Taken In

In 2014, Doug published a book reflecting on what the community had been learning—about God, sin, salvation, and spiritual transformation. Much of the church’s teaching at the time centered on rethinking inherited religious ideas: not as rebellion, but as an attempt to stay honest, stay faithful, and find a path forward.

At the time, the church was still part of a traditional denomination.
You can probably guess: the book didn’t go over well.

Not long after, the denomination revoked Doug’s credentials.
And in solidarity, the church chose to leave with him.

It was a hard season.
The denomination owned the building, so the community lost not only its affiliation, but its space. It felt like being orphaned.

And then—grace showed up in an unexpected place.

Temple Baptist Church heard what had happened and offered their unused chapel and children’s wing. The two communities were very different in style and theology. NRCC was a little guarded, a little wary. But Temple Baptist welcomed them with warmth, generosity, and love. No doctrinal tests. No strings attached. Just kindness.

It was a deeply healing experience. A reminder of what “Christian” can mean when it’s rooted in love.

The two churches shared space for seven years—until Temple Baptist sold their building. During that time, the community also changed its name from North Raleigh Community Church to Common Thread, wanting to move beyond a geographic identity and express something deeper: the sacred connection running through all of us.

So after a long search, Common Thread found a new home at Ridge Road Baptist Church in 2022. Like Temple, Ridge Road was gracious and welcoming.

But something else changed too: this time, Common Thread arrived less guarded, more open. Ready to be good neighbors. Ready to love and collaborate from day one.

It feels more like how things are meant to be.

2024: A Year of Transition

Doug always knew he wouldn’t be at the helm forever. But after so many years of leading such a unique community, it was hard for some to imagine a future beyond his leadership.

Over time, several wonderful folks stepped into ministry here—each discerning for themselves what this path might hold. Some found it wasn’t quite their life’s calling after all, and that clarity was welcomed as part of the process.

Then, in 2024, something new began to unfold.

On February 11, two members of the community were ordained, affirming their sense of call to serve in spiritual leadership. That fall, after three decades of guiding this church from its earliest questions to its current identity, Doug officially passed the torch. On November 3, Sue Kemple became Common Thread’s new leader—the second person in its history to guide the community.

Just weeks before, in September, the community installed its first governing board, marking another milestone in Common Thread’s evolution. Supported by new by-laws, the board now helps steward the health and direction of the community, offering structure for this next chapter—one shaped not just by a single voice, but by a shared vision.

It was a year of endings and beginnings. A year of letting go and stepping forward.
A year of becoming.

2025: From Rethinking to Redeeming Christianity – Lab to Church

Although Common Thread has always called itself a church, in many ways it functioned like a spiritual lab—a place to take things apart, test ideas, let go of what no longer served, and begin again. That made sense for a long time. For decades, this was a home for the disillusioned—for people hurt by religion, longing to heal, and unsure if anything sacred could survive the unraveling.

But something is shifting.

These days, fewer people are finding us because of religious trauma. More are coming because they’re spiritually hungry. They’re drawn to contemplation, but can’t find it in conventional churches. They’re seeking mysticism, but don’t know where to look. They may not even identify as Christian—at least not in the ways that word usually gets defined. But they feel at home here.

And that tells us something.

Through years of thoughtful, often quiet practice, this community has uncovered something enduring—an ancient wisdom at the heart of the Christian path. The wisdom that came before empire, before dogma took over. The wisdom of mystics and contemplatives, of desert mothers and fathers, of Quakers and seekers, of a deeper stream still running beneath it all.

What began as rethinking has become redeeming.
Not in the sense of trying to rescue what can’t be saved, but in the sense of reclaiming what is still radiant and real.
Not a return to certitude or institutional religion, but a movement toward wonder, freedom, and spiritual maturity.

Doug is now working on how to share the gifts cultivated here with the wider world.
And Sue, alongside the community, is imagining how our shared life can keep deepening through a mystical and contemplative lens—supporting spiritual growth, not just for individuals, but for the healing of our world.

If this resonates with your own journey, we’d love to meet you.
No pressure. No expectations. Just a spacious welcome.