The House that Faith Built

On the quaint, quiet, maple-lined Harrisonburg street called Greenbriar is a nice, big house in which any 80-year-old grandma would love to live. It’s nestled behind the elegant President Rose estate and faces the home of a JMU professor. It stays tidy and always smells like a baking cake. Covering its warm-colored interior walls are family portraits. Its residents cook four army-sized "family meals" each week, and always spend two hours every Sunday evening in "family meetings."

The nine senior guys who live at Greenbriar, as they so lovingly call the house, live the college life with a sense of solidarity, much like a family. But this is no fraternity. They’re just a random group of friends whose bond is close and faith is strong, but so very different than groups clad in Greek letters.

At Greenbriar, six beds are stuffed into one room so snugly that two of the occupants sleep in doorless walk-in closets. The guys also crowd their computers into one small space, dubbed "The War Room." The roommates say both acts help keep their morals in check.

This atypical arrangement leaves extra rooms for social interaction, like the movie lounge, where they store over 600 films, or the family room, which every December holds an 8-foot Christmas tree they always cut down themselves. Plus, having to share bedrooms and computer space "offers us no place to hide from the problems in our lives," said resident Kyle Vitasek.

If there’s ever a problem between the Greenbriar guys, it is brought up in the Sunday family meeting. These meetings call for the kind of openness and communication from the depths of the soul that most girls didn’t know existed in the masculine gender. This desire for accountability stems from one source, said resident Jeffrey Young. "We are unified in our trust in God.

"Five years ago, this house began with a group of guys who were committed to Christ and creating fun traditions," Young said.

Resident Mike Slatter said "Today, it’s still going strong." "Each guy in the house is here to pursue life with Jesus first, and then friendship is a fruit of that primary relationship." With that common goal and agreement to love and spend time together like brothers, they seem all the more like a picture perfect family.

Even mother lives there. Many folks don’t know their real names, nor do they understand the quirky reasons behind them. But that’s just part of the Greenbriar brotherly dynamic. Mother, whose real name is T.J. Ill, got his alias from a song about a trucker with the lyric "my name is Steve Mother Truckin’ Polykronopolis." And "Sloan", whose true name is Chris Wells, was named after the toilet paper dispenser (brand name "Sloan") in his dorm bathroom sophomore year. Then there’s Slatterass, Yeti, Johnny Slumber, Facebreak, Sweet Thang, Cornbread and Grumble Mumble, each with its own secret Greenbriar story.

The quirkiness doesn’t end with pseudonyms. To spend more bonding time together, the housemates eat four family meals together every week without fail. "Each meal, two guys will select a menu, cook the food and then clean up," said resident Rob Musser. "They also get to choose a name for the meal such as "Eat Your Face Off" or "Jerk That Chicken" and "Go to Work."

Outsiders see the meals as an amazing feat of organization, especially for college males. Self-proclaimed Greenbriar "groupie" senior Amanda Grover said, "One time I walked in and all the lights in the house were off and you could hear Italian music and some voices. I walked over to the dining room and saw them eating dinner by candlelight. It was spaghetti night."

You never know what you’ll see there, Grover said. For instance, don’t interrupt on Sunday night family meetings, she warned. You might see disturbing images of guys in muumuus, tutus and cowboy hats, drinking Honey Lagers. Sundays are the only time Greenbriar is not welcoming to outsiders, Slattery said, because "house meetings are sacred times."

"It’s the one time when we get really vulnerable to each other and pray together," Parker Smith said.

At the meeting, the Greenbriar gang also comes up with the next theme for their "family portrait," which they get done at Wal-mart most Saturdays, and then they decide on the next big party to throw.

Parties at Greenbriar are in no way conventional. "We spend hours planning them," Musser said. "We divide up into various committees to make sure the parties run on all cylinders — there’s a public relations committee, an ambiance committee and a food committee."

For their classy jazz and wine "Cosmopolitan Evening" party, they printed fancy invitations at Kinko’s, dressed in suits and hand-delivered them to each invitee’s home. They even arranged valet parking and photo booths. "It was great to just spend a night pretending to be super sophisticated," Smith said.

No matter how big the event at Greenbriar, and despite the constant flow of visitors, the house stays pristine, according to the droves of friends who stop by daily. "The guys plan to keep it that way. They want their tradition to be passed on to seniors every year after they leave."

For all their apparent successes — their unique close relationships, beautiful home or creative festivities — the guys take none of the credit. Slattery said, "The house is a gift from God, not an accomplishment."