As the Space needle’s fireworks light the sky, another spotlight shines like a beacon on the Seattle skyline. Above the infamous “Science is God” letters, lights flash. A massive party is happening, but it’s not the typical church celebration. There are no holy folks or sermons here, in fact, quite the opposite.
The irony isn’t dead at George Freeman’s glass McMansion, where Lake Union reflects the curiously religious sentiment–yet most lip-locking action is girl-on-girl.
This is the Rectory, and the celebration tonight is only one of many annual events George Freeman hosts to celebrate his form of “religion.”
“We are all children of the same universe,” is Freeman’s self-described tagline. He preaches a vision of equality and purpose under the eyes of God, emphasizing that humans are innately creative and that creativity finds its expression in music and dance.
Longtime Seattle residents may remember his tagline from the top of the Monastery, the church-turned-nightclub that was the original site of Freeman’s practice.
So, who is George Freeman? And what is his message and goal with the Rectory?
A unique journey
As a bisexual Black man growing up in a fundamentalist Christian household, Freeman was a rare breed. A Spokane local, he bounced around group homes before joining the military. After a few years of working in Georgia’s military service, Freeman left due to the military’s racist policies and relocated to New York City.
In New York City, he started $1 “naughty” parties in his Greenwich Village apartments. He invited all his neighbors, and his parties had upwards of 400 guests, lasting throughout the night. These events sparked a sense of community that inspired Freeman to move back home to the Pacific Northwest to recreate a family–one based on dance and freedom of expression.
Age be damned!
Freeman brought something new to Seattle: fun for all ages. During the rise of grunge, there was a plethora of tortured 16-20-year-olds, all clamoring for a place to congregate and share their music.
When George first came to Seattle, it was a bar city, but not a dance city. The only forms of dance were in theater, but there was nowhere to go dress up and dance freely as young people.
Freeman sought to change that, creating all-ages venues where anyone could dance their hearts out.
“Man has always danced. He danced in most of his rituals in primitive times up and through. I would say the 14th century. It was then that the Pope canceled Carnival which was a festive form of weekend food and wines and dancing. That is when the Catholic church added the pews and limited the sacraments to the priest and aloud. Only the wafer, the bread of life, to the new communion process,” says Freeman.
Freeman brought that New York nightclub culture to Seattle. Punk and new wave flourished in the city, and all ages barely monitored event spaces gave birth to some of the great names like Pearl Jam and Nirvana.
Freeman capitalized on the energy and need for the community aspect of Seattle’s youth culture. Many Seattleites, particularly in the LGBTQ+ community and beyond, were searching for a place to express themselves–a place where they could find purpose, community, and a sense of being seen and heard.
“He’s the phoenix,” says Joselito Castillo, a longtime Monastery frequenter and current legendary Seattle DJ. “I left home when I was 18 because I was gay. Freeman gave me a place to create music. I honor him for spinning these records today,” adds Castillo.
The Universal Life Church (ULC)
Freeman, with his Christian religious background, recognized another powerful tool for creating community: religion.
As well as a father of the dance community, he is the father of the Universal Life Church (ULC) branch in Seattle.
The ULC, founded in the 1960s, operates on the belief that anyone can be ordained to perform spiritual duties, including officiating weddings, leading worship services, and offering spiritual guidance. While the ULC’s ordinations are recognized in many jurisdictions, its focus is on inclusivity and the autonomy of its ministers rather than formal training.
Following the original vision of the church’s founder, East Coast’s Rev. Kirby Hensley, Freeman took charge of the church. His ordinations often had a symbolic and personal significance, particularly in a community marked by creativity and individualism. Freeman often ordained artists, musicians, and individuals from the broader Seattle nightlife scene, granting the freedom to officiate ceremonies–including weddings–in a nontraditional and personal way.
The ULC’s non-dogmatic approach resonated with many in Seattle’s alternative and counterculture circles, where formal religious structures were often viewed as too restrictive or conventional.
Ironically, the ULC has almost become synonymous with Seattle’s culture, symbolizing an embrace of nonconformity and individual empowerment.
The Monastery
Combining the dreams of the ULC with his dream of a family, the Monastery was born. In 1977, Freeman purchased an abandoned clapboard church on the corner of Boren Avenue and Steward Street. He began transforming it into his own Seattle version of a Greenwich Village party palace.
Freeman recognized that shaping Seattle’s vision for nightclubs required creating open spaces where music lovers could experience both emerging talent and well-established acts in an inclusive energetic environment.
In an interview, Freeman describes his vision for the Monastery.
“If we look at the 16th century we will see that they were indigenous to the West, from the ancient Greeks’ worship of Dionysus to the medieval practice of Christianity as a ‘danced religion’,” says Freeman.
Freeman added, “Ultimately, church officials drove the festivities into the streets, the prelude to widespread reformation: Protestants criminalized carnival, Wahhabist Muslims battled ecstatic Sufism, European colonizers wiped out native dance rites. The elites’ fear that such gatherings would undermine social hierarchies was justified: the festive tradition inspired French revolutionary crowds and uprisings from the Caribbean to the American plains.”
The Monastery was different: a church with stained-glass windows above a dance floor, while partygoers shimmied beneath the pews. There is also a pool and movie theater downstairs, referred to as the “baptismal” pool.
The venue was known for welcoming the weirdos, the wackadoos, and those who didn’t fit into mainstream Seattle society. Freeman provided them a place for comfort and self-expression, drawing thousands to the Monastery. In the mornings, Freeman even served a full breakfast to his congregants.
For some Seattleites, the Monastery marked their first experience with punk and dance music.
“More than 1000 people may have flown through over the course of the weekend, many dressed in what was then called bat cavers–eclectic leather outfits,” Freeman recalled.
The Monastery was even multigenerational with one frequenter sharing that his older coworker had invited him out after the 9-5.
“It was a place I could go to belong. It felt like family,” said Conrad, a frequenter interviewed in KUOW’s “Let the Kids Dance” special.
The Monastery also provided a refuge for the homeless and those in need.
“For me, it was just a place to not get bullied, but for many others, it was a place to go to survive,” Conrad added.
The 2 a.m. sermon
To maintain its status as a church, each night at 2 a.m., the party would pause for George Freeman to deliver a sermon.
Because the Monastery operated as a church, it was not taxed like a regular nightclub. Additionally, since it was Freeman’s home, he was legally allowed to serve alcohol to his adult guests.
Seattle authorities, however, were not pleased with this arrangement.
A modern-day footloose
“They tried to shut him down. Never in a million years would you hear those tracks on the mainstream. You had to go to the Monastery,” said Joselito Castillo, a frequent guest.
The Monastery was frequently embroiled in controversy. It gained a reputation as a place where outcast teenagers were allegedly exposed to sex and drugs. At the time, the age of consent in Washington was 16, which added fuel to the criticisms. While many of these claims were unfounded, the accusations brought substantial negative attention to the venue.
Formal complaints were filed, accusing Freeman of “poisoning the minds of young people” who, upon visiting the Monastery, were reportedly subjected to moral brainwashing. Freeman never acquired an official business or liquor license for the Monastery, which didn’t help his case.
According to The Seattle Times (April 29, 1985), Prosecutor Norm Maleng filed a civil abatement action to close the Monastery. Undercover police reports documented “blatant drug trafficking, liquor-code violations, and licentious conduct.”
The Monastery’s closure paved the way for Seattle’s Teen Dance Ordinance (TDO), a piece of legislation that was passed by the City Council on July 29, 1985, to address perceived abuses at underage clubs. It was amended in 1988. Key among its provisions included:
- Age limits: Underage dances (allowing those under 18 to attend) may only admit patrons aged 15-20 unsupervised. Anyone younger would require a parent or guardian chaperone and anyone older would need to be accompanying a youth under 18.
- Security requirement: Two off-duty police officers were required on the premises, with one off-duty officer outside to patrol the area.
- Insurance: $1,000,000 in liability insurance was required;
- Exemptions: Non-profits and schools were exempt from these restrictions.
With these requirements, teen dances outside of schools were virtually banned in the city, as no promoter would undertake the costs involved.
Freeman, a self-taught attorney, became a vocal critic of the ordinance, challenging its legality on the grounds that it violated First Amendment rights related to free speech and artistic expression. He argued that the law unfairly targeted certain forms of dance and expression, especially in establishments that catered to adult audiences.
“ I never give up,” Freeman said.
And he didn’t. Thanks to Freeman’s vision, in the years after the Monastery was shut down, in a prohibition-style defiance, Seattle’s nightclub scene became a hotbed of cultural and artistic innovation. The city’s nightlife blossomed alongside the rise of punk rock, with clubs such as The Crocodile, RCKNDY, and the Comet Tavern gaining fame for their intimate settings and eclectic lineups. Nightlife culture during this period became deeply intertwined with Seattle’s burgeoning music scene, helping to launch the grunge movement.
Freeman’s universe and the Rectory
In 2025, Freeman’s Monastery moved to a new home: the Rectory. Alongside the freeway sits the Rectory, a production of Freeman’s modern fantasy. He says he gets all the inspiration for architecture and design from his dreams and an almost Carl Jungian-like inspired philosophy. These dreams dually give him the inspiration for his home and his sermons.
What his dreams have cooked up:
The house is decked out with symbols and homage is to the ULC.
Each floor features a different theme or dream of Freeman.
Parties here last far into the night, and Freeman has the whole thing catered and planned to a T. The most humbling part? Behind the scenes, he’s constantly keeping everything running, making sure the heating is right and all of his guests are properly fed and hydrated.
“I’ve done a lot in my life but I’ve never felt like I couldn’t clean the toilet,” says Freeman.
P.S. There are no secrets in this family, and most of the doors of the bathrooms are left unlocked. Freeman really isn’t afraid of the mess.
Plus, the drinks that float at the monastery are Seattle to the core, (Kirkland Signature is Freeman’s favorite wine).
The future
Freeman says this is just the beginning of the Rectory. All eyes are already on the mansion, Freeman believes it’s time to use that platform in another way–to spread not just flashing lights, but sermons.
“This is Oz, and I’m the wizard in the tower,” says Freeman.
He says that the house should be ready to begin as a practicing ‘fellowship’ by this summer.
An ironic mission
Separation of church and state, right? Or maybe not?
“We are innately social beings, impelled to share our joy and therefore able to envision, even create a more peaceful future,” says Freeman.
For Freeman, the Monastery may just have been a recreation of a sense of family and community he had never had growing up.
But what do you think? Is Freeman’s mission an admirable attempt to create spaces for creative expression and inclusivity? Or is he using a religious ‘front’ to promote his own party culture?
And what does Seattle think about Freeman’s mission?
“Seattle is one of the least religious parts of the world and I do think that manifests in the general discontent and lack of community and lots of places and lots of people lives and while I think it’s a good thing that we’re moving away from traditional organized religion, I think There’s a gap left behind and to be able to co-op the language of religion and the ritual of religious service in a secular and inclusive way to continue to build community,” says Jaren, a local Seattlite.
“To have these spiritual moments where we moving our bodies together and singing together and engaging in a shared service with a shared active shared sense of purpose, I think that’s really important and that’s really encouraging and more people they don’t have to do it necessarily as explicitly as he does it with the deliberate use of religious language but we should be looking to fill our lives with communities of shared purpose,” he says.
Are we lacking those spaces nowadays, places where all can come and let loose?
In 2025, third places—spaces where people gather—are increasingly found in local libraries or beloved independent bookstores like Elliott Bay Book Company.
“Those are my third places. I suppose the bars can be. The cover charges make it a little less so,” says Patrick, a Capitol Hill resident.
Seattle has changed a lot, both in its inclusive nature and in its party culture. As founders and changemakers in the texting scene, we have almost become an LGBTQ and pride city. Freeman, regardless of how you view him, plays a big part in that change.
An atheist’s s attempt at a completely non-judgemental post-visit reflection
The Rectory is a conundrum. In a city that can feel overwhelmingly gray, it offers some colorful movements–people standing up for what they believe in, regardless of religion or origin.
For Freeman, “we are all equal under the eyes of God.” He is fundamentally humanistic, acting upon or saying that he does act upon, desires that we may well share. These desires and ethics, regardless of what may appear cultish, have been the basis for many religions and ways of thinking.
Freeman’s message is inherently biblical, and while it may comfort some, others may shy away. If we remove prejudice and focus on inclusivity, we can better understand Freeman’s mission.
So, while you may not agree with Freeman’s motto or prescribe his way of life, we can at least consider his message when it comes to our own lives.
For me, it means acknowledging that other perspectives and ways of being do exist. In a city defined by routines–going to your favorite coffee shop, then to work, happy hour, and bed-Freeman’s vision invites us to shake things up. Take off your headphones, listen to the music and dance.
There’s also something to be said for the self-made success of George Freeman. He made a name for himself in Seattle, even if that name sometimes stirs unrest. His impact will be felt here for the foreseeable future.
We don’t have to drink the purple Kool-Aid, but it’s an interesting way to ponder the future state of Seattle. The Monastery was a third place for many–an inclusive community where everyone let their lights shine. Maybe we need more of those places. So if anything, let the Rectory, the Monastery, and George Freeman help you find your own third place, if you need it. And maybe buy some dancing shoes along the way.
Amen.
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