England's Wrestling Church mixing fights with faith

At England's only "wrestling church," believers and fans sit side-by-side, cheering over smackdowns, body slams and headbutts — a spiritual show that's shaking up tradition. "It's not church as you would know it. It's certainly not for everyone," Natasha Thomas, the vicar of St. Peter's Anglican church in the northern town of Shipley, told AP.

It's the creation of Gareth Thompson, 37, who experienced abuse and homelessness as a child. For him, wrestling is more than just a show. "Boil it down to the basics, it's good versus evil," he said. "When I became Christian, I started seeing the wrestling world through a Christian lens — David and Goliath, Cain and Abel. ...And I'm like, 'We could tell these stories.'"

Between the matches, Thompson — a mix of preacher and ringmaster — holds short sermons. After a prayer, the wrestling is back on. "It works both ways," said 33-year-old Liam Ledger, who wrestles as Flamin' Daemon Crowe. "There's people that come here that are big on religion, and they're here for all of that sort of stuff. And then they go, 'Oh, actually this wrestling is sort of fun.'"

Stephanie Sid, 26, who performs under the stage name Kiara, poses for a photo with her golden championship belt before a fight. She also combines her faith with the sport. "I invite my opponent to pray with me, pray that we have a safe match, pray that there's no injuries and pray that we entertain everybody here," she told AP.

In the pungent changing room, as wrestlers discuss fight plans, don kneepads and lace up worn boots, Flamin' Daemon Crowe said it's a bit "surreal" when baptisms are held between bouts. "But it's bringing in a different group of people, a different community, than we would normally get," said the Reverend Thomas.

The T-shirt says it all. A recent evening brought some 200 people to fill the chairs in the century-old church — from tattooed fans to older couples. "I think it's absolutely wonderful," said Chris Moss, who married her husband Mike in St. Peter's almost 50 years ago. At first she thought it wasn't for her. But talking to the wrestlers made her realize "you shouldn't judge a book by its cover."

Thirty people were baptized at Wrestling Church in its first year. Only a few come back on Sundays — but that doesn't bother Thompson, who founded the charity Kingdom Wrestling in 2022 and plans to expand to other British cities. Kingdom Wrestling offers more than just matches: self-defense, tutoring, men's meetings — it's a church that cares for body, mind and soul.

Less than half of Britons still describe themselves as Christian — within the last 10 years, those who say they have no religion rose from 25% to 37%. Some churches are fighting to survive, and taking unconventional approaches. "You've got to take a few risks," said the Reverend Thomas.