Hannah Felsbourg
15 February 2025
In an industrial building in Melbourne’s eastern suburbs, race car parts and motorcycles line the walls of the main space — a thoroughly blokey environment.
But near the entrance, a blackboard displays a welcome prayer, and upstairs, a small room offers a quiet space for reflection.
Its walls are covered with handwritten prayers, Bible verses, and words of encouragement scrawled on sticky notes.
This is The Shed Door — a place that defies easy categorisation. It’s not quite a church, not quite a man cave, but somewhere intentionally in between.
Here, people who might never step foot in a traditional church find community over coffee, car talk, and occasionally, conversations about faith.
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Behind The Shed Door is Phil Simpson, a barrister by trade who divides his time between court appearances and community ministry.
The idea emerged 13 years ago during his tenure as chaplain at Blackburn Primary School, where a pattern caught his attention.
“I kept meeting people, dads in particular, who were sort of disconnected and not super engaged,” Mr Simpson recalled.
“We thought, what can we do about that?”
The answer started small: about 15 men around a campfire for a monthly gathering called Shednite.
The next month there were 25, then 30, and within a few months, up to100 men were showing up.
They met in a garage for several years before eventually finding their current home in Mitcham.
From those early fireside gatherings, The Shed Door has evolved into a bustling hub of activity throughout the week.
Wednesday nights bring 30 to 50 young people for Shed Youth, mixing pizza and casual conversation with gospel messages or sometimes “don’t-do-what-I-did messages.”
The original men’s events continue monthly, drawing crowds to hear speakers ranging from AFL footballers to Supreme Court judges.
Past speakers have included Supreme Court Justice Michael Croucher, St Kilda ruckman Rowan Marshall, and V8 Supercar driver Cam Waters.
The space also hosts Food4Thought, where people gather over shared meals to explore faith and life’s big questions.
There are also monthly 24-hour prayer sessions where people drift in and out of the prayer room upstairs around the clock.
Inside the prayer room upstairs at The Shed Door. Picture: Hannah Felsbourg
“The barriers to entry here are deliberately very low,” Mr Simpson explained, leaning back in the informal space that reflected this philosophy.
Traditional churches could feel as foreign to outsiders as stepping into an unfamiliar religious order to a believer, he said, but The Shed Door was intentionally different.
“That’s why it feels sort of ad hoc and disorganised — because that’s something people can relate to,” he said.
“We’re high on relationship, low on control. If someone comes with an idea, we say ‘Well, [the shed’s] free Tuesday, knock yourself out.'”
It wasn’t about running programs, Mr Simpson clarified, but about creating genuine connections.
Twice a year, The Shed Door hosts “Coffee, Cars and Bikes” events, filling the street with custom vehicles while neighbours gather over free coffee and barbecue.
These events routinely draw hundreds from the community.
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The Shed Door’s approach emphasises belonging, creating space for authentic relationships without pressure.
“Whether someone chooses to explore faith is of absolutely no consequence,” he said. “They’re greeted here as a brother or sister. We don’t have those hidden agendas.”
The Shed Door receives no church funding, instead supported by a small group of committed individuals.
“We’ve always seemed to meet the budget through the generosity of others,” Mr Simpson said.
“We never ask for money. We don’t go on fundraising drives. But no one has turned the lights off on us yet.”
The space attracts people from all walks of life — from privileged backgrounds to challenging ones, from those dealing with addiction to young people from broken families.
As an alcohol-free environment, it offers a rare social space where those battling addiction can find connection while avoiding temptation.
Mr Simpson is continually surprised by who walked through the doors.
“I’m always touched by the way people want to be involved here,” he said.
Some of the most committed volunteers are non-Christians.
“Everyone wants to be useful. Everyone wants to be involved,” Mr Simpson said.
“I think sometimes we think that Christians have a monopoly on building community and making people feel welcome, and it’s really clear in a place like this that’s not the case.”
For many young people who have not experienced the warmth and affirmation of a stable family environment, The Shed Door becomes a crucial point of connection.
While not every interaction goes perfectly to plan, Mr Simpson said that was part of working with youth.
What mattered was that people were finding community, purpose, and sometimes, healing.
“I want to see people being restored, people being made whole, people discovering what they were made for,” Mr Simpson said.
“Because I speak to a lot of people who actually don’t seem to have any purpose, as a result of things that were often beyond their control.”
While careful not to criticise traditional churches, Mr Simpson suggests they consider the barriers that keep people from entering their buildings.
“I would love to see people think creatively about what outreach looks like,” he said.
He also advocates for what he calls a parallel career — the model that allows him to practice law while contributing to The Shed Door.
Mr Simpson encourages other professionals to consider scaling back their main careers to pursue their calling.
“I would like to see more of it — professionals, tradies, whatever. Dialling back their bread-and-butter job and leaning into what God called them to do.”
More information about The Shed Door can be found on their Facebook page.
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