I’ve said it often enough myself. I’ve heard others say it as if it were obviously true. But now I wonder. I certainly wouldn’t debate the fact that the church is made up of people, and the structures we meet in are secondary to that reality, but in our haste to make this point, perhaps we have missed something of the value and theological importance of the church building.
I have been thinking about this ever since David Fitch’s blog post from over a year ago on the positive missional/incarnational implications of having a church building. A few quotes:
"…are there times when inhabiting a building might itself be incarnational according to missional logic?"
"…if taking up embodiment in a community will require that this community
see us, watch our way of life, see they way we welcome and engage the
hurting, see God in our architecture, our meals, our artwork and
worship, there might be times when we take residence a place that is
visible to the community."
Then a quote from N.T. Wright (I can’t remember if it was a book or lecture) on how celebrating the Eucharist in a church building was the best way (not the only way) to do it, as it is a space set apart specifically for that purpose. He compared it to drinking wine – if all you have is a paper cup, that will do fine. The wine is what’s important. But the best way to drink wine is out of a wine glass. So if you’ve got one, don’t go with the paper cup.
And finally I’ve been reading Eugene Peterson’s The Jesus Way and in a section where he talking about how Jesus seemed to refuse to be anti-institutional (he attended temple and synagogue, the Jewish feasts, etc, despite the open corruption and sin that inhabited such places) he says this:
"We sometimes say, thoughtlessly I think, that the church is not a building. It’s people. I’m not so sure. Synagogues and temples, cathedrals, chapels, and storefront meeting halls provide continuity in place and community for Jesus to work his will among his people. A place, a building, collects stories and develops associations that give local depth and breadth and continuity to our experience of following Jesus. We must not try to be more spiritual than Jesus in this business. Following Jesus means following him into sacred buildings that have a lot of sinners in them, some of them very conspicuous sinners. Jesus doesn’t seem to mind."
I don’t think anyone is saying that God’s work can only happen inside specially sanctioned buildings, but those "sacred" buildings can certainly provide an embodied missional presence in a neighborhood, city, etc. From a missional perspective, what do you see as the drawbacks and/or advantages of having a building?
Actually, there are a lot of drawbacks, which ultimately is why Jesus didn’t go to synagogue.
I know that if you read Luke 4:16 in isolation it could lead to the idea that Jesus regularly attended. But if you stay with the narrative what you get is Jesus WANTING to go to synagogue because that’s where the people are, but being FORCED out by those in charge. Mark sets up the story of why Jesus inhabited the lonely places at the end of chapter one, and writes it throughout his gospel. In Matthew every trip to the synagogue is Jesus being confrontational. In Luke they all end with the people being furious.
I suppose building advocates would accept what I have said, but then offer a renewed invitation to me: since all of us today love Jesus and his ways there’s no more reason for anyone to be furious, please come back. Been there, done that. They’re still just as furious. I wonder if the fury is mixed in with the mortar.
It seems to me that Jesus had no special animosity against the religious building–he healed Jairus’ daughter for example, and was kind to the Roman leader whom the people said had built their synagogue for them–but Jesus wasn’t about to place membership.
It’s hard to say exactly what it is that causes those buildings to force Jesus out, but my personal and vicarious experiences all validate the story played out with Jesus in all the gospels. Walls keep God out, not in.
Hi Steve, thanks for your comment.
I share your disdain for religious “controllers” etc, but I’m not sure how the building makes those things happen. That is to say, I don’t think buildings cause people to be furious with God. You seem to be indicating that as soon as any group decides to set apart space to worship, they automatically force God out of their building and their lives. I don’t see how this could be true, and just as your “personal and vicarious” experiences validate your view, I can point to some of my own experiences that lean in the other direction.
The problem you’re talking about is religious control and manipulation, not physical structures, per se. I don’t see a causal corolation between the two.
Being in a church may be no different, technically speaking, to being anywhere with other Christians. But it does feel different; and that affects me. I’m more likely to keep focussed on God and on what I’m doing in a church, just because the ‘atmosphere’ is different. That could be due to holy ground or my own delusions, but either way it works.
Wow, interesting topic. You know how to get discussion going, Ben. I would not have considered the alternative if you hadn’t mentioned this.
As you could guess, I personally associate the stained glass, statutes, fixed pews, etc. with religious practice of my upbringing, which is mostly void of real power (“these people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me”). So, I would be the first to go away from those kinds of buildings. Plus, now that I am very much acquainted with how much it costs to build, maintain, fix and replace all those ornate elements, I would totally find it a waste of money.
However, then I hear those who would build such things, if they could, to honor God. Then, the question is, would anything be too lavish to spend on Jesus? So, I guess I’m thinking it’s about the heart. It seems like emphasizing the people and not the place is a pendulum swing away from the over-focus much of the church has had on the buildings, relics, etc. I don’t think that’s altogether unhealthy. I think Martin Luther wasn’t totally against relics and such, but just wanted them used with the right heart and in faith. They are never to be the object of worship or source of religious pride.
Of course, Christians need a place to meet; and if there’s a lot of us, then more than a home is required. So then, how that space is used demonstrates the heart of those in charge of it. I would say that would depend on the neighborhood, the needs, and the goal. If folks want to put in pretty windows, banners, pictures to honor God and express His joy, then that’s great. Again, it’s just where that gets to be more of the focus, then it’s off. If it leads us to God, great. If it’s just a dead ritual or becomes too important, then it has to be “see you later” to whatever it is.
Yeah, Peter, I’m right there with you. I think in the “pendulum swing” away from ornate buildings, etc., the church fallen into a bad habit of ugliness in our worship spaces. Of course we want to consider the stewardship implications, but we also should consider the aesthetic and theological implications. I’ve said before that ultimately an ugly worship space (when money would allow for something at least a little more beautiful) points to a gnostic theology that doesn’t recognize God’s presence in creation or physicality (no wonder charismatics close their eyes when they worship – the space looks too hideous to keep them open!)…
That’s ultimately what I’d love to find for our new service – a place of simple beauty, one that could draw people toward God effortlessly, one that makes sense for the neighborhood and the culture.
Ben,
Regarding your response to me–you’re right.
Godspeed.