The Church: As Body and Building

Does an ideal image come to mind when you think of a church or worship space? Is it one you have experienced, or just long to experience? I have a few ideal images that I dream of. From the simplicity of an altar in a meadow, along the edge of a pond, to the 4th Street Presbyterian Church in Chicago, to a charming beachside chapel in Kauai, they all share a special trait. Although very different, and contrasting in style, these places exhibit a quality that is somehow able to lift the spirit and humble the heart. They evoke reverence. There is holiness. The holiness of beauty; beauty in thoughtfulness, restraint, symbolism, order, and storytelling.

The beauty of telling a story much bigger than mine.

As Christians, we are holy vessels by the fact the Holy Spirit Himself dwells within each of us, miraculously turning our own weak, broken bodies into temples. We no longer need a churchy building to connect with our Lord, because we are the church. Right? Yes, but I still long for a space to retreat, surrender, and be reminded of His goodness. I desire a worship space that sings its own song, tells its own story and beckons quiet reflection by its very design; a place where we are confronted with measuring our trials and pains against the greatness of God; a place that bestows an invitation to authenticity, thereby allowing our true selves to be offered to Him and one another.

Authenticity, isn’t that what it’s all about? Just me, all of Him, able to be united by the sacrifice of Jesus Christ. If this is the essence of what our worship is about, why don’t more of our new church spaces reflect it? Commonly, in the mega-church scene anyway, the emphasis of the building design isn’t on the experience created by form, natural light, and scale, but more likely it’s informed by creating a venue for performance….big performance. I don’t think I’m alone by saying I don’t need theatrics. I need Jesus. I don’t need perfectly rehearsed performances. I need to witness authentic, vulnerable hearts. Does anyone else hunger for less show, more authenticity; less square footage, more community; less scripted perfection, more vulnerability? Auditorium and sanctuary are not synonyms. One is theater, and the other is refuge. Do we want our churches to mirror our harried, loud, busy lives? Or do we need a reminder of the simple, the true, the other, selfless life we are supposed to be given to? There is no doubt that worship is defined as a condition of the heart. I’m just wondering if some of our church spaces are aiding in this condition, or tripping us up?

The written word, art, and architecture seem to be how cultures are defined by future generations. What are we saying with these theaters and hum-drum buildings? What will it say about our commitment to glorify God in all things? Consider the refinement and study that goes into designing an art museum. The handling of sunlight is crucial. Formulating a way to harness the natural light for illumination, while keeping the art protected from direct exposure, is an art in itself. Site lines, scale, and circulation are all scrutinized to define the user experience. While all of these things are given tremendous study, they are simply the back drop for something greater, the art. The museum is a blank canvas, waiting to display great pieces of sculpture, artifact and painting. We come for the art, yet our entire experience is passively influenced by our surroundings in order to have the best experience possible for viewing the pieces. When we come to church, we are also passively influenced by our surroundings. But how often is defining that passive experience a priority in modern church design? Is it being utilized to quiet our hearts and steer them toward awe and worship? How are we being pointed to something greater than us? How is He being glorified in the design?

After “ranting?” about how church spaces can be better designed to induce worship and glorify Him, I must restate that worship is a condition of the heart. Hands raised, hands lowered, eyes teary, eyes dry, standing, sitting, kneeling, or dancing, we can worship in any setting, at any time. That is the true beauty of having a personal relationship with Jesus (In America!). It does not rely on idols or ritual. We are meant to commune with Him in spirit, through prayer and meditation. We are to pass on the gifts he gives to us as service and offerings in His name, (artists, architects, and designers too). We are meant to be the church and to reflect His love out into the world. The most important job of a church is to preach God’s word in truth. That being said, churches are being dreamed of, prayed for, planned, and built at this very moment. Time, energy, and money are being spent on them, in varying proportions. Shouldn’t these structures be created to evoke our praise and awe of Him? Don’t we all want a space to visit each week that inspires us, renews us, and reflects His glory? Do you have an opportunity to help inform a new church design or renovation? Are you the voice that will stand up for faithfulness and purity?

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.

Romans 12:2

Air Force Academy's Cadet Chapel, Colorado Springs, CO Architect Walter Netsch

Photo by Keith Clark (click here for more photos)

Church of Light, Japan Architect: Tadeo Ando photo by imgkid

Sweeney Chapel, Christian Theological Seminary, Indianapolis, IN

Architect: Edward Larabee Barnes photo by Achitectural Record

A United Church of Christ, Kauai, Hawaii Architect Unknown photo by Emily Smith

RW Concrete Church Seoul, Korea Architect: Nameless Architecture

photo by rohspace

Grace Chapel, Eden Prairie, MN Architect HGA photo by HGA

Fourth Street Presbyterian Church, Chicago, IL Photo by dgrin

Fourth Street Presbyterian Church Courtyard, Chicago, IL photo by moodygoat