You've heard the story of a coastline where there were many shipwrecks. Some locals formed a rescue mission, bought a boat, and got trained to save shipwrecked people. They did it very well for a while, but decided they needed a shed to house the boat; then a place where they could wait on stormy nights for distress signals. But the place ought to have some facilities for meals, and entertainment to while away the lonely hours. Then it needed committees to run all its activities, and soon - you guessed it - they lost their original purpose. A 'reform group' said 'ain't it awful these people wasting money on themselves when they should have been saving lives?' formed a new society, bought a boat, built a shed, then a clubhouse... Then another reform group said 'Ain't it awful....?' And so on.

Should churches have buildings? Alcoholics Anonymous doesn't, to prevent institutionalisation, and to remind members of their central message and mission.

God's human creatures, whether in biological or church families seem to need a place to call their own. Australians have the highest per-capita home ownership in the Western world. A quarter-acre block and fully-owned house is a goal most of us work hard for (and if parliamentarians don't do something about escalating interest rates they may have to look for another job after the next election). People who belong to clubs soon seem to need a special building. I heard recently of a golf club in England with a club house but no golf course, a bicycle club in the Himalayas with no bicycles, a cricket club in Philadelphia where you couldn't play cricket!

All religions have sacred places and/or buildings. The Greeks expressed their insinct for worship in the Parthenon; the Romans built the Pantheon. Ancient Egyptian temples resembled the human body (with two entrances - feet - positioned non-symmetrically to resemble walking). So sacred was the holy of holies that the Pharaoh alone could go in. Chains were attached to him so that if he fainted or died, and the chains ceased rattling, he could be pulled out by his legs!

People in the Judeo-Christian tradition have had their 'holy places' too. The Israelites' portable tabernacle (Exodus 35 through 39) was a graphic image of their nomadism; it housed the tablets of the law, and its Holy of Holies was a striking reminder of God's 'otherness'. Later the more affluent, settled Judaism created a magnificent temple to honour Yahweh.

God-worshippers from biblical times have also had sacred mountains. In Seoul, Korea, I attended a 'prayer mountain' where there are always people fasting and praying. At a sacred mountain in the Papua New Guinea highlands we entered through a special gate and paused for reverent prayer. I could tell my dark-skinned guide treated this mountain with respectful awe. God was there in a unique way.

Christian buildings have an interesting history. The early Christians had no formal worship spaces for three centuries. A temple made of stone had been replaced by a church made of people. They met in homes, public halls, hidden rooms or in open places. Many denominations and sects begin this way: the younger the group, the simpler the architecture. When Constantine legitimized Christianity throughout the Roman Empire, Christians started to build symbolic homes for God, whose Son had no place to lay his head. They became more and more ornate, culminating in the great medieval cathedrals.

Those cathedrals had no pews; the people milled about during worship. The space was used for many purposes during the week: market sales, evening plays, town meetings, shelter for wayfaring shepherds and their sheep. Are they now anachronisms evoking a musty past no longer relevant to our times? Maybe, for some. But they also speak about the Infinite, about our history, about the Source of all beauty; and they are witnesses, as John Ruskin put it, to our joy in work and a rugged independence. These massive structures symbolize the majesty of God; and often these days they are not merely a shelter for the faithful few, but have become centres of reconciliation, service stations for community events, and places where the 'anonymous' can hear the gospel.

However the Reformers designed their church-buildings differently, moving both the pulpit and communion table out of the chancel and into the nave, where the people were. At first they had no pews either; people would cluster around the pulpit to hear the sermon or the table to receive communion. Later, in the 18th and 19th centuries, with a Protestant accent more upon 'performance' of clergy and musicians, pews became standard furniture. Congregations became spectators rather than participators.

Now is this need for a 'sacred place' inherent in our creation or our fallenness? I think both. The provision of a specific 'garden' for our fore-parents is an indication of the way we're made. Then sin is punished by 'displacement'. So we are pilgrims: this earth is not our final home. Our principle residence is the 'Kingdom of God'; our security is in our relationship with the Lord, not to a part of the planet which one day will be no more!

But in the meantime we need buildings to keep the wind, rain and sun out while we remind ourselves of these realities. But they are more than that: our architecture 'preaches' the gospel too. We are aesthetic beings, and our surroundings reinforce or contradict what we say. Buildings are more than a functional necessity.

And they can take up a lot of our money and time. Large city church-buildings once housed thriving congregations; now they're too big and too expensive. Newly established outer-urban congregations put all their efforts into a building programme, after which they plan to 'concentrate on reaching out': but they become institutionalized, and the reaching out doesn't happen.

So, first, discover your mission

'Form follows function', 'theology precedes architecture', what you believe determines what you create, so think before you build! It's absolutely vital your church figures out what it's trying to do in the world before you spend a dollar on buildings. Different churches will have different emphases. Is our main goal to reach families, or disadvantaged youth, or professional people, or 'yuppies' and adult singles, or be a haven for sophisticates wanting ancient liturgies - or what? You'll build a different facility for each of these target-groups.

Then work out your goals, and set specific objectives (see chapter ): how will hiring staff relate to building expenditure and giving to foreign missions? (In my view, generally you continue to do all three). For example during a major building programme you may have a part-time youth staffer, but later move to a full-time appointment. If youth ministry is important to the church, they'll need a den and other rooms to call their own. The youth leader/s will need easy-to-find offices which are open nights and weekends.

Centrality vs. linear worship

Back to a theology of worship, in the main meeting-area, what are we essentially doing? Is it to be an auditorium where preacher and choir perform as a sort of permanent cast to a passive audience in the pews? No, when we worship, the people, the pastor and choir are together before God doing the same thing. The whole church is a 'priesthood'.

So seats should be in a semi-circle, U-shape, or circle rather than in stiff rows like seats in a public conveyance (whoever heard of family-members not facing each other?). If your church-sanctuary seats fewer than 500, and is shaped like a tram-car, look seriously at options to put the pulpit against the middle of one of the long walls, and arrange seating so that the furthest person is less than about 50 feet away. There'll be problems if the sacred architecture (or your people's ideas) are very fixed, or your building faces north south east or west for a special liturgical reason.

More importantly if 'church' is like an old theatre what does that say about our theology of worship? Surely that it's mostly watching a performance 'up front'. But that's not what real worship is all about. Our seating 'preaches the gospel' - a gospel of togetherness, the church as family, the nature of the Body of Christ. As one writer puts it, 'The linear church worshipper makes the long pilgrimage - on foot or with the eye - to the mysterious Presence at the front. By contrast, the circular concept of worship portrays it as a community affair with the worshippers' shared experiences of God of central significance.' (Nancy Barcus, 'Saving Energy Dollars by Design', Christianity Today, August 8, 1980, p.22 [892]).

If your church believes in the centrality of the Word of God and the sacraments then the pulpit, table and font or baptistry will be placed in a visually balanced arrangement against an undistracting background. Put musical instruments, flags, banners, and flowers elsewhere. Another ancient custom is to place the baptistry or font near the sanctuary entrance, a reminder that the entrance to the Church is through the washing away of sin. (Richard A. Smits, 'The Gospel and Architecture', Christianity Today, April 23, 1976, p.772).

If the musical instruments and choir are too prominent, what does that say about worship? They are there essentially to assist worship, rather than give performances. A noted cathedral organist\choirmaster said, 'If the congregation goes away saying "wasn't the music wonderful?" the music has failed.' A case could be made for the choir to be physically part of the congregation (or, in some traditions, in the balcony at the back, or in others, arranged antiphonally in the chancel).

How much should we spend?

Should the main area be multi-functional, or a sanctuary where only corporate worship takes place? If worship is all of life lived under our Lord's authority then proclamation, devotion, learning, service, social justice and fellowship are all part of worship. While each of these can stand on its own, none is complete without the other. Hence buildings that have isolated devotion in one structure from learning in another, with hospitality in a third, and maybe with service to the community or social justice issues ignored, are heretical buildings. These buildings make it easier to divorce devotional worship from worship-as-serving, and tend to reinforce our hypocrisies. 'We shape our dwellings,' said Winston Churchill, 'and afterwards our dwellings shape us.' Our church building should be less like a fortress and more like an open place. The architecture should suggest openness to the world and symbolize outreach to the community. If we are to be true to the Old and New Testaments, we need to build a temple made with hands that fully expresses worship in a temple not made with hands. Among the New Testament concepts architecture should communicate are openness, equality, and approachability. The buildings should say 'This is a place to come up from the world and to go out into the world.' (William Hull, 'Biblical Architecture', Australian Baptist, Feb. 8, 1989, p.16). So I would argue, on theological grounds, for flexible, multi-purpose buildings.

And, of course, it's obviously cheaper to have the same space used for children's clubs, seniors' drop-in centres, Thursday night Bible School etc. during the week, and devotional worship on Sunday. There's the bother of moving chairs, of ball-marks on the roof, and of noisy associations with that area when you want people to be quiet. Against that is the question of economy in a world of need: how do we explain to Jesus who is starving, the expense of a sanctuary used only perhaps an hour or two a week, and the occasional wedding or funeral? People who work among the poor, anywhere in the world, are generally unanimous about their preference! (And something in our worship-area should constantly remind us of the poor: perhaps a banner, or special window).

A cleric-architect writes: 'In the future, the worship room will not be called a sanctuary, implying its separation from contact with the world... but a meeting room where God is present with his people. The sacrality of such a place will be derived not from relics, nor nostalgia, nor extravagant expense, but from the helpfulness of the host people to their neighbours.' Such space should be 'more wholesome than precious, more expressive than impressive, more hospitable than imposing...' (James L. Doom, quoted by Willmar L, Thorkelson, 'Integrated Buildings', Christianity Today, July 6, 1973, page unknown).

Plan carefully

When should you build? Build if your people want to provide higher visibility in their neighbourhood; when you can't find a facility you'd be happy renting forever (or is without a water-tight guarantee of future availability); when the meeting-place you own is 80% full, and you have already divided into two or three morning services.

Relocation is an option if prospects of growth are much brighter than possibilities of expansion where you are. These days, it doesn't matter too much if you're further away from people's homes. Americans tell us a 20-minute drive 'to church' is not at all unusual when people are committed to their congregation and everyone owns a car.

'The more limited the resources, the more planning that is needed. But the more planning that is done, the less expensive the work. Careful planning costs much less than haphazard building' (Richard J. Nielson, 'Church Renovation: Form Follows Function', Christian Ministry, September 1986, p.22)

The vision for a building often begins with an individual. A small leadership group ought to think through the scheme informally, before presenting the idea to the Parish Council or diaconate/elders. Don't rush this process. Bathe the idea in prayer. Then involve the whole church: don't present them with a fait accompli. Allow room for ideas and suggestions from anyone. Consult when the timing is right with an outside ecclesiastical authority if your constitution requires that. Expect some opposition: from people whose family-members were baptized, married or buried from the former building; from a few who have gripes about the church quite unrelated to buildings, but who will use this occasion to air them; and from infrequent attenders, some of whom may belong to one or other of those other two groups. (Perhaps if re-location is an option, none of those in the groups mentioned above should be on the feasibility task-force). Choose your architect carefully: he or she should have some experience with churches. The architect should become very familiar with your church's ethos. Visit other churches to learn from their experience. Prepare an easy-to-read rough plan, perhaps in a brochure, and circulate widely. Later, when consensus is reached, you may display a model of the new project.

The building committee will have to work very hard. The finance committee will understand that many quotes will be underestimates. Ask all sorts of questions all the time: is the dais high enough? Are those partitions really sound-proof? Imagine yourself in the new structure, and feel the effects. Which are the most important rooms to get right? (According to Lyle Schaller, they are the creche, women's toilet, and main meeting room - in that order. They're the places which will drive customers away if they're not done right).

The research (ethology) suggests that crowding, personal space, privacy etc. exhibit wide individual, cultural and situational differences.

Big is not always bad. Neither is it always the most expensive. Large buildings often cost less per person accommodated than smaller ones.

I asked a pastor whether his church membership reflected the constituency of his neighbourhood. He said 'No, only a quarter of them'. Three quarters of his 'parish' were middle- to upper-middle class, one quarter lived in a working-class part of his suburb. But all his church members were from that blue-collar 25%. Why? After a bit of investigation it became obvious: the church buildings had the sort of simple style acceptable to a working-class clientele, but not to middle-class people. That's OK if the church decides to be a working-class church (and there aren't enough of those). But this church just hadn't thought about it in these terms. Then again, if their church buildings were too 'posh' would those unskilled people feel at home in them? Think before you build!

Spend enough to make your buildings as attractive as the locals will admire; not so ornate that people will wonder about the extravagance; and nothing that looks like a cheap barn. And make sure the landscaping and gardens are nice!

The initial expense of land is a major factor these days. There may be a case for buying property after new suburbs/towns are occupied (planned-town residents do not 'feel ownership' of church facilities someone else has built for them). However, costs then become so prohibitive, the best land is no longer available and in any case within five years most of the worshippers will have come after the initial land was acquired and the building built. The only answer for most denominations is to get help from individuals, businesses and established churches to buy tracts of land before the major work of subdivision begins.

Saving Costs

First, explore the resources available to you through your denomination.

Get professional consultancy help - particularly architects. You lose in the long run if you try to do that sort of thing without the experts. Some Christian architects or plan-drawers will do it for a reduced fee, unless they are members of your church, in which case they may offer their services at a greatly reduced rate. Don't necessarily expect your own professionals to donate their time for free: that's an individual matter.

Volunteers can do a lot of the unskilled work: painting, cleaning, repairing, renovating etc. Make sure they are organized by an easy-going foreman, as the process can be frustrating!

There are groups of skilled handymen\builders who will put up a church building in two days, or a week. If a young congregation, why not ask an established church to help in this way? In Australia an organization called 'Mobile Mission Maintenance' will donate time and building skills to churches and Christian organizations.

Most congregations have to relocate during major building construction - to a school, or to another church building for services at a different time, or to a Seventh-day Adventist church, whose buildings are empty most Sundays! If possible, make the period of dislocation as brief as possible: people lose heart if the process is too protracted. (The year we at Blackburn relocated to a school during our building programme was the only year we did not experience a net numerical growth).

Other considerations.

Seats should ideally be in rows of four or five (so that the end persons can turn inwards for small group encounters). They should be comfortable enough for your bodies to protest only rarely, but not too comfortable. In smaller churches especially they should be moveable and stackable.

Who should decide matters of colour and decor? Never a church meeting, and rarely a church committee! Why not ask three people whose homes would match the style you might want, and leave the whole thing to them?

Your buildings should have some connection with the past, particularly if you're an older church re-locating. This can be done with a special window or plaque: the past is past, but don't leave it forgotten altogether!

Let us avoid aesthetic barrenness: Christianity isn't abstract and cold, but a religion of the senses. Some church rooms are indistinguishable from a room in a secular business. Let us encourage more picture language and symbolism. Flowers and banners express the joy of our faith , (but don't let them outshout what the total building silently proclaims). One authority writes: 'We can't believably contend that Christianity is for contemporary people from behind false fronts of imitated historical styles. We can't preach the genuineness of the Christian faith from within buildings that display imitation stone, imitation stained glass, imitation wood, and imitation plants. Nor can we profess our concern for the plight of the world from interiors whose emphasis is on comfort or luxury. Our building must stand as a critique of the values of our age or the impact of what we preach will be diminished.' (Smits, op cit, p.[773], 21). So materials will be chosen with respect for the inherent value of natural, common things, and with attention to excellent craftsmanship. And why should everything be beautiful? For the same reason the Creator delighted in making birds with beautiful plumage, butterflies with gorgeous markings, and people who in their essence remind us of Him.

God does not inhabit empty buildings. His habitation is human lives. God is in our church buildings because we are there. You don't 'go to church', you are the church! However our buildings preach too. So next Sunday as you sit in your pew before the service begins look around you. Look at the pews, the windows, the sacred furniture, the colours, lighting, the cleanliness, the attitudes of others as they enter: they're all broadcasting about God and what we think of him. What are those messages?

******

Discuss: Talk about this church architect's check-list: (1) Membership: current, 10 years' time, adherents, families, average age, times of services, average attendance at each. (2) Church building: nave/auditorium: communion table, pulpit - adjustable height, place for books/papers, glass of water, font\baptistry, lectern, pastor's and elders'\deacons' seats - number and type, pews - seating capacity, hymn books, communion glasses, footrests, kneelers, focal point of main sanctuary, good people circulation, ease of entry and egress, overflow seating, processionals and recessionals, festive pageants and anniversaries, weddings, funerals, flower stands, hymn boards, signs, symbols, overhead projector\film screens, projection\recording room, P\A system - sufficient microphones and jacks all over building, hearing aids\loop, link to cry room, intercommunication between vestibule, organist and pastor. (3) Choir and instrument\s: location, choir membership, how many choirs? type of organ, console location, organist\choirmaster or separate choirmaster, organ chamber size and location\s, piano, band\orchestra, choir room - rehearsal, robing, storage of choir robes and music. (4) Vestibule: an area large enough for everyone seated in auditorium to stand and talk, coat-hanging space, umbrellas, rest rooms (out of earshot from auditorium), doormats, bookstall\ book table, guest book, hymnbook storage and shelving, bulletin board, letter rack, booklet rack, switchboard. (5) Vestry: desk, closet for clothing\vestments, basin and mirror, toilet\water closet\shower, relationship to pulpit, nave, office, cabinets for storage, bookshelves. (6) Exterior: landscaping, lighting, covered entrance, pickup and discharge of passengers under covered areas, ramps etc. for disabled, traffic hazards on site, notice boards, signs, symbols. (7) Church office: reception and secretarial, counseling rooms (and confidential access), storage of supplies, fireproof storage of valuable documents, workroom - printing, photocopying, mailing (sink), rest rooms, showers, offices for staff\secretaries, meeting room. (8) Miscellaneous: heating, ventilation, air conditioning (all quiet), lighting (natural and electric: not too hot), acoustics (high ceilings), television and radio braodcasting.

Discuss further: (1) Are the church buildings meant to be a 'base of operations' or a 'field of operations'? (2) What impact do you think your buildings and grounds have on your neighbours? Are they more or less attractive than the average home in your neighbourhood? (3) What do they say about your theology of worship and fellowship? (4) Are seating and parking at any of your Sunday Services more than 80% full? If so, you're beginning to lose people. What's your plan? (5) How energy-efficient are they? (All energy questions are really about heating, cooling and lighting). How are your buildings sited in relation to wind, sound, sun and light?

Further reading: D.J. Bruggink, Christ and Architecture, C.H.Droppers, When Faith Takes Form (both recommended by Smits).