In Praise of the Church Building

Our church met for several years in a small strip mall tucked in behind the city’s post office on a not very busy street. It felt like we were hidden from the world. If you wanted to attend our church, you would have to come looking for us. Eventually we rented three of the office spaces in that little strip mall, and made the space work as best we could. The classrooms were usually too small, the air conditioning had trouble cooling that many people, and there was no “yard” outside where the kids could play.

We were cramped, but we were happy. The tight space brought us close together during breakfast on Sunday mornings; people had to stand and eat elbow to elbow. You can’t hide in a space like that. You cannot remain anonymous.

After several years, we saved up enough money to build a place of our own. By every measurement you can imagine, our new facility is superior. It is larger. It is on a very visible street. We have a huge yard and a fantastic playground. The sound system is better. My office is fantastic.

I worried that this comfortable building with its larger size and better amenities would diminish some of the fellowship the smaller, poorer building forced upon us.

I admit that I experienced some trepidation as we moved to our newer, bigger, and better place. I worried that this comfortable building with its larger size and better amenities would diminish some of the fellowship the smaller, poorer building forced upon us. I feared that we would get a different “kind” of visitor. Here in the heart of the Bible Belt cultural Christianity is a real challenge. When we met in a strip mall, we usually got visitors who had researched us, and only those visitors who really enjoyed our fellowship were going to stay. Frankly, we didn’t have much else to offer. Other churches had nicer buildings, more space, more money, better nurseries, nicer bathrooms, and better parking spaces.

Now, I feared folks might come and stay just because the place is nice. I feared that our congregation would change. We were united, in some ways, by the inconveniences that we endured and by the shared hope that one day we would have a better place. Now we have that place. Would our newer and better building give us a sense of “arrived,” or would we continue to be the outreaching, welcoming church that I believed we had always been? Our new building has certainly affected our congregation. We have grown, and for that, I am grateful to God. Because of our location, people have heard of us who would never have known about us before. Our place is nice enough for people to be comfortable, and our congregation is excited at the blessing that our building represents.

“The church isn’t a building; the church is God’s people!” I understand what people mean by this exhortation, and I agree, but I also believe in the value of a church building.

Sometimes I miss the early days of that little building. I miss being crammed in there and laughing about it with the rest of the congregation. I miss it sort of like a couple might miss the early days of their marriage when money was tight, the apartment was small, but new love and joy of unity made all those things bearable, even pleasant.

I remember crafting my future son’s new crib. My wife and I were delighted to be having a child, but we were also afraid. Were we ready for this? Could we handle the responsibility for caring for this little, helpless person? Many think of church growth as the primary goal of ministry. Our building may be a sign of health and joy, but I’ve spent many nights worrying about how this building will change our dynamic, how we will respond to those who visit, and how we will provide for the needs of all those we will find ourselves responsible for. I think we are as ready as we can be. We have talked about those we hope will be helped here. We have prayed for them. We will have coffee and meals here. We will laugh here. We will cry here. We will raise our children here. We will learn to love here. This building is more than “just a building.” For our local church family, this building is our home.

Brad Williams is pastor of New Covenant Baptist Church in Albertville, Alabama.