Our Sanctuary
Even before our August Church Chat, my thoughts were turning around a single issue, which I had already written on—now tweaked—this month: making some permanent decisions regarding the layout of the sanctuary—aka the chairs & pews issue. We’ve left it lie for a bit partly to give me some time to settle in, and for us to get to know one another. And also so we could experience the different seating scenario before making permanent decisions (one which will likely last for the next 40 years!). We’re still awaiting the arrival of several more wooden chairs like the 24 we have in the front row. Ideally, we’ll be able to Iill our worship space with those larger and more stable chairs soon. After we’ve had them in place, and everyone has been able to sit in them a couple of weeks, we’ll be able to make a more informed decision.
But that’s only a part of the rationale for moving slowly and deliberately. We need to move toward this decision with grace, humility, and prayer. After all it's not OUR church we’re making this decision for—it’s Jesus’ church. We’re merely stewards of it...and stewards who must one day give an account for our choices. So we mustn’t enter into this decision without pondering what’s actually at stake.
And that’s what’s weighing most heavily on my mind. It’s my calling to guide us by keeping us focused on what God wants of us. There are a number of resources available to aid us in making a wise decision in this regard. The one I think is most accessible is: Re-Pitching the Tent: Reordering the Church Building for Worship and Mission by Richard Giles, who is trained both as a pastor and an architect.
Rev Giles tells of witnessing the Iilming of a TV drama in a nearby town. The drama was set in 1910, so the crew had a lot of work to do to make the Main Street of the village look authentic to that period...but when they wanted to Iilm a scene in the local parish church they had to do literally nothing to make it look like the turn of the last century. To place that era more Iirmly in our minds: the Wright Brothers took their Iirst Ilight in 1903, and in 1900 most doctors still leeched patients regularly as a medical treatment. The world has changed dramatically since then...but not in many church buildings. Fortunately, that isn’t as true at FLC. But we need to insure that we don’t fossilize as many other congregations have done.
Many scholars believe we are living in the midst of the 1st generation of Americans to separate how we lay out our sanctuaries, from the theology we claim to believe. We can see many examples all around us— congregations that proclaim one thing in preaching and prayers, & something totally different in their buildings and furnishings. Church architecture preaches very loudly. We must ask: What does ours say?
Lutherans have historically prided themselves on embracing the currents of change to better carry out the work of sharing the Gospel. Martin Luther set that tone over 5 centuries ago. We must be no different.
Everything we do in worship should Ilow from what we believe theologically, and support our mission. We need to be doing this in word, deed...and architecture. We’re called to proclaim a Living God who is with us now—not an ancient God, whom we must retreat into the past to encounter.
Our Gospel message doesn’t change, but how we say it must always be relevant to our culture. It also needs to be accessible to visitors, so they can connect their lives with what’s going on in worship. This is what we must be pondering...not whether or not we personally prefer one seating choice over the other.
A century ago it might have been acceptable to seat people in straight rows and preach to them from an elevated pulpit, turning the assembled congregation into a mass of spectators while the professional clergyman did all the “work.” {Personally, I believe it was a HUGE THEOLOGICAL mistake then, but people accepted it, so practically it worked}. Brothers and sisters, that ship has sailed—all over the country. No longer are people content to show up at churches where worship has become a spectator sport...& a rather dull one at that. Parochialism is out. Participation is in.
Churches are dying all around us...especially ones clinging to the models of the past. Since 1990 the Presbyterian, UCC, & Episcopal churches have shown a decline of 1⁄2 of their membership. The ELCA has lost a 1⁄3. In the last decade on average 5,775 congregations close each year...that’s 113 per week. The median attendance in churches has dropped from 137 to 65 since 2000. The numbers are staggering. The cost of doing the “same old thing” is obvious. If churches keep doing what we’ve been dong, we’re going to keep getting what we’ve been getting...and that’s not going to end well.
Studies show when a person comes to church he/she is seeking a meaningful, personal encounter with God. They want to meet Jesus Christ. That’s a good thing...it’s how it should be. We’re returning to the spirituality that existed before the Victorian Era changed things on the church front. I mention this because what happened in the 1860’s was NEW in church history...but it’s all most us have ever known. So it SEEMS like the way we’ve always done it. In many churches it is, but it’s no longer working!
These current studies show us our way forward! We need to be creating a hospitable community where people encounter Jesus in worship. We need to return to our calling to BE the BODY of Christ—a community that lives as a priesthood of believers, who assemble as participants in the Paschal mystery.
Rev Giles says, “What kind of building we meet in, and how it is arranged and decorated for worship, will tell anyone who is interested everything they need to know about us.” (p. 79) I literally can’t tell you how many visitors have said to me in the last 4 months how open and WELCOMING our sanctuary is. Architecture preaches and that’s what ours is saying. It whispers, “You are welcome here”; “You are invited/expected to be involved in worship here”; “This is a family place, a HOME for faith to grow.”
It also speaks of movement. Pews are Iixed...screwed down, and unmovable. That says something, too. And it doesn’t really reIlect the needs and attitudes of most post-modern people (those born after 1965) or what we believe theologically. For the VAST majority of church history there wasn’t Iixed seating. Most people stood through the whole service. When seating did become more common (about 500 years ago) it was usually simple benches (in poorer parishes) or chairs in parishes that could afford them. This was because the seating was regularly removed for all sorts of reasons. Luther likely never saw a pew. Congregations in his day moved throughout the building during the service. Movement, traveling light, speaks to our ancient calling to follow Abraham—a wandering Aramean (Deut 26:5). It reminds us not to put down roots in an institution, but to follow Jesus...living in dynamic relationship with a Living God who is always up to something new, meeting the people of each successive generation where they are.
As I write this article I’m preparing thoughts on Exodus 1-2—the story of Moses’ birth. During that time any male Israelite baby born was to be put to death. Moses’ mom hid her baby for a couple months until that became unworkable, then she set him adrift on the Nile in a basket. Pharaoh’s daughter Iinds him and raises him as her own. We all probably know this story. What we don’t often consider is the terrible cost Moses’ mother was willing to pay to save her child. A cost she willingly paid to keep her baby boy alive, even knowing that she wouldn’t raise him. The idea that her sacriIice would eventually lead to the salvation of the entire nation of Israel likely never crossed her mind...but that is how the story ends.
It is a wonderful, and terrible story. It’s a story of faith, and pain, and love, and sacriIice, and wisdom. It’s a story where love of a little child outweighs everything else. It’s a story where trust in God compels an obscure woman, Jochebed, facing the cruel realities of life, gives up her precious son so he could live.
The choices before us pale in comparison. But the struggle is just as real. May we prayerfully ask God what he wants us to do with his church—not for our comfort—but for the greater glory of his Kingdom.
Pastor Derek