By Rev. Dr. Renita M. Green, Columnist
Congregations often speak about preserving “God’s house.” We raise money to pay mortgages, replace roofs, repair furnaces, install new carpet, and renovate sanctuaries. We celebrate the anniversaries of church buildings and honor those who sacrificed to build them. Those are worthy efforts. Perhaps there is another question we should ask—one that is less comfortable but far more revealing: does the current congregation deserve the building it has inherited?
Most church buildings stand because previous generations sacrificed. They worked extra jobs, held fundraisers, gave sacrificially, and invested countless hours because they believed the church would serve people they would never meet. They did not build sanctuaries simply to preserve tradition or protect family memories. They built them so future generations would have a place to encounter Christ.
The question is whether today’s congregation is honoring that sacrifice.
Church buildings are resources God has entrusted to congregations for the sake of God’s mission. Jesus taught, “To whom much is given, much will be required” (Luke 12:48). A church building is not a reward for existing. It is a resource for ministry.
If the building sits empty six days a week, is it fulfilling its purpose? If its only regular activity is serving the people who already belong to the congregation, has it become a sanctuary from the community rather than a ministry to the community? If the building is empty except for Sunday worship and the occasional committee meeting, can we honestly say the building is being used for the work of the Kingdom?
What good is a commercial kitchen that never feeds hungry families? What good is a fellowship hall that rarely welcomes lonely people? What good are classrooms that sit dark while children need tutoring, parents need support, seniors need companionship, and recovering people need a safe place to gather? Every unused room represents not merely vacant space but unrealized ministry.
If neighbors pass by every day without knowing what happens inside, the church has become invisible to the very people it was called to reach. If the congregation knows every repair the building needs but cannot name the greatest needs of the neighborhood surrounding it, something has gone terribly wrong.
Can we really ask God to bless us with funds to finance and/or fix the building while withholding the building from the people God loves? Perhaps the blessing we seek is waiting on the obedience we have postponed.
Buildings were never intended to shelter congregations from the world. They were intended to equip congregations to serve the world. Every square foot entrusted to the Church should answer a simple question: How is this space helping us love God and love our neighbors?
The building has never been the source of the Church’s power.
The people are.
More accurately, people filled with the Holy Spirit are.
Buildings matter, they just don’t matter most.
