The church in which I grew up dates back to the 19th Century. Its exterior is stone. The Parish Hall, adjacently attached in the 20th Century, is built of cement, no doubt from the local cement plant. It has a high ceiling and an old bell tower. Walking through the heavy red doors, one is greeted to dark woods and red-carpeted stairs taking you up into the back of the church. The interior possess that same dark wood, against white walls, with a pale blue ceiling with gold-colored designs and hanging chandeliers. Behind the high altar is a large stained-glassed window. On your left (the north side of the building), are four depictions of Jesus, from birth until his final week, each depicted in a stained-glass window. On the right side are saints, including St. George slaying a dragon. The set up was clearly designed for morning prayer as the pews, made of the same dark wood face east and the altar, the choir sits antiphonally (facing each other) in the front, with a small chancel with an altar rail. There is also a high, ornate pulpit, again, made of the same dark wood.
The church in which I am currently serving dates back to the 1960s. Its exterior is made of concrete, with a much lower sightline and a memorial garden on the entrance side. Walking through the glass doors on the side of the building, one is greeted to up-directed lighting and a few hallways. To the right is the sanctuary. The walls are insulated with drywall, painted white; the pews and ceiling are made from a medium wood; and the room is carpeted in beige. The front wall is composed of naturally-shaped stones, cemented in place, and a faux iron is used for an altar rail and altar candles, set up for morning office. A wooden crucifix centers the eye and 60’s style modern art stained glass adorn the two sides of the space.
The difference in colors and building materials no doubt affect the way one worships in these two spaces. The former represents the “traditional” or the “old” church and the latter represents the “modern” or the “new” church. Generally, I think this an inaccurate means of describing these spaces, when one calls something more than 40 years old “new,” but no matter.
But notice some of the differences in the two structures, beyond style:
- Building materials. One of the obvious differences is in the material in which the church was constructed. Modern building methods have made building a church cheaper and more efficient.
- Appearance. Not only are the materials different, but no attempt to replicate the appearance of the materials was made—no fake stone or decorative blocks are used to ornament the new church. Also, the dark appearance of the wood, traveling up the walls was not replicated with a cheap alternative—it was replaced simply by bare walls.
- Color. The dark reds, popping off of the door and carpet of the “old” church, are replaced with a more soothing beige. The lighter wood used in the chancel and on the pews in the “newer” church is not the contrast with the white as the dark wood is.
- Form. The “old” church has an obviously busy chancel with the addition of the choir and organ console and small altar space. In the “old” church, the high altar is preserved, though the altar itself has been pulled forward. The “newer” church, sporting a stone altar, is in the same position, several feet from the front, east-facing wall. The orientation of the “newer” and “old” churches are also identical.
What I also notice about these two churches is something surprising: not just what is different, but what has been “given up”.
The 19th Century church was built lavishly to glorify God.
The 20th Century church was built efficiently to demonstrate stewardship of church resources.
The 19th Century church was built with a striking appearance.
The 20th Century church was built with a soothing appearance.
The exterior of the 19th Century church was unmistakable.
The exterior of the 20th Century church was unremarkable.
There were such drastic differences, and yet, so much stays the same. There are some serious elements that have remained common practice:
- Orientation toward the front.
- A raised, pointed ceiling.
- Separate pulpit and lectern.
- An altar at the “front” of the church.
- A pipe organ.
- A small baptismal font, tucked off to the side.
So here is my prevailing question: what if we got rid of the wrong stuff? What if, in building our cheaper, more efficient church, we tossed out the types of things that were essential to our worship, while preserving the very things that are in greater need of an update? What if we made a great, big mistake?
It is my current hypothesis that one of the prevailing reasons many of our older members fear change in church is that they perceive that their church has already changed. And I don’t mean changed a little bit—I mean drastically. Many of our older members, who attended churches in their childhood before the 1960s, have already given something up to attend a church built in the 1960s. They have given up the dark colors and the rich textures. They have given up a building that screams to them “I stand here as a church!” and instead attend a non-descript building that whispers “come see our little worship place.” To invite these people to make more changes is inviting a devastation of psychic proportions.
I also can’t help but wonder about the developing theology of the time. The ’79 Prayer Book represented a theology that was prevailing well before its adoption. When these churches were built in the 1960s, they were built in the midst of dramatically changed theology and expectations. Many of these expectations would not be realized architecturally until after many of the more staid 1960s churches were completed.
Look at the list of things that stayed the same. Which ones shouldn’t? Shouldn’t we reconfigure our seating arrangement and the placement of our altar and baptismal font to better match our theology? Would it help to see these as positive changes in the midst of a different environment?
As I said in the opening, I was raised in what I called an “old” church. Now, when I find myself in a church built before the 20th Century, I feel it: that sense of “the other”. I don’t feel the same way about many churches built in the 20th Century—especially in the 1960s. What caused me to think about this was pictures of old English churches that have been updated. In one, the pews were taken out and replaced by a great labyrinth in the stone floor. The beauty found in this old church was mixed with an even older method of prayer to affect a new environment. The people worshipping in this space were young and relatively unchurched. To them, this building was clearly a church yet, it was progressive—it looked fresh and invited them in.
So, what does this mean for your church?