STEWARDSHIP AND OLD CHURCHES

This article refers specifically to churches, but its point applies to all religious buildings.

Who hasn't marvelled at New England's wonderful body of church architecture--buildings spanning far back into our past, all built to be suitable places in which to worship the Creator of Everything. The best of them are works of architectural art, and worthy of respect and preservation in their own right.

But, as anyone charged with the upkeep and maintenance of these buildings knows only too well, the very qualities that make them so wonderful also make them expensive to operate and maintain. Not only are they expensive, money spent caring for them is money diverted from the church's primary mission of easing human suffering. This leads to a difficult issue of stewardship:

If people are starving and homeless in this world, is it not indulgent and--to use an unfashionanble old word--sinful to spend money on a mere building? Especially on a church building? I am neither a theologian nor sinless, which leaves me in an awkward position to prescribe in this matter. And as a professed Christian, I can't even offer a sound rebuttal to that question.

I can, however, offer some ideas why, despite that question, it might be wise--and even good stewardship--for a religious congregation to devote more care (and money) to its buildings.

First, there is the philosophical argument: Churches traditionally are erected not just to provide a place out of the weather in which worshippers can gather, but also to show, in some way, the glory of the One who is being worshipped. They are, in this sense, symbolic ceremonial vessels. As such, it is appropriate to care for them with respect. This respect needn't necessarily be restricted to the buildings of the liturgically ornate denominations--a simple Quaker meeting house speaks as eloquently of its builders' idea of God's house as the most elaborate Eastern Orthodox church does of its.

A more pragmatic reason for spending more, rather than less, money on a church building is the paradoxical one that in the long run, it is likely to be better stewardship of the congregation's overall resources. When a congregation attempts to spend the minimum possible on its buildings, the only thing that ceases to happen is planning and major maintenance; the natural aging and weathering processes continue unabated. Sooner or later the bill for this neglect will come due: the roof develops leaks, the boiler fails, or the steeple drops a piece of ornament onto the sidewalk.

The nature of the emergency (worship space uninhabitably cold, water coming through the roof, and so on) typically causes secondary damage, and exerts great pressure for the swiftest possible resolution.

Great and distracting demands are made on everyone's goodwill, energy, and pocketbooks. An ad-hoc committee is formed to deal with the emergency, and the rest of the parish pitches in to raise the necessary money. In the midst of all this excitement, no one has time to consider that the whole affair is a colossal band-aid; that other situations are still slowly ripening toward crises, and that no one is doing anything substantial to identify them or to head them off. And once the emergency is over, everyone is too busy recovering from the disaster to want to think any more about the building.

This is tragically unfortunate. One thing I believe from many years of working with old and antique buildings is that given the opportunity, every old building can and will bankrupt its owner.

This principle holds true for all building types and owners, including churches. The only defense available to a poor building owner is information: