One of my geeky hobbies is going to thrift stores to discover new books. Well, I recently uncovered a gem. Jeanne Halgren Kilde’s book, Sacred Power, Sacred Space, has been fascinating. 

(As always, we should read, like we eat chicken. Mindful of the bones. There are some things I disagree with, of course, but there have been a lot of insights.)

I’ve had a growing awareness of the impact of spaces, especially connected to religion. I, however, had not read a book that outlines the evolution of sacred spaces. So I had not fully realized the impact that those spaces have on the structure and theology of the church. I am now more convinced than ever. Spaces, seating arrangements, and the design of spaces have an unarticulated impact beyond what is acknowledged or realized. 

Religious Spaces Communicate 

As I have said elsewhere, “The medium is the message.” This phrase emphasizes that the communication channel plays a significant role in shaping how a message is perceived and understood. This concept was popularized by media theorist Marshall McLuhan, who argued that the medium by which the message is delivered influences our perceptions, thoughts, and social structures more profoundly than the information it conveys. 

The medium isn’t just a neutral container for information; it actively shapes the message and its impact. McLuhan argued that the medium’s effects are more significant than the specific content it transmits. The medium by which something is communicated is not neutral. The medium itself has an impact beyond the specific content it conveys. 

Likewise, religious spaces communicate and reinforce practical theology. This is very rarely realized and hardly ever articulated, but it’s true. “Religious spaces… do far more than simply provide the setting within which ritual takes place. They contribute in important ways to the very meaning of ritual practices and to the shape and content of religious systems themselves.”[1]

Like it or not, “Church spaces foster certain relationships and encourage certain behaviors.”[2] Buildings provide “information about the beliefs and practices of a religious group.”[3] The spaces which churches occupy are not unimportant. They are carriers of practical theology, even if unarticulated. Buildings are not benign. Even the change from pews to individual chairs has an impact.

From Simplicity to Fantastic Structures: The Wonder of the Building and Hamstringing of the Body

How and why did the church go from gathering in homes to cathedrals? And what was the impact on the church body? 

An Explanation of “Hamstringing”

The hamstring consists of five tendons in the back of a person’s knee. To be hamstrung means to sustain an injury or severing of one or more of those tendons. This severely restricts effectiveness. And this, of course, is not the design of the knee. A tendon is small and may not seem very significant. But it is. If it is hindered, your movement will be constrained. 

Churches before Constantine and cathedrals were much more domestic and organic. It was supple and oriented towards movement, quickly spreading from house to house. Now it is much more formal and institutional, and more motionless. This shift has also limited the interactions, relationships, and roles of the people within the church body. In this way, I believe Christ’s body has been crippled in some ways. A seemingly small change can have a big impact, especially over time. 

Homes

Christians first gathered in homes, in part, because that is where they had to gather. But I believe it was strategic, too. Of course, even in the New Testament, we see other locations too; outdoors, synagogues, and the Hall of Tyrannus come to mind.[4] But it was certainly the early church’s practice to meet in homes. 

Over time, homes were even remodeled or built for the purpose of hosting the church.[5] Eventually, however, structures were made known as domus ecclesiae, which means “house of the church” or “house of the assembly.” These buildings were similar to other houses but were more restricted to the purpose of hosting the gathering of the church. When people were there, they were insulated from “the intrusions of everyday concerns and thoughts.”[6]

Thus, in these early church buildings, we have a slight shift towards a sacred/secular divide. However, that’s not all. There was also a shift towards institutionalization and a clergy/laity divide.[7] In addition, there was a move from shared meals to a more ritualistic eucharistic meal, a move from more fellowship to more formal. These relational meals were crucial to the formation, theology, and beliefs of the early church.[8] 

The shift from more of a domestic space associated with household operations and a certain level of informality to a formal ecclesiastical space over a period of at least a century, not surprisingly, had certain social ramifications.[9] Sadly, “Christian space began to function to delineate and maintain distinctions of power and influence among Christians.”[10]

The early church went from gathering around a table as Jesus did with His disciples (and soon to be disciples), to listening to someone stand on some type of stage. These were some of the changes that were taking place before Constantine and the Edict of Milan. 

The shift that was beginning to happen for some from the basic equality of all the gathered believers in Christian fellowship around a shared meal,[11] to the hierarchical rules and spatial separation is a considerable one.[12] But the changes were about to get a lot more drastic.

After Constantine

Constantine launched “a building program of immense proportions. Though the exact number of churches Constantine had a hand in creating is unknown, he was involved in the construction of many of the most influential of their day.”[13] It, however, is important to realize that “The churches of Constantine transformed not only Christian architecture but Christianity itself.”[14]

The changes in where the church gathered “reflected and contributed to significant transformations in social power among Christians, helping to establish and maintain distinctions of rank.”[15]

“The purpose of the new Christian buildings was not simply to house worship rituals but to demonstrate the power of the emperor and of Christianity—in other words, these buildings were informed by clear social, political, and religious agendas. Constantine’s churches were symbols of both religious and imperial power.”[16]

The wonder of beautiful cathedrals, in many ways, hamstrung Christ’s body. People went to church to receive blessing. God was mediated not simply through Jesus the Savior, but rather through specific ecclesiastical structures. The transformative power of God went from operating every day and everywhere, to at a specific place and time. And the sacred/secular divide was fully entrenched. Instead of the priesthood of all believers, there was a formal priestly class who were available mainly in the building.[17] Eventually, instead of the good news of Jesus being in the common tongue, as it first was (Koine Greek), it was in Latin. 

Reformation was needed. It did eventually come. I think reformation is still needed. As Francis Asbury said, “At the Reformation, the reformers only beat off part of the rubbish.”

Proposal for the Future

It is certainly true that people find profound spiritual meanings in specific places, such as buildings and landscapes.[18] But what if the Lord calls us to set apart our homes and whole neighborhoods as sacred? What if we are to carry the beautiful light of God’s presence wherever we go?

Jesus didn’t go to the Temple to commune with God. But we often see Him getting away to pray (Matt. 14:13; Mk. 1:35; 14:32; Lk. 5:15-16; 6:12-13). Jesus didn’t need a special building to connect with God, and we as Jesus’ disciples don’t need one either. Jesus is our Temple, and He has made God to dwell in us by His Spirit. We take God’s presence wherever we go (1 Cor. 3:16). 

Scripture says we are to make everywhere and every moment holy. There should be no sacred/secular divide for Jesus’ saints. Whether we eat or drink or whatever we do, we are to do it all to the glory of God (1 Cor. 10:31). Our work is to be worship, our playing is to be praise. 

We are to make every moment holy. I really appreciate the book, Every Moment Holy. It gives prayers for all types of occasions in order to acknowledge that every moment can be, and should be, set apart to the Lord. Of course, this is not to say that there are not more significant and special moments than others. The moment I held my firstborn child and the moment I first saw my bride-to-be walk down the aisle stick out in my mind as special. Gathering with the church is also different than driving by myself in my car. Driving to work is not profane, although its purpose is different than gathering with the church, but they should both honor God. 

In the same way, buildings and locations are not inherently good or evil. But that is not to say that matter doesn’t matter. Material—whether block or beam, stone or steel—does matter. Material goods are good gifts from the good Creator. They must be stewarded well to God’s glory. When spaces are not set apart for God’s purposes, they can host evil. Conversely, when they are set apart for good, God brings blessing. 

So, buildings to host the church are certainly not bad. But they are also not necessary, and when employed, questions must be asked about the possible implications, communications, and stewardship ramifications of the building. 

Buildings are not inherently bad, but must be used to build up the body. We should be aware of the temptations and shaping influences of church spaces. Are they being used in alignment with the values of Jesus and the New Testament, or counter to those values? Is the building going to be leveraged for the building of the Kingdom and blessing of the local community, or be a money and time suck? 

We also need to guard against the notion that church is something we go to. Church, biblical church, is something Christians are. It is true that the church gathers to be built up, but the church is just as much the church when it scatters to bless. Church buildings can be counterproductive to that point. “A lot of our language presents and reinforces the idea that church is an event… we talk about ‘going to church’ more often than we talk about ‘being’ the church.”[19]

What About the Beauty and Art of Cathedrals? 

You might be asking, “What about the music, art, and architecture of the church? Where would the world be without the church?” I, however, don’t think that question is worded accurately. The church would have still been there all along without the unhealthy sacred/secular divide; there just wouldn’t have been that unbiblical divide. 

People sometimes ask me, “Why is the world so dark?” I think it’s due in large part to the church—the light of the world—being hidden away in a building. The Church must continue to be involved in the arts and architecture, but not cloistered in a church building. The arts, whether music, paintings, or sculptures, are not for the church building; they are for the church to love and bless the world. 

American Christians have a lot of money.[20] What if the church were a loving light and built community centers to bless their neighbors? What if more of the billions invested in buildings went to bless the world around us? We must leverage our lives and our living rooms for Jesus and His Kingdom. We certainly must leverage our resources and church buildings. 

“If you build it they will come,” is less and less true. But even if people were to come, a building is not what transforms. The Body of Christ in love and aflame with the loving truth of Jesus is. Sitting down at a table with loving people who resemble Jesus will always be more transformative than an LED wall or even AC. 

Conclusion

What if meeting in regular social and domestic spaces is significant and strategic? What if it normalizes living for the Lord all the time and helps sever the bifurcation of the secular and sacred? I propose we work toward congruence. Let’s work to kill the false dichotomy of the secular and sacred. Of course, buildings are not bad. But let’s leverage all our resources and lives for Christ’s Kingdom!

Jesus incarnated Himself. He entered the messy flesh-and-blood realities of the world and walked and talked with people. And Jesus said, “As the Father has sent me, even so I am sending you” (Jn. 20:21). We, too, are called to lovingly enter into people’s world. When Christianity is disincarnate (instead of incarnate), it is disingenuous and incongruent. When Christian witness is in a building but not embodied, it is often stale and sterile. 

I propose we move into a movement mindset. When Jesus walked the world, He didn’t hide away in the Temple. He was a walking, talking Temple, taking God to people. He went about eating and drinking. He made a movement of followers who shared the good news of Jesus where they worked, lived, and played. The Temple is on the move in the world, spreading love and light. Church is not dependent on a building; it is dependent on the Spirit. Yes, the church gathers to be built up, but it’s not dependent on a building for that. 

Notes

[1] Jeanne Halgren Kilde, Sacred Power, Sacred Space: An Introduction to Christian Architecture and Worship, 3.

[2] Kilde, Sacred Power, Sacred Space: An Introduction to Christian Architecture and Worship, 200.

[3] Kilde, Sacred Power, Sacred Space, 201.

[4] It’s hard to say if those spaces were used for the church gathering where Christians purposely came together for teaching, prayer, singing, eating, and celebration and remembrance of Jesus through the meal He gave as a reminder, or were those spaces mainly used as contexts for evangelism? We do not know for sure.

[5] Ibid., 23.

[6] Ibid., 29. “As Christian meeting spaces shifted from homes to remodeled buildings to entirely new edifices, the investment needed to provide worship facilities increased dramatically. Only with the full recognition of Christianity by the empire in the fourth century would sufficient funds be available to create monumental Christian architecture” (Kilde, Sacred Power, Sacred Space, 31). Patronage also became a bigger and bigger thing…

[7] “The physical location of service leaders, elevated on a bema or tribunal at one end of a rectilinear room, rendered the distinctions visible and helped to maintain them” (Kilde, Sacred Power, Sacred Space, 27).

[8] Hal Taussig, In the Beginning was the Meal: Social Experimentation & Early Christian Identity, 181.

[9] Ibid., 31.

[10] Ibid., 26.

[11] “A primary way first-century ‘Christians’ spent time together was at meals!. There they made decisions together about their inner workings and their relationship to the broader world. Meals were the place where they taught and learned together and where they worshipped, prayed, and sang their songs together.” (Taussig, In the Beginning Was the Meal, 21).

[12] See Kilde, Sacred Power, Sacred Space, 30.

[13] Ibid., 39-40.

[14] Ibid., 40.

[15] Ibid., 32.

[16] Ibid., 40.

[17] It is no better today. “Paralysis of much Christian worship must be acknowledged. Protestant worship is in many places still devastatingly captive of clergy leadership’s incessant talking and domination. In many places, the pastor gives long prayers and sermons, almost completely eliminating the voices and expression of the worshippers themselves” (Taussig, In the Beginning was the Meal, 194).

[18] Jeanne Halgren Kilde, Sacred Power, Sacred Space, 9.

[19] Krish Kandiah, “Church As Family,” 68.

[20] A recent study “looked at 344,894 congregations, from 236 different religious denominations (217 of them Christian, and others ranging from Shinto to Tao to Zoroastrian). Collectively, those congregations count about half the American population as members. The average annual income for a congregation, the study said, is $242,910” (Julie Zauzmer, “Study: Religion contributes more to the U.S. economy than Facebook, Google and Apple combined” [September 15, 2016]). The study found that “Americans give $74.5 billion to their congregations per year.”

*Photo by Marvin Yoder