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Tool for Evangelization and Mission
by David Philippart
Your church building is the most expensive tool for mission and evangelization that your parish has. Continue the evaluation that you began with part 1 of this article. Don't discuss it abstractly. Take this article with you and go walk around. In the first part, we examined the exterior setting of the church building. Here, we move indoors.
The Main Door
Go to the "main entrance." In many churches, the main entrance was designed to face the most important street or walkway, but because the parking lot is not near, today this entrance often is not the most used. So find the door that is really the main entrance, the one through which a majority of people enter the building for liturgy. Look at your main entrance and ask: 'What does this door suggest of Christ, who said "I am the gate to the sheepfold"?' If the de facto "main" entrance was designed as an ancillary door, what might be done to dignify it more? During the week, if this door is generally locked, how do visitors know how to enter? Think of using a tasteful sign that can be removed by the ushers when the entrance is open. (Did you know that canon law (937) requires that people have access to the church building at times throughout the day for private prayer?)
In some places where the majority of people enter a side door, a renovated gathering space funnels them into the main body of the church through a new "ceremonial" door that functions in liturgy as the main door. In many new churches, multiple (and energy efficient, if not attractive) doors lead into the large interior narthex, and then a beautiful "main door" leads all into the main body of the church. If you are ever in Santa Fe, see how this is done at the lovely Santa Maria de la Paz Church. Or if you are in Chicago or Milwaukee, take a side trip to Lake County, Illinois (between the two cities) and see the new St. Mary of the Annunciation Church in Fremont Center. The ceremonial door (between the narthex and main body of the church) is stunning -- a true treasure. As a sign of Christ, the church door is the site of many liturgical rites, too -- in the rite of acceptance into the order of catechumens, in the rite of baptism of children, and in the order of Christian funerals, for example. The door itself catechizes.
Are all entrances and interior areas accessible to people with walkers, canes or wheelchairs? Does the accessible entrance seem like it's "second-class" (hard to find, not as lovely as the others)? How can this be fixed? Once inside, can people who use wheelchairs, canes or walkers enter and exit all rooms and spaces (without help if they so choose)?
Cookie Cutter
In the first part of this article, we saw how your church building is the gift box in which God presents your church to the wider community. Your church building is also a cookie cutter; your parishioners are the dough. The room literally shapes the gathered Body of Christ. Interiors show people how to behave. A movie theater screams: "Sit! Be quiet! Watch!" Thick upholstery absorbs ambient noise. All seats face front. You sink deeply back into a seat, making communication with anyone except your immediate neighbor difficult. Lights are dim. There's no doubt about what to do here, and how.
Does your interior form your parishioners into the living Christ, or does it deform them, say, into a passive audience or a cozy self-contained club? Does the seating arrangement suggest that the church enacts the liturgy as one body -- each part with its particular function? Or does it suggest that a few enact the liturgy "up there," while the rest watch? How do you tell?
One rule of thumb is this: Can most of the members of the assembly see at least some of the faces (and not just the backs of heads) of other members of the assembly? Another is this: Is the assembly somehow gathered around God's altar and within a reasonable distance from it? (Architect Bill Beard says that within 45 feet is best, with 65 feet the maximum distance at which nonverbal communication is apprehended.) Some disparage these concerns today, and even go so far to say that when people in church see each other, we no longer worship God but are instead worship each other or "community."
Think about this claim and you will realize that it's outrageous! It's an accusation of idolatry, and it is utterly false. We no more worship each other at the expense of ignoring God than we worship any other sacred image in the room. Baptized, chrismated Christians participating in the Eucharist are living icons of the Risen Christ. As the first letter of John reminds us, "Those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen." (1 Jn 4:20)
We've taken down the literal communion rails, but inadvertently in some places we have created psychological or ambient barriers. For example, a church in Chicago -- to save energy and money -- installed fluorescent lights over the assembly, but kept all the altar spot lights incandescent. So the people sit in a less-brilliant blue light while the sanctuary is bathed in bright white incandescent light. The poor design of the lighting here has created two rooms out of one. The same unfortunate effect is achieved when more expensive materials are used around altar, ambo and chair, and cheaper materials used beneath and above and around the people's seats.
A Universal Church
And how well do art and furnishings reflect the culture(s) of your parishioners? Simultaneously, would Christians of other cultures feel welcome here, too? Our church is worldwide, and includes sinners and saints of all times and places. Look at the images of Jesus, Mary and the saints in your church building. Are they all of one race, ethnicity or gender? Can new images of saints of various races and nationalities be well integrated into the interior? Think of the saints of Africa and of Asia and of Central and South America. Remember Blessed Kateri Tekakwitha.
Don't forget about angels, either. Years ago, the liturgy director at Our Lady of Victory Church in Northville, Michigan, invested in some large folk art style angels to hang from the ceiling during the Christmas season. Wisely, he made sure that the angels were both male and female, white and black. Add some Latino and Asian angels and you are set!
And can we balance images of saintly priests and nuns with married saints, too -- like Isidore and Maria of Seville? Or Mary's parents, Ann and Joachim?
Overall, how well does the interior encourage that "full, conscious and active participation" by all the faithful that "is the aim to be considered before all else"? (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy 10, 14) Since we need beauty as well as bread, is this interior the most beautiful that we can make it?
Where All Are Welcome
If you discern the need for major improvement, contact your diocesan liturgy office. The church building is a complex symbol; to alter one part of it (without a master plan) usually results in wasted time and money. As hard as renovation is, when well-done it is worth it. The physical renewal you bring to your church of brick and board is ultimately a spiritual renewal of the church of bone and blood.
The aim of all this is not any kind of theoretical correctness, not even mere aesthetics. Your church building is the most expensive and permanent tool of mission that you have. Once constructed and outfitted, it continues to answer fundamental questions that modern men, women and children ask: Where do I find God? Who am I in relationship to God and to others? The question for pastoral leaders is, "Are we happy with the answer that our building is giving?" ML
David Philippart is a liturgist who writes and teaches about liturgical art and architecture. This article was published in an archive issue of Ministry & Liturgy magazine. Visit ministryandliturgy.com for more articles and discussions. |
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