As New Covenant believers, it is easy to consider our present places of worship, ministry, and living as temporary and even fruitless investments. Architecture is often viewed as a distraction from the real business of heaven. Besides the often monumental costs of maintaining facilities, the investment in material spaces may seem too worldly. Throughout the history of the church, there has been a constant struggle between these two extremes: establishing too many earthly roots on the one hand or living only for heaven on the other hand. This conflict is plainly seen in the first century heresy of Gnosticism, where disembodied and esoteric “spiritual knowledge” was celebrated, whereas the importance of the material world was diminished or denied. The incarnation, however, is a powerful reminder that the material world matters to God. Jesus did not condemn creation; instead, the Son of Man was a carpenter who understood life in “flesh and blood” terms. He fed the hungry, healed the sick, feasted with friends, and suffered on a real, rough-hewn cross. There isn’t a dichotomy between the spiritual realm and the physical realm in God’s economy.
 
So what does this mean for architecture? By ignoring beauty in our surroundings and by not being intentional with our aesthetic vision, we are promoting a kind of “architectural Gnosticism.” This is further exacerbated by a pious desire to avoid “storing up treasures on earth.” We eschew beauty in architectural design, seeing it as unspiritual, dated, and decadent. We exchange aesthetic vision for contemporary and practical relevance. The result is that we turn our worship spaces into human-centric facilities prized for freshness, functionality, and flexibility. Apologist Francis Schaeffer often criticised the proliferation of “ugliness in evangelical church buildings,” arguing that Christianity had adopted the world’s anemic view of beauty. Our God is beautiful, and that beauty should be seen not only in our lives, our worship, and our preaching, but also in our surroundings. Christians ought to reject the pseudo-spirituality of monastic-like Spartan aesthetics; blandness is not biblical. Bland buildings, bland worship, and bland preaching show the watching world that our God is bland. He is no such thing! Blandness and mediocrity are the opposite of who God is and what God is calling us to. God is excellent in every way, in his character, his creation, and his Word. Why would he expect anything less from us?

God is also interested in sanctifying us fully—in mind, soul, and body—and he does this through countless means at his disposal. Since we are creatures of time and space, our environment impacts and shapes us. Attractive and meaningful meeting halls can be as inspiring as attractive and meaningful worship music. High ceilings, well-crafted woodwork, effective use of natural light, symbolic artwork, and other architectural features can awaken us to the wonder of God and his ways. If we are going to resist architectural Gnosticism, then God’s truth, beauty, and goodness should be seen in our buildings and interior designs. Beautiful spaces should represent and surround the Living Church. Though there is an even better place being prepared for us in glory, this does not preclude the need to be faithful stewards of our earthly resources here and now. This may not mean that we need to build new church buildings; it could mean that we need to better care for existing buildings, reclaiming older structures and meeting halls from dying denominations and dwindling congregations, both for the gospel and for the glory of God. ​

Architecture isn’t just about designing functional buildings and living spaces; as Christian architect Daniel Lee argues, architecture also serves “an artistic and civic role, expressing through metaphor and symbol the nature of the institutions contained within its walls.” Architecture, then, not only shapes and defines the physical landscape of communities, it also expresses and shapes what the designers and builders value most. Looking at contemporary church buildings, what do Christians value? What statements are we making to the watching world about the truth, beauty, and goodness of our glorious God and his beloved people?

In the Old Covenant, the architectural design of the Tabernacle (Exodus 25:9) and Temple (1 Kings 6:1-14) were rich in metaphor and symbolic significance because these physical spaces were central to worshipping God. What about architecture in the New Covenant? The word “church” rightly refers to the people not the building. Peter describes Christians as “living stones” that are being “built up as a spiritual house” (1 Peter 2:5). The Temple is no longer a place but a people. Nevertheless, across 2000 years of church history, congregations have invested considerable time and resources into building aesthetically pleasing and symbolically significant meeting places for worship, ministry, and fellowship. Various buildings and structures have served the saints: during the early church and the middle ages Christians met secretly in homes, businesses, caves, catacombs, and later they met publically in basilicas, and cathedrals; more recently in our own time, the faithful meet in steepled-structures, civic halls, open-air tents, barns, pubs, theatres, gymnasia, schools, cinemas, arenas, and multi-use facilities. Even though it matters more to be “living stones,” it’s clear that brick and mortar still matter. This is because human beings are creatures of space as well as mind and spirit. Our surrounding environments impact us spiritually and mentally as well as physically because they say something to us and about us. For example, when the Reformers moved the pulpit to the “front and centre” of the meeting halls, it sent a message that preaching the Word must be at the “front and centre” of worship. Acoustic designs and layout of sanctuaries also facilitated not only the sound of sermons but also congregational singing. Today, as many congregations focus on professional worship bands and high quality music, preachers often speak from a portable music stand surrounded by amps, drum kits, and propped guitars. This is not a criticism but a reminder that our physical spaces both express and shape what we value. Likewise, it should not be a surprise that our consumerist culture has produced church buildings that resemble shopping malls and community rec centres. It is also no surprise that a culture that disdains the past would leave older church buildings to deteriorate or be converted into condominiums, wedding venues, restaurants, or mere relics of the past. Sadly, to permit older church buildings to deteriorate or be repurposed may send the message that the “old gospel story” is as out-of-date as the half-empty and moldering buildings themselves.