The Process of Building and Renovating a Church

The article illustrates the importance of identifying a process for making decisions in building and renovation projects. The final product will satisfy the community’s needs only in proportion to the time spent in soliciting opinions, educating the members, and consulting experts.

Stakes are high when modifying worship patterns. The way people worship does not just reflect their beliefs—it cultivates and shapes those beliefs as well. The early church identified this mutual interaction between the liturgy and faith through reflecting on its own experience. The contemporary church is recovering the significance of this insight as it applies it to the design or redesign of a place of worship. To move ceremonial objects in a church, let alone to shift the walls or the orientation in a worship space moves sensibilities in ways that help or hinder. How do we judge what assists or obstructs? Who makes these judgments?

For eight years I have been helping communities throughout the United States build or renovate their places of worship. As a consultant, I came to each group wanting to listen to the members’ expectations about their place for prayer. As a liturgist, I responded with the best of my training, in hopes that the final product would embody informed judgments and serve generations of Christians well.

After working with diverse communities, I have noticed a pattern that deflates spirits and depletes energies. I have confirmed this pattern with my liturgical colleagues. I wondered whether it would help if someone who regularly encounters these problems could alert those who are approaching the renovation or building of a church. The situation seems parallel to offering assistance to a couple approaching marriage. How can a young couple know the potential problems if they have never been married before or have never been part of the preparations for a family member’s or friend’s wedding? The same is true for renovating or building a church. How can a parish community know the pitfalls if it has never ventured into such a project before?

There is no need to reinvent the wheel. Too often, each worshiping community takes up the task of renovating or building a church as if it has never been done before. Communities need not work in a vacuum; information is available upon which to base informed decision making.

“Never Again”

Renovating or building worship space can be like having a baby. Sometimes it is hard to know what is going on. Sometimes it just hurts. Sometimes the stirring of new life is felt along with the sense that this might work and come out all right after all. When the renovation or building comes to term, the feeling is—one hopes—that it was all worth it. Unfortunately, this is not always the case.

The quality of the product depends upon the quality of the process. If the method of approaching the renovation or building is slipshod, the end product will likely be the same. As James White put it in Introduction to Christian Worship, “The process is as important as the product—especially when it comes to the people of God collaborating around the design of their space for worship.” What good is it if Christians go for the jugular in order to build a lovely church where they can celebrate their care for God and for one another? It happens all the time. Christian, atheist, and other-than-Christian architects and engineers have told me they approach the building of a church as if they are daring to go where angels fear to tread.

Who has the ultimate decision-making power? This should be clear to all from the outset. Too often, confusion reigns in this area and various individuals or groups misconstrue their roles as deliberative rather than consultative. Will final decisions be made by the pastor or by some committee? Are there constraints (e.g., the budget) over which the local community has little or no control? Is it out of the question, for reasons beyond local control, to consider a building on the property other than the existing one? Will eventual decisions made at the local church level need additional approval from some hierarchical body within the Christian tradition? Someone needs to offer a clear lead. Presenting the method or approach for decision making clearly can help both to allay fears and to provide data for a choice to get involved. Those convening the process need to think and plan carefully before beginning. Muddling through these questions with a large group of people leaves a wake of dead bodies or, more accurately, broken spirits. To proceed intelligently, a community may need outside assistance if local leaders have little expertise in renovating or building churches. This is all the more reason to proceed with caution and not in haste.

Let Every Worshiper Speak

Before renovating or building a church, everyone who desires to pray in the new worship space ought to be invited to speak his or her mind. Whoever chooses to be part of the smaller group overseeing the project needs to develop the skills of listening to worshipers who wish to speak. No matter how kooky or strange a reflection may seem, it still needs to be received with care, even if not with agreement. It is not helpful to offer impulsive responses while listening. There is no need for immediate judgment and quick closure. If people perceive, even incorrectly, that the pastor or some select group is attempting to railroad something through, they can react as if someone is running away with a precious part of their lives. If you do not give people the time and space to voice their concerns and to sense that their perspectives are considered, you seed the project with disaster.

Caution: Some people interpret careful listening as implicit agreement with what has been spoken. In one way or another, after all, have had their chance to speak and to be heard, the pastor or project leader needs to speak and to be heard. Without becoming defensive, the leader needs to provide some direction (at least concerning method) by way of response. Leaders need to make it clear that the project will not be the result of each person having an equal voice. The process for building or renovating a church is not democratic. Many Christians in the United States find the non-democratic process difficult to accept because it is so different from other parts of their life. Following the culture in this instance, at least uncritically, does not serve a community well.

Solicit the view of each person, listen to it, and promise to take it into consideration. But do not in any way pacify people in the short term with an ambiguous response that could be misconstrued to mean “Your way will win in the end” or “If you just convince enough people (and maybe circulate a petition), then you can get your way.” The all too common dynamic of “the squeaky wheel gets the grease” breeds an unhealthy spirit of competition and, more importantly, divides a community. A building project should not be a contest of wills. However, inviting opinions about what to do with the community’s worship space is potentially explosive. The person in charge needs to be politically savvy and must be able to make clear which norms must be used when making decisions.

Knowledge of Criteria

In the end, the spectrum of opinions needs to be sifted in light of a hierarchy of criteria, the most decisive of which are liturgical. Surely there are competing values: aesthetics (what individuals consider pleasing); devotional taste (how individuals prefer to relate to God and others in the church); cultural sensibilities (what people expect because of culture and custom); ecclesial understanding (what people believe about the relationships within the church—lay with clergy, the assembly with God, worshipers with each other); and financial realities (what people consider essential given limited funds, what people would want if additional sources of revenue could be found).

Once the consultation is completed, the liturgical criteria must be given priority. Values other than liturgical ones do matter and must temper decisions by, at the very least, improving the quality of understanding between the worshipers and the leadership. Values other than the liturgical ones, though, should not be determinant.

One of the most effective and liberating tools the church has at its disposal is knowledge. From a broad-based knowledge of liturgy, people can make informed choices for their renovation or building projects. If knowledgeable people are not available locally, the parish should invite competent outsiders to help the members, or at least the leader, understand more about the liturgical principles operative in this situation. For example, in the Roman Catholic tradition, those who will deliberate and decide upon the eventual shape of worship space need to understand, at the very least, the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy and Environment and Art in Catholic Worship. Structural engineers, artistic consultants, or architects should not be given the power to make decisions without demonstrating knowledge of the liturgical criteria.

Often I have seen well-intentioned but undereducated leaders of a renovation or building project relinquish decision-making power to individuals who claim liturgical competence. In reality, these artisans have made choices in brick and mortar, wood, and glass that betray priorities other than the liturgical ones. The end product, while lovely in its own way, does not serve the gathered community at prayer. Having a beautiful building does not necessarily mean having a good place for worship (see Bill Brown, AIA, “Space as Servant of the Assembly,” in Building and Renovation Kit for Places of Catholic Worship).

Timing

Timing is no small issue when modifying or building a church. It takes time to raise the funds necessary to complete the project. It takes time to raise the consciousness of those worshipers who are ready and willing to learn. If the leaders show a desire to learn, this will go a long way in fostering the receptivity of the worshipers to learning and possible change. The leaders must show that they do not know it all. Learning needs to happen on many fronts. Some individuals will not be ready and willing to learn more about liturgy but will want only to voice their preconceptions. Others will grow through the intelligent presentation of liturgical information, provided you offer it with care. This will take time. Those who tend to prefer quick decisions and action may be hard-pressed by the extended efforts needed to educate others. But the time and the effort put forth to help others understand are worth the trouble.

A few years ago, I explained to a beloved aunt the thinking behind the renovation of a church on which I had worked. With exasperation, she stated passionately her desire for the traditional church. I realized that my heart and my head were responding in different ways. With my heart, I felt compassion for my aunt who did not like this unfamiliar approach to how a church “should” look. With my head, I knew that traditional goes beyond the twentieth century and that the thinking behind the renovation I had explained was rooted in early church understanding and practice.

How traditional should Christians be? What should educated Christians use as the ultimate criteria for the design of liturgical space? The best of contemporary liturgical thinking has patristic roots. All the same, we need to be patient with people, like my aunt, who feel less and less at home in places of worship that are outside their experience. Feelings cannot be rationalized away, but people can be invited to reexamine them in light of new data. On many occasions, new learning has served to initiate remarkable movement. Will everyone learn? No, of course not. Will some people reconsider their perspectives in light of education? Yes. Will the numbers be sufficient to justify the time it took to offer education? As the American educator, Derek Bok said: “If you think education is expensive, try ignorance.”

The community needs to avail itself of the best thinking. This is especially true at the beginning. Doing this will benefit the community for years to come. Relegating decisions to popular opinion or to power broking will lead to a finished product with which nearly everyone will have problems. It will be like the horse that was put together by a committee and ended up looking more like a camel.

Worship is too important to be left to less than the best we can bring.

Questions to Ask about Your Worship Space

This article asks the kinds of questions that force congregations to think about the power of their worship space to form worship that is faithful to the gospel and meaningful to all participants. The questions are asked in light of the Reformed tradition, but can be modified to reflect the specific theological commitments of any given worshiping community.

The sanctuary is the setting for most corporate worship experiences. Either by design or by interest, the worship committee often finds itself involved in the custodial concerns and mechanics of presenting meaningful worship in that space. While mechanical concerns are not to be ignored, theological messages presented by the setting need to receive attention as well. The worship committee can be the bridge between the congregation’s level of understanding of worship and the clergy’s role in utilizing the symbolic in response and instruction.

Take time to look objectively at your worship setting. Do the furnishings and architecture and symbols represent your congregation’s theology of worship? Do they tell a faith story or reflect socioeconomic values? Does the building focus on God, or has the building become the thing that we worship?

The Room. What message is communicated by the room itself? Does it generate a sense of awe or a sense of community? Do you want it to be a place for responding in worship—or a place for observing worship? What can be done to make a tiny church feel awe-filled? What can a large worship space do to provide a setting for “community”? Does the church with movable seating communicate an active, alive faith, or careless disregard for tradition? Most of all, is what you see in your sanctuary consistent with the theology of worship?

The Pulpit. Where is the pulpit located? Is the clergy “removed from” or “among” the people? Does its placement say what you believe about the relationship of clergy and laity?

The Table. Is it clear that the Lord’s Table is a table and not an altar? Is the Table intentionally placed either “removed from” or “among” the people? Would there be a powerful message in changing its location on some occasion? Does the congregation understand the symbolism of whatever arrangement or placement you are utilizing or tolerating?

The Baptismal Font. Where is your baptismal font or bowl located? Calvin would have placed it near the pulpit (the Word) and the Lord’s Table to indicate the unity of the three. Some of us, on the other hand, have begun to appreciate the placement of the font by the entrance to the sanctuary as symbolic of baptism as an entrance rite into the life of the church. What can be communicated if the baptismal font or bowl is very small or usually stored in a cupboard in the kitchen?

Other Visual Symbols. Are your symbols, including the cross, selected and placed with an eye to the message? Are the symbols, especially banners, ever changed, changed seasonally, weekly, or only when convenient? Have memorial gifts distorted the faith story? What is the value of floral arrangements? Can they enhance the liturgical year in addition to reflecting the seasons of the calendar? Does the lighting of a candle or candles, especially a paschal candle, have symbolic value in your congregation or is the lighting a housekeeping matter understood only by clergy?

Recently I heard of a church building program in which every design decision was made with an eye to its potential value for teaching and experiencing the faith. I also visited a sanctuary in which the baptismal font was padlocked and the chancel cross so small as to be nearly imperceptible. I am curious what a caring worship committee might do with each of these “problems.” In the first case, the power of the theology of the building and furnishings cannot be sustained if the symbols are neither taught nor space utilized consistently with their understanding. In the case of the second church, it is necessary to recognize the power of symbols for everyone in order to correct the messages now being communicated unintentionally. In careful planning of new worship space, the potential for empowering or at least stimulating the congregation by design and furnishing is immense. But the constraints of the already-designed or misdesigned facility require even more of the committee if the building is to say what we believe.

It is God that empowers our faith journey, but the use of the space has the power to detract or enhance the journey. The issues will not produce ultimately the right answers but will assist the faithful in understanding. We must take worship seriously enough to not miss opportunities to teach the faith and to carefully call it out in all that we do.

Acoustical Design for Congregational Singing

Congregational singing can be effectively stymied or greatly encouraged by the acoustical properties of the worship space. Recent trends in church architecture have unfortunately led to the use of more acoustically absorbent materials, which is harmful to this important aspect of worship. The following article provides helpful advice to remedy this problem.

Perhaps the greatest challenge in architectural acoustics is the worship environment. The acoustical characteristics within a worship space must cover the gamut from pristine clarity for the spoken word to enveloping reverberance for the pipe organ. The demands for room responsiveness exceed those of traditional concert halls and multipurpose performance facilities.

A closer examination reveals an even greater richness in this range of acoustical qualities. The speech end of the spectrum must accommodate all types of voices, from lay readers to seasoned preachers who will utilize every available nuance of the dynamic range—from a tumultuous shout to an intimate whisper to poignant silence. Through all this, the Word must be understood throughout the entire congregation.

At the opposite extreme is the pipe organ, capable of a dynamic range and frequency spectrum that can exceed that of a full symphony orchestra. And somewhere between the auditory alpha and omega are the choir and solo voice. They too must convey the Word with warmth and clarity, while encouraging and supporting the participation of the congregation.

Many of the difficulties of combining, within one structure, the requirements for speech intelligibility and musical resonance have been solved. Yet, if there is one facet of church acoustics that might be thought of as the neglected stepchild, it is the provision of appropriate acoustics for congregational singing.

Acousticians serving as consultants in church building projects, whether a renovation or new design and construction, are typically presented with a list of priorities during the initial stages. These invariably include a statement calling for “excellent acoustics for congregational singing.” However, as the project develops, this program element is frequently overshadowed or forfeited in compromise to other perceived needs.

Church renovation or construction projects involve an extraordinary variety of needs and priorities among the clergy and congregation. A church building project is, after all, a multifaceted undertaking and will typically involve

1.     An organ. The selection and cost of an organ can be a major issue. Usually, a committee is appointed to study alternatives and make recommendations. They may spend a year or more touring neighboring churches, interviewing organists, and debating the pipe-versus-electronic and tracker-versus-electropneumatic issues. The installation of a significant instrument can easily exceed $500,000 and have major architectural and aesthetic ramifications.

2.     A choir or music program. Here too a committee may be selected to address questions of placement of the choir, provisions for rehearsal space, new robes and robe storage, and so on.

3.     A sound-reinforcement system. Another committee or perhaps one of the other sound-related committees should be responsible for the sound system. The system must amplify speech intelligibly and perhaps include provisions for music reinforcement, recording, playback, and so on. It must also be visually unobtrusive and preferably invisible.

4.     Furnishings and finishes. The visual elements of the project call for many decisions regarding materials and colors, religious and art objects, seating, lighting, etc. This particular facet of the project is a major preoccupation for the architect who is deeply concerned about the impression the space will make, an overwhelmingly visual impression.

Too often the priority of congregational singing is overwhelmed by the high cost and visibility of other elements. When this happens, it is often assumed (or hoped) that if the worship space is designed to provide good acoustics for speech, organ, and choir, then it will naturally provide a welcome environment for congregational song. This is a reasonable-sounding assumption, but it is not necessarily true. To appreciate this, we might ask what is really known about the acoustical requirements for congregational singing and how these relate to those for speech intelligibility, organ, and choir. Before addressing these issues directly, let’s briefly consider a more fundamental question.

What Is Meant by Good Acoustics for Congregational Singing? This is indeed an intriguing question. When it comes to the qualities of the singing voice, research in acoustics has been primarily concerned with trained voices in the performance environment. This is not an appropriate paradigm for the common parishioner who may or may not be able to carry a tune, who may or may not even enjoy signing. Published studies dealing with the ordinary voice are generally geared toward open-plan offices, speech interference, telecommunications, and the like.

Let’s take a less pedantic approach, then, since there is little scholarship regarding the “optimal acoustics for the untrained voice as applied to congregational singing.” Let us consider some reasonable assumptions to motivate the formulation of acoustical requisites for congregational singing.

  1. The environment should provide support and encouragement for the untrained voice. It should sufficiently enrich and enhance the quality of the ordinary voice so that the singer feels encouraged to sing out, to participate in the communal act of lifting the voice in praise.
  2. The acoustic response of the space should impart to each individual in the congregation a sense of being a part of the assembly, an assurance that one is not alone or unduly exposed.
  3. The environment should convey to each parishioner the awareness that, as small as one’s contribution may seem, it is a meaningful part of the whole.

To summarize, the ideal environment ought to enhance the quality and fullness of the voice, provide a sense of envelopment, yet provide a sense that one’s simple gifts are an essential part of the whole and that this whole is profoundly greater than the sum of its parts. We seek, in essence, a sonic analog of unity, echoing the concept of the oneness of the assembly, while acknowledging the sanctity of the individual.

This is, perhaps, a rather grandiose concept; it surely exceeds the aspirations of even the most accomplished acoustician. But the concepts embodied in these lofty ideals suggest some well-understood acoustical principles. An insightful interpretation of these requirements can provide the proper acoustical conditions for congregational singing. Let’s take a brief look at some of the fundamentals involved.

Reverberation. Most people have some familiarity with reverberation time, the quality of sustain that occurs in large, hard-surfaced spaces. One need not be an acoustician to have some sense of the sound enhancement provided by a cathedral with a six-second reverberation time, a space where it takes six seconds for a sound to fade to inaudibility. Some of the more erudite may be aware that concert halls typically provide a reverb time of two seconds or more for symphonic music and that a pipe organ requires more than three seconds. There are many well-established benchmarks for “optimum” reverberation times for all types of environments and all forms of music. There are, however, no comparable reverberation criteria for congregational singing.

Nonetheless, reverberation is unquestionably a major and necessary factor for enhancing the quality of the ordinary voice in worship spaces. It also increases the loudness of a sound. Reverberation is, after all, made up of the myriad returns of acoustic energy from sound-reflective building surfaces. This energy combines with the original sound and increases the apparent loudness of the source. You might think of the analogy of a light source in a room. If the wall surfaces are covered with a dark, non-reflective finish, the overall illumination throughout the space will be less than if the finishes are light and reflective.

Sound-Absorbing Materials within the Worship Space. In most churches designed for good acoustics, there is a minimum of sound-absorbing material. In fact, in most churches, the single greatest sound absorber is the congregation itself. The fully clothed person provides about as much sound absorption as four to six square feet of conventional acoustical ceiling tile. A congregation of one thousand can provide as much sound absorption as an entire suspended acoustical ceiling over the nave!

It is fairly well-known that a certain amount of sound absorption is required to prevent echoes and to control reverberance. But it is not generally known that the performance of sound-absorbing material is strongly dependent on the location of this material relative to the sound source.

If a sound source is located quite far from a sound absorber and if this source is also projecting its sound away from the absorber, then the sound will have an opportunity to develop. It will blossom and begin to fill the room volume before the absorption begins to produce its sound-suppressing effect. In a church, these are generally the conditions that exist for sounds produced by the choir and organ. The major sound absorber (the congregation) is relatively far from the choir and organ, and both are oriented so that their sounds project directly into the full room volume. These conditions allow these sound sources effectively to utilize the available reverberation of the worship space.

If, on the other hand, the sound source is located near a major absorbing surface, the sound is directed (more or less) into the absorber, then the sound will be absorbed before it has a chance to be enhanced by the reverberance of the space. As we shall see later, these conditions fairly well describe those that exist for the voices in the congregation. In fact, it is a common perception, from within a congregation, that the choir and organ sound reverberant, while the congregation sounds rather dry in comparison. This is primarily a result of the proximity of the congregation’s voices to the sound absorption provided by the clothed bodies throughout the congregation’s seating area.

Sound-Reflecting Surfaces. Acoustically reflective surfaces are especially important for the support and distribution of unamplified sounds. A choir, if located near sound-reflective surfaces, can project its sound more fully and uniformly. A properly oriented overhead reflector can have enormous beneficial effects by projecting sound to the assembly and distributing sound among the choir members. A choral shell would be a real asset for a church choir, but such performance-oriented furnishings are considered by many to be inappropriate in the house of the Lord. Acousticians often attempt to introduce architectural elements that will perform the same functions as a choral shell while respecting the aesthetics and sanctity of the worship environment.

In much the same fashion, the voices of the congregation could make beneficial use of nearby reflecting surfaces to help distribute their sound throughout the assembly and provide support. However, only those singers near the perimeter will derive any advantage from sidewalls. There are rarely any usable overhead surfaces for the congregation since the needs for long reverberation require large room volumes and comparably great ceiling heights. The only available reflective surfaces are the pews and surrounding floor area.

Acoustical Requisites for Congregational Singing

We can summarize this review of acoustical factors with a statement of the obvious: Long reverberance and supportive reflections provide the foundation for delightful and awe-inspiring sound qualities of the archetypal church. These same factors greatly enhance the sound of the organ and choir and add a larger-than-life grandeur to speech.

It seems reasonable to assume that these qualities should also lend themselves to the need for congregational singing. They do. But they do not assure it. Nonetheless, large room volumes and long reverberation times are basic and minimum requirements for an environment that will encourage participation in congregational singing. We need to look just a bit further to see why these necessary conditions may not be sufficient.

Location and Disposition of the Sound Source. There is one feature of congregational singing that distinguishes it from nearly every other musical acoustic setting: The sound sources and receivers are in virtually the same location. Even more important, the sources and receivers are at the same physical height. There are few, if any, equivalent situations in musical acoustics. (There are some parallels in the acoustics of rehearsal rooms and stages, but the context and objectives are quite different.)

It should be evident that the height of a sound source, relative to the listener, is an important acoustical consideration. From an elevated position, sound is projected more efficiently and uniformly. The architectural acknowledgment of this principle is evident in the traditional form of music performance spaces. The principle is equally applicable in worship spaces. For example, the elevation of the chancel and celebrant takes advantage of the sound projection made possible by this simple height differential. The organ pipes and choir are typically elevated for the same purpose and are often located in a loft. Even within the choir, we typically find risers to take advantage of the enhanced projection of sound made possible by being elevated. Loudspeakers for the spoken liturgy are also placed as high as possible. Comparing these examples with the conditions in the congregation, we see that the assembly is at a decided disadvantage.

Another closely related factor is the directivity of the voice. The greatest concentration of sound energy from the untrained voice projects forward and down at a slight angle. Within the congregation, this tends to direct sound into the back of the person immediately in front. Most of the sound will be absorbed by clothing. What little remains to be reflected and scattered will be further absorbed by neighboring worshipers.

Pew Cushions and Carpeting. For the needs of congregational song, the use of any form of sound-absorbing material in and around the congregation is detrimental. It is not that these materials are the only cause of a poor environment for congregational singing. But, if we examine the most commonly occurring conditions in worship spaces, even in highly reverberant spaces, we see that the congregation already has several strikes against it:

  • The congregation is typically on one level (except where there is a balcony) and cannot take advantage of the benefits to sound distribution provided by elevation, raked seating, or tiers.
  • There are few, if any, proximal surfaces to produce supportive sound reflections and to distribute sound throughout the seating area.
  • The congregation is engulfed in a sea of highly effective sound absorption. The ordinary clothing worn to services is absorptive enough, and in cold climates heavy outer clothing can increase the amount of effective absorption by 50 percent or more.
  • To make matters worse, the normal directivity of the voice projects the sound energy from each member directly into this body of absorption.

The introduction of further absorption in the congregation in the form of pew cushions and carpeting is truly the final blow. It should be clear from the presentation above that this is a matter of physical fact, not simply the knee-jerk reaction of most acousticians who, as everyone knows, are always lobbying against the introduction of sound-absorbing material of any sort.

In fact, pew cushions and carpet produce, simultaneously, two effects that are directly contrary to the acoustical requirements for congregational song:

  • They absorb sound and do so in a highly efficient fashion because of their proximity to the sound source.
  • They occlude the floor and pew surfaces. These sound-reflective surfaces would otherwise be available to provide supportive reflections and to scatter sound among the assembly.

Pew cushions are generally considered to be a comfort issue as well as cosmetic concern. In truth, sitting on a contoured wooden pew for an hour is not a great discomfort. People of all ages are quite willing to sit in far less comfortable seating for even longer periods. Ballpark bleachers and park benches are two examples that immediately come to mind. This is really a matter of perception and priorities.

If pew cushions simply cannot be avoided, there are some alternatives that can minimize sound absorption. Cushions made with vinyl covering or fabrics with latex or vinyl backing will provide less sound absorption than the more common fabric upholstery. There are also closed-cell foams and alternative padding materials that offer adequate comfort without absorbing as much sound.

Carpeting is generally an aesthetic matter. There are many attractive hard-surfaced alternatives (for example, quarry tile, wood parquet, etc.) that would not introduce further absorption in and around the congregational seating area. If carpet is required for safety or to minimize the sound of footfalls, use the thinnest material possible and cover only the minimum area necessary.

Other Factors. Mechanical-system noise is of great concern in worship spaces. A noisy ventilation system can ruin speech intelligibility and cause distractions at the most inopportune moments. This same noise can have detrimental effects on congregational singing.

Consider the fact that background-noise generators are used in some open-plan offices to provide speech privacy and to reduce distraction from conversations and activities in neighboring areas. In such environments, an electronically produced “white noise” is used to drown out sounds from adjacent areas. The artificial noise effectively isolates areas by blocking or masking normally audible sounds. It is much like the effect of running water drowning out conversation in your home.

However, for congregational singing, we need to maximize communication within and throughout the entire sanctuary. A noisy background can greatly reduce the sense of support you would perceive from those singing around you.

Priorities and Compromises. Much of the foregoing has been a restatement of the oft-heard indictment against carpeting and pew cushions in the worship space. Hopefully, it has shown that if acoustics for congregational singing is a priority, then there are few options available, few concessions that can be made. There are no conventional methods that can offset the negative effects of sound-absorbing materials in and around the congregation.

It has also acknowledged the fact that church-building projects evoke conflicting priorities that call for compromise. There will surely be incompatibilities among the major areas of the project, for example, liturgy, architecture, and acoustics. There will even be disparities within these areas such as the conflicting acoustical requirements for speech and music. However, the acoustical characteristics required for choir, organ, and congregational singing are wholly compatible. These same characteristics (with a properly designed speech-reinforcement system) will provide the responsiveness necessary for the full range of liturgical oratory and actually enhance the richness and uniformity of speech distribution among the assembly.

It can be as compelling and uplifting as that which exists in any collective experience. While we might all wish for better singing voices, we must acknowledge that in some endeavors our God-given gifts are limited, but that we can be more than we are individually by being part of the whole. This is, perhaps, an idealized concept of the power of congregational singing, but proper acoustics within the sanctuary can help bring this concept to fruition.

The Problem of Worship Renewal in Present Worship Space

Many existing church structures present problems for current efforts at worship renewal. In particular, these structures may fail to emphasize the primary symbols of Word, font, and Table or altar. They may also significantly restrict movement around these primary symbols and leave little room for the congregation to gather for worship. This article outlines some of these problems and is therefore instructive for congregations who may be designing new spaces for worship or renovating old ones.

A generation ago the debate about architectural style revolved around theological perspectives. On the one side of the debate were those who argued that the only appropriate architectural style was the “center-pulpit church.” On the other side of the debate were advocates of a “split-chancel church.” The former would have looked like many church buildings that were built in the late 1800s, whose prominent feature was supposed to be a dominant, central pulpit that emphasized the essential role of the reading of Scripture by the clergy and the preaching of the sermon. The latter building would have appeared much like any Anglican church of the day, with a long choir and a visible Table at the end of the sanctuary, and with a smaller pulpit to one side of the chancel with a lectern or reading desk for the Scriptures at the opposite side. The advocates of this style believed that it gave a balanced emphasis to Word and sacraments. By placing such a “balance” within an almost medieval structure, the advocates of such a style were often derided by the other party as being more “high-churchy.”

Today that debate is totally out of date. With the acceptance of new service books that give expression to the fruits of almost a century of biblical and liturgical research, none of the old buildings and their architectural styles give adequate expression to the new realities. The dominant role of the clergy in worship is no longer acceptable. Choirs are no longer seen as “religious performers” in some Victorian concert hall, providing entertainment to the congregation as a means of alleviating the weariness associated with long pastoral prayers and even longer sermons contained within worship that gave practically no active role to the people. Consequently, there is a growing awareness that our church buildings give inadequate expression to the new forms of worship. While some of them are capable of interior modification to address these realities, many congregations will look to new buildings as their congregations grow. Others will look to new buildings as older congregations that are growing smaller are amalgamated and relocated on new sites. Properly addressed, this can be an exciting and stimulating time in the life of a congregation.

What’s Wrong with the Old Architectural Style?

Most church buildings are characterized by flaws that prevent free worship. Generally, there is practically no movement space at the front of the sanctuary. Many churches have relatively small Communion tables that have been crowded under the pulpit and must be moved out for celebrations of the sacrament in order to allow the minister to sit behind it facing the people. This leaves barely enough room for the servers to move from their seats to receive the elements at the Table for distribution to the people. On those occasions when the people come forward to receive the Communion at the Table, movement past the Table by the people is awkward. This same lack of movement space at the front of the church is very noticeable at weddings. Here, in many churches the Table must literally be moved from its central position and placed to one side, blocking a side aisle, in order to enable the prie-dieu to be located in front of the bride and groom and to allow space for the minister to stand there as well. As it is, the entire first pew on either side of the main aisle must be left empty.

The same lack of space is also very evident in celebrations of baptism. The baptismal font, in churches that do not have a pool, should be one of the most prominent items of liturgical furnishing. Yet, because it occupies too much of that small space that may be needed for other purposes, it is placed to one side, along a sidewall, while at other times it is removed entirely from the front of the church. At baptisms, it is placed within this small space to one side of the Table, and those being baptized are crowded around it with the feet of people in the front pew again being a hazard.

This lack of movement space becomes very apparent whenever a funeral is held. The church is the proper place for funerals, especially for people whose lives have been closely associated with the worship of God, and even more especially where that association has taken place in this building. However, the lack of space to place the coffin and the lack of space to move about it, together with the numbers of steps that must be climbed to get into the church building in the first place, often discourage people from having the funerals of loved ones take place here. Because of the limitations of space, the Table must be moved in order to accommodate the coffin, and the candles that visualize the light of the world, who is the Christ who gives us hope at such times of sadness, are also crowded onto the rails surrounding the Pulpit rather than being able to stand significantly at the head of the coffin.

Such lack of movement space is not just a logistics problem for people. Much more importantly, it is a hindrance to the setting forth of those pieces of liturgical furnishings that symbolize the very core of our faith. Like so many church structures that are based to some extent on the Victorian concert hall model, the pulpit and the pipe organ are the dominant visual elements. For many churches, this has had the effect of singling out the sermon in the Liturgy as the central element of worship. The somewhat hidden Communion table indicates a poor understanding of the centrality of the sacrament alongside the preaching of the Word. In many church buildings, the pulpit area is also extremely confined. While there are the customary three chairs behind it, space is often so small that it becomes almost a gymnastic feat to move more than one person around from chair to chair. Consequently, the very structure discourages the use of lay readers, thus once again centering out the Minister as the official “worshiper” on behalf of everyone else. The large pulpit Bible solemnly set on this pulpit thus becomes disengaged from the people and appears to be the domain of the minister. All of that is simply bad theology and communicates a message that is contrary to the message that is being given verbally from that same pulpit by the minister!

Like most older buildings, the seating in the sanctuary is represented by fixed pews set in rows one behind the other on both sides of a central aisle. It is almost impossible to establish a sense of “community” in a building where, for the most part, you are looking at the back of someone’s head. This form of seating arrangement carries with it all the theology of the Middle Ages, where the laity in the nave of the church was physically separated from the significant actions of the clergy in the choir area at the front of the building. We need to remember that earlier tradition did not place seating in the church at all, much like the Eastern Orthodox practice, and people were able to turn around, move, and mingle; to rub shoulders with each other in such a way as to make no mistake that this was a community of the faithful gathered together to offer their worship and devotion to God.

Consequently, one of the “musts” for a new building will be the need to provide seating in something like the half-round so that people can see each other. With a large central area devoted to the pulpit, Table, and font, and with the seating located around that focus, people will be able to recognize themselves as a community of people gathered together around those visual symbols of God’s presence among us rather than a group of individuals focusing on a religious lecture and entertained every now and then by a choir. In this proposed arrangement the choir would be seated in one section of the curved pews, able to be seen by the congregation so that the choristers could cue the people for their participation, but also very be evidently identified as part of the worshiping congregation rather than a body of entertainers. Such a seating arrangement requires careful thought relative to the placement of the pipe organ. Whatever the mechanics and sound demands of that placement require, the organ should not be seen as the most visible artifact in the building.

Such a plan would solve the problem of movement space at the front of the church, making many things possible, including much more lay participation than is possible now. Weddings would be vastly improved, and funeral caskets would be able to be placed and moved with much greater effect and dignity than is now possible. Such a seating layout also enables more people to be gathered together but kept within much closer proximity to each other than is ever possible with a long, narrow nave. With such seating, it would also be possible to leave gaps at aisles where wheelchairs could easily be placed, enabling handicapped people to be physically and visually a part of the congregation. With a church building built at ground level, without any steps anywhere approaching it or in it, the handicapped will be encouraged to attend the worship of God. That none do so now is caused by the congregation’s unwillingness to accept them. It is simply the fault of the building that does not accommodate them.

Another problem posed by many present buildings is the lack of gathering space. Many buildings have a narrow narthex at its main entrance. Imagine a Sunday congregation of between 100 and 120 on average moving from the sanctuary following the benediction into a narthex that measures ten feet by twenty feet, already filled with several tables and containers for food-bank donations, and you can readily appreciate that it is not a mingling space! It is, however, important to provide a sufficient space outside the sanctuary where people can congregate prior to worship and greet each other following worship without being jostled and pushed or made to feel that they have to move on for fear of blocking someone else’s approach or departure. Many new churches have an expansive narthex and a kitchenette where tea and coffee are prepared for fellowship times after worship. This large, bright, and cheery gathering place is an excellent companion space to that of the sanctuary.

The Structure and the Church Year

All of this concern for adequate architecture to enable adequate worship to take place impinges heavily on the subject of the church year and its expression. Beginning in Advent, a building without adequate visual space surrounding pulpit, Table, and font leaves little room for the use of such symbols as the Advent wreath with its candles. Where such visual symbols can be easily seen in a central location relative to the people, its use assists in focusing attention on the theme of each Sunday in Advent. The appearance of chrismon trees or Jesse trees should not be relegated merely to church-school classrooms. With sufficient room to accommodate their presence in the sanctuary, they can again add visual focus to children’s participation in the Advent season’s devotional acts each Sunday. As Christmas approaches, the need for suitable space in which to place the crèche is also important. Within many of our traditions, the use of a Christmas tree carries on customs that many Lutherans claim credit for beginning. In my present church structure, all of these make their appearance, leaving the front of the church totally crowded and less effective than they might otherwise be.

Each season of the church year carries with it potential for changes in color through banners, antependia, and drapes. In older buildings, these can only be used as the building permits. A new structure provides an architect and the people with the opportunity of reflecting on the good use of color to highlight the change of ecclesial seasons. Walls thus have more significance than just structures to keep the roof and the floor apart! This usefulness of the visual in the form of changing color needs to be given thought in the design of the structure.

Holy Week and the triduum cry out for adequate space for the special services that mark this highlight of the church year. Gathering space outside the sanctuary proper is essential for the formation of processions that often precede some of these rites. Open space around the pulpit, Table, and font becomes necessary for the adequate use of candles in the Tenebrae. In my congregation, the movement of elders in relation to the Great Entry of the elements in the form traditional to the Church of Scotland is a feature of our Maundy Thursday celebration of the sacrament. Clear space to enable the gathered congregation to see what is happening is essential to the effectiveness of the movement, something that is now lessened by the design of the present building. The special and particular needs of the high holy seasons have traditionally been overlooked completely in much of Protestant church architecture. With the renewal of concern and interest in matters liturgical among many Protestants, the time is now ripe for the appearance of buildings that give adequate expression to the full range of Christian worship.

Pulpit, Font, and Table

The following article examines every aspect of the worship space, reflecting the unique perspectives of the Reformed tradition. With regard to many concerns, the similarity of the Reformed view with other views expressed in this chapter is quite striking—a reflection of how much various worship traditions have learned from each other. One point of contrast among traditions concerns the understanding of the sacraments and how that understanding is reflected in the design of the worship environment.

Church buildings are really quite unnecessary! In fact, early in its history, the church did not have buildings. If the church were again to be without buildings, it certainly would be hampered, but it would not lose anything essential to its life. All that is needed is some space, a Bible, some water, a loaf of bread, and a bottle of wine. This is true because it is the community that the building houses that is primary. The community of God’s people gives the building its meaning, purpose, and dignity. The building has little meaning apart from the community that gathers in it.

However, buildings are important. They are important because of their function. They accommodate the gathering of people and provide a place where the Word can be preached and the sacraments celebrated. It is not easy to maintain the community apart from someplace to meet. Furthermore, the building either helps or hinders the church in understanding its true God-given nature. Whenever a congregation builds or renovates its space for worship it ought to ask itself, “How can the space for worship best serve to build up the community in Christ?”

Form Follows Function

Modern architecture works from the premise that form follows function. This means that buildings are designed from the inside out. Worship space is, therefore, to be built to serve the liturgy in the best possible way. Care needs to be taken to ensure that our buildings do not get in the way of the liturgical actions. Worship should never be shaped by the architecture; worship should always shape the architecture. Peter Hammond wrote, “The task of the modern architect is not to design a building that looks like a church. It is to create a building that works as a place for liturgy” (Peter Hammond, Liturgy and Architecture [New York: Columbia University Press, 1961], 9).

When planning space for worship, we need to consider first the nature and needs of the worshiping community and seek to answer questions such as, “What is the church, … its purpose, … its mission?” “What is the meaning of worship, … of the sacraments, … of preaching?” “How can space for worship help us understand worship?” “What are the actions and movements of the liturgy, and how can the building best accommodate them?” Only by beginning with this kind of a functional analysis can the resulting space adequately serve its purpose. A congregation should never ask an architect to start plans until it has come to understand the nature and function of its life together as a community of faith. It is the responsibility of the congregation to articulate this self-understanding to the architect so that it may shape the design.

The importance of starting with a definition of function becomes clear when one realizes that the reverse of the principle “form follows function” is in some sense also true. A building always tends to shape what takes place in it. John A. T. Robinson made this point:

The church building is a primary aid, or a primary hindrance, to the building up of the Body of Christ. And what the building says so often shouts something entirely contrary to all that we are seeking to express through the liturgy. And the building will always win—unless and until we can make it say something else. (John A. T. Robinson, “Preface,” in Making the Building Serve the Liturgy, ed. by Gilbert Cope [London: A. R. Mowbray & Co. Ltd., 1962], 5)

It is important to so shape the building for worship that, when it is used, it will shape us in accordance with the best insights of our faith.

Space for Corporate Worship

Space for worship should help a congregation understand that Christian worship is basically communal. Many church buildings encourage an individualistic view of worship and contribute little to a corporate sense. A building designed for corporate worship should somehow seem incomplete until the people gather together in it.

It is important to consider how the expression of worship’s corporate nature should shape the form and location of each of the liturgical spaces:

A.     the place occupied by the congregation;
B.     the area for the choir;
C.     the space for baptism;
D.     the space for proclamation;
E.     the space for the Lord’s Supper; and
F.     the space required for processions and the movement of the people.

For example, the location of the people will either suggest a group of individuals in a spectator role or a community participating in the action.

A single unified space, rather than the two-room chancel/nave, best underscores the unity of God’s people by including both ministers and laity. The single space also helps eliminate the implication that God is more real in the area screened off from the people where the ministers conduct worship.

Edward A. Sovik suggests that we might see the entire worship space as a chancel rather than a remote part of the space. The liturgical centers—pulpit, font, and Table—would be dispersed throughout the space rather than placed together in a single area. Perhaps people then would more readily recognize that they are part of the liturgical action and not mere spectators. Sovik describes the concept:

It can be helpful if we will allow the space to have many foci so that the congregation can sometimes feel itself to be the center, and sometimes the pulpit, and sometimes the Table, and sometimes the choir, and sometimes the prayer desk, and sometimes the reading desk, and sometimes the baptismal font. And so we would allow the focus to move to wherever the action of the liturgy naturally takes it. This, it seems to me, could make liturgy and architecture companions in a much more effective way than they usually are. (Edward A. Sovik, “Fundamentals for Church Builders,” Your Church 7 [July–Sept. 1961]: 33)

Certainly the long, narrow nave, with people lined up row upon row in military fashion facing a distant chancel, does not contribute to a sense of community or participation. On the other hand, the semicircular arrangement does contribute to a sense of community, for it is the natural way people group themselves, as may be seen when a crowd gathers about a speaker in a public park. The semicircular arrangement helps us be aware of others and assists a group in being a community rather than a faceless crowd.

Even so, while worship’s corporate aspect is fundamental, we must not lose the sense of the holy in our zeal to recover a communal sense. To replace the former otherworldliness with mere sociability would be to move from one extreme to another. The church is a community, but it is a community bound together with its Lord. It is the body of Christ. There needs to be a balance between the sense of community and the sense of the holy.

Hospitality—Simplicity—Flexibility

A church building should express a true hospitality. It is a place for people. This is in keeping with the concept that the church is a household, the family of God. It should therefore convey warmth and not be cold or pompous. On the other hand, it must avoid an atmosphere of “clubiness” or living-room coziness in which God is thoroughly domesticated.

Contemporary liturgical architecture will also express a simplicity. Superfluous elements will be eliminated. The focus will be clearly upon the essentials. Churches are so often cluttered with nonessentials that the primary things are not readily recognized.

Contemporary liturgical architecture also demands a flexibility unknown in the past. The space for worship should accommodate different kinds of services in varying circumstances and occasions. Flexible seating and movable furnishings greatly aid this. Flexible space will also provide the extra benefit of accommodating other congregational activities, thereby enabling the congregation to more adequately fulfill its servant role. When the space for worship is also used in ways that support its mission to the community, the relationship of worship and service come into clearer focus.

In speaking of the need for simplicity and flexibility, one should not conclude that what is being described is the typical multipurpose hall, which is often erected as the first stage of a congregation’s activities. On the contrary, many of these buildings, designed to serve every function, end up serving none well and most poorly. A variety of functions are possible and desirable, but those functions need clear definition, and the space designed accordingly. Furthermore, there are numerous alternatives to the steel folding chairs once characteristic of first units. Seating is now available that is attractive, comfortable, interlocking, and stackable. (The desirability of flexible space is convincingly presented in Edward A. Sovik, Architecture for Worship [Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1973].)

A common problem with the minimal worship space of the typical first unit is that it does not help persons be sensitive to the numinous, to the mystery and majesty of God. Being devoid of the artistic and aesthetic qualities, they fail to point us beyond ourselves. Art mediates a sense of the numinous, because there is a kind of mystery in it which is truly beautiful. It transcends our rational ways of thinking and often moves us to wonder and awe. Beauty as well as truth and goodness are ingredients of our faith and are important to our being fully human.

Therefore, space that is ordinary, banal, or ugly fails to serve the Christian community adequately. We cannot afford to build spaces that dwarf the human spirit. The space for worship with its liturgical centers, together with the objects used in that space (e.g., the vessels used in the sacraments, the Bible itself, vestments, paraments), needs to be planned with artistic sensitivity. Care needs to be taken to avoid what is cheap, tasteless, or sentimental, for such fails to point us to God. Neither is there a place for elaborate ostentation. Simplicity and good taste should prevail. When worship space is artistically designed, embodies a proper balance of space and light, and speaks with theological and liturgical clarity, it will help lift us beyond ourselves.

Particularly important in liturgical space is the character of the liturgical centers—pulpit, font, and Table. These furnishings provide for the material objects that are essential to Christian worship.

Around these three centers the community of faith organizes its life of prayer and praise. These three centers not only fulfill their utilitarian purposes, but also symbolize the actions that are central to the life of the community. Even when they are not in use, they communicate something of the meaning of the actions they enable. Care should be taken therefore to ensure that each center clearly and unambiguously expresses the true nature of the action identified with it.

The Pulpit

Even though the proclamation of the Word is not dependent upon a pulpit, the pulpit is likely to remain as the principal place from which the Scriptures are read and the sermon is delivered. The presence of this liturgical center further symbolizes the centrality and authority of the Scripture in the life of the community of faith. As such, it should clearly express the authority of God.

Where should the pulpit be placed? In early Christian churches, the preacher delivered the sermon while seated on a throne behind the Table. During the late Middle Ages, a recovery of preaching by the mendicant friars resulted in pulpits being placed on the wall on the side of the nave. For much of post-Reformation history, in the Protestant tradition, the pulpit has dominated the space in front of the people, virtually eclipsing the Table and font.

Acoustics are the main consideration for the location of the pulpit. It is helpful when a wall is located immediately behind the pulpit to help amplify the voice. It is not such a great problem in a small building, but a wall at a considerable distance behind the preacher results in the sound of the voice being blurred. A pulpit placed too far forward may result in acoustical problems.

Perhaps the best location is against the wall, but off-center. It has been pointed out that a pulpit located off-center is about as effective acoustically as a central pulpit against the wall, provided the path of reflected sound is not over sixty feet longer than the path of direct sound (Ade Bethune and Thomas A. Drain, “Some Plans on Renovating the Sanctuary for the Renewed Liturgy,” Liturgical Arts 33 [Aug. 1965]: 108). Therefore, the acoustical advantages of a pulpit against the wall are not lost by moving it off-center away from the Table, thus freeing each liturgical center to possess its own space. Care should always be taken to avoid remoteness from the people.

At the same time, it is important in fan-shaped seating that the people are in front of the preacher rather than at the extreme left or right, and certainly not behind the preacher. Unless the people are in front of the preacher, they will not feel they are being addressed. A fan-shaped seating rather than a full horseshoe shape is preferable therefore since it avoids too sharp an angle at the sides of the preacher or celebrant at the Table. The preacher can comfortably address the entire congregation without undue awkwardness turning from side to side. Since the choir is also part of the congregation, it should not sit behind the preacher any more than any other portion of the congregation.

An attempt should be made to have the best acoustics possible, with the ideal being to eliminate the need for a public-address system. A public-address system detracts and makes rapport between preacher and congregation more difficult to achieve. If a public-address system is necessary, it should reinforce the voice without distorting it, with the microphones hidden from the view of the congregation.

The problem of acoustics goes beyond considerations about the pulpit. It is equally important to be able to hear those officiating at the Table and font. By giving proper attention to the acoustics of the entire space, a public-address system may not be needed except in the largest buildings. In an acoustically live building, voice, song, and musical instruments are stimulating.

The visibility is another consideration for the location of the pulpit. It should therefore be elevated sufficiently, so that the minister may be seen by everyone. However, it should not be so high that the minister is isolated from the people. Vertical separation is even more difficult to overcome than horizontal separation since it results in an awkward head angle for those seated near the pulpit.

The design of the pulpit should express a balance of intimacy between the preacher and people, on one hand, and the authority of the Word, on the other. If too large and dominant, the pulpit will convey a sense of hierarchical structure and undue austerity. Preaching then tends to become oratory, formal, and impersonal. On the other hand, an insignificant pulpit magnifies the preacher rather than the preacher’s role as minister of the Word. James A. Whyte points out that an insignificant pulpit tends to “destroy the sense of the rule of the word in the midst of the people” (James A. Whyte, “The Theological Basis of Church Architecture,” in Towards a Church Architecture, ed. by Peter Hammond [London: The Architectural Press, 1962], 108).

Practicality would require spaciousness in the area surrounding the pulpit to enable ample freedom of movement on the part of those participating in the liturgy. A movable pulpit is a distinct advantage to meet the needs of varying situations. Preaching is not the same for every worship occasion.

Care should be taken in the lighting of the pulpit. It is better to have some well-placed lights in the ceiling, illuminating the pulpit area as naturally as possible, than to have a small desk light to light up the manuscript (and the preacher’s stomach), a practice that often leaves the face in the dark. Often, pulpit lamps create glare and are never appealing visually. The light should not be so strong that the preacher cannot see the congregation. The preacher should not be in the spotlight as an actor on a stage. Establishing rapport requires that both congregation and minister see each other. Overhead lighting creates distorting shadows and should be avoided.

A clock built into the pulpit, visible only to the preacher, is a good feature. A small shelf out of view of the congregation to hold hymnal, service book, and papers is a convenience.

The pulpit should be designed so that the Bible is visible at all times during worship. The pulpit Bible, when not being read, can be placed in a niche or front panel on the face of the pulpit. Thus it has its own place of honor. A pulpit designed so that the Bible is its dominant feature will express the relationship between sermon and Scripture. This eliminates the preacher’s manuscript being shuffled on top of the opened Bible or closing the Bible and tucking it away on a shelf in the pulpit. In recommending that the Bible have a place of honor, Theodor Filthaut, a Roman Catholic, writes that the place provided

ought always to manifest that love and veneration which are paid to the book as the instrument of God’s word. Then too, the cabinet or shelf ought to be constructed in such a way that the book (which like the receptacle ought to possess artistic value) can be seen by the faithful. This book does not serve for the perusal of casual visitors. It should be looked upon as a sign of the presence of God’s word in the church. This would give clear expression to the fact that the church is not only a church of the sacrament, but also of the word. (Theodor Filthaut, Church Architecture and Liturgical Reform [Baltimore: Helicon Press, 1968], 65.)

The Bible itself, the quality of its binding, its size, and visual appeal, should say that this book is of great significance for Christians. It is through the sacred Scriptures that we hear the Word of God. The Bible shapes our faith and the way we live. No small hand Bible or paperback edition can visually communicate the centrality that the Scriptures have in Christian worship. We tend to respond causally to whatever is treated casually. We could learn a great deal from the respect Jews give to the scrolls and the way they are used in synagogue worship.

As is common in Scotland, the Bible might be brought into the assembly during an entrance or processional hymn, and then enthroned in its place of honor. It is important that the Bible carried in procession or enthroned in a place of honor be the same Bible whose pages are opened and from which the lessons of the day read.

A pulpit of significance is located in First Presbyterian Church, Lawrence, Kansas. It is approximately seven feet wide with a book rest of approximately six feet in length. Behind the pulpit is a sounding board in the form of a plain wall that extends upward toward the ceiling for about twenty feet. It is about nine feet wide and is painted white. In the upper right corner of the sounding board is a single-column speaker for amplification. It has a pleasing appearance against the dark brick color of the interior of the room. The sounding board is used as a projection screen. Space is provided in the pulpit for an overhead projector, which is sealed from view when not in use. This space for proclamation thus provides for a variety of forms of proclamation.

Whereas a pulpit has a clear and important function, a lectern is not essential to worship. When a lectern is used for reading the Scripture and the preaching is from a pulpit, a division between the reading and preaching is suggested. In ordering worship, preaching and the reading of the lessons should not be separated. Preaching is to immediately follow the readings, thereby underscoring the interdependent relationship of one with the other. Just as this is true in ordering worship, it is equally true for the spatial arrangements. The reading of Scripture and preaching should be from a single-center, the pulpit.

Although a lectern is unnecessary, there are occasions when a speaker’s stand other than the pulpit is desirable. A portable lectern, attractive in design and made to harmonize with the other furnishings, could be provided for such occasions and can be placed when and where needed.

In building or renovating worship space, it is important to anticipate the space needed for a variety of appropriate proclamation forms such as the dialogue sermon, drama, dance, and audiovisual presentations. Although nothing can fully replace a pastor who lovingly interprets the Word to the people, proclamation need not always be in the form of monologue.

Unencumbered space is required for movement and drama. Movable furniture is also desirable, so that it may be relocated as the need emerges. If movable seating is utilized, the entire space can be adapted, as the need requires, to accommodate the varied forms of proclamation. Nevertheless, it is desirable that the space around the Table and the pulpit in its usual arrangement be open and spacious, unencumbered and uncrowded. Thus, other forms may be easily provided for without the need to move the pulpit and Table.

Lighting is again an important consideration in planning for other forms of proclamation. A theatrical appearance should be avoided. An audiovisual room might be located nearby to enable simultaneous projections and to provide for ease in using tapes and recordings. Where a room is not possible, convenient and adequate electrical outlets need to be provided for both power and sound. The projectors may be hidden from view of the congregation by well-placed banners. A white wall surface is desirable, which would eliminate the need for setting up portable screens, which are always intrusive. Speakers need to be built in at appropriate places for the best acoustical effects. The use of audiovisuals may require that some windows be neatly and easily darkened. The space needs to be radiant with light, symbolizing resurrection joy, but should also have the ability to control the light easily and to direct it where it is wanted.

Those responsible for planning the space need to anticipate the various forms that are to be accommodated and build flexibility into the structure that will free the space for use in a variety of ways.

The Font

The space for baptism is too often the neglected liturgical center. Many churches have no visible evidence that baptism is practiced. It is central to Christian worship because it is through a washing with water in the name of the Trinity that one is initiated into the Christian community. This sacrament is a clear sign of God’s grace, of our cleansing from sin, of our dying and rising with Christ, of our incorporation into the body of Christ, and of the gift of the Holy Spirit. All that the gospel means is focused on this sacrament. The font with its surrounding space, the baptistry, should therefore serve more than the utilitarian function of accommodating the ritual washing. It should be the ever-present symbol of Christian initiation.

Given the centrality of this sacrament, where should the place of baptism be located? What should the font be like in order to give baptism the prominence it merits?

In early centuries, Christians built separate buildings to accommodate baptism. Later, fonts were placed in alcoves at the entrance to the nave. Since the Reformation, Protestants have usually baptized persons before the congregation with fonts located near the pulpit and Table.

The communal dimensions of baptism would rule out a separate building for us. It would also rule out an enclosed space in the narthex. In neither location could baptism be celebrated in the presence of the congregation, nor could the people participate.

Nevertheless, when baptism is celebrated at or near the entrance of the nave, it becomes a strong symbol of entry into the body of Christ. There are ways of locating the place of baptism at the entrance without sacrificing the presence and participation of the congregation. The limitations can be overcome if there is no wall separating the baptismal space from the worship room. The removal of the wall would be an economic advantage in making the space serve double duty as an entry and as an open space to accommodate people gathered around the font for the baptism.

Another possibility would be to provide a space for baptism between the narthex and the worship room. Worshipers would pass through the baptismal space as they enter to worship. Any drawbacks hindering a communal celebration of baptism would be reduced if the walls between the baptistry and the worship room were quite open in design.

Perhaps a better alternative would be to locate the place of baptism within the worship room itself. We are quite familiar with the provision of space near the Table and pulpit. The advantage of this location is that people can see, hear, and participate in the sacrament. However, even though the Reformers chose this location to emphasize incorporation into the community, it does not clearly convey this. Nor is the relationship of baptism to the Eucharist and the Word read and preached conveyed simply by placing the font in close proximity to the pulpit and Table. Furthermore, clustering the liturgical centers together results in little movement in worship and contributes to confusing focal points.

There is great symbolic strength in restoring the baptistry to a position at the major entrance into the nave, but preferably inside the worship room. It can be located at the side of the entrance, although a clearer symbolism is conveyed when the font is placed in a space between the door and the seating space, where worshipers must pass around it as they enter. The Christians of the community may be reminded repeatedly of their own baptism through which they entered the Christian community.

The importance of the sacrament is emphasized if sufficient space is provided around the font, enabling part of the congregation to move in procession to it for the baptism. The rest of the congregation could still see, hear, and participate by standing and turning to face the baptistry. Movable seating would be a distinct advantage so that space could be opened up as needed. A baptistry located in this position does not compete with the pulpit and Table. It has its own appropriate space and is able to maintain its own distinct integrity. The relationship of baptism to the Eucharist and the reading and interpreting of Scripture is clearly seen. Baptism is recognized as the way we enter into that community where the Scripture and Eucharist mark the continuing style of the Christian life.

Some efforts have been made to locate the font in the center of the main aisle in the midst of the seating space. This may also symbolize entry into the community, but such an arrangement tends to be crowded and may unduly separate the seating areas. It also can accommodate only a few people at the font, unless movable seating can provide flexibility for baptismal occasions.

There have also been attempts to symbolize the entrance motif of the sacrament in front of the congregation. In these buildings, the font is the first liturgical center seen upon entering, even though the font is actually located in front of the people.

In one such building, the font is located near the pulpit and Table but is on an outside aisle leading from the entrance. It is directly visible as one enters the door from the narthex, since the doors open at the corner of the room. A small room above the aisle lowers the ceiling between the entrance and the baptistry, thereby leading one’s eye directly through an area of reduced light to the font which is bathed in light from a glass wall on the side of the nave. Neither the Lord’s Table nor the pulpit is visible from the entrance. They come into view as one enters the seating space. (This church, St. George, Rugby, England, is described, together with the plan, in J. G. Davies, The Architectural Setting of Baptism [London: Barrie Rockliff, 1962], 155. This book is particularly valuable in tracing the history of baptismal space and the ways the contemporary church is providing for baptism. It is well illustrated.)

Another example combines both the symbolism of entrance with baptism before the people by having an indirect path into the nave. “Along the route one passes a pair of glass doors which open on the baptismal font and allow a glimpse of the chancel area and worship space beyond the font.” (“An Inner City Mission Church,” Faith and Form 1, Special Issue, p. 19. It is a description of Emmanuel Presbyterian Church, Chicago, Illinois.) The font is associated thereby with the entrance, while still being located before the assembled congregation.

Together with the baptistry being located in an open space between the major door and the pews or at the entrance to the space occupied by the worshipers, these examples successfully combine the symbolism of entrance, while still providing an opportunity for the congregation to hear, see, and participate. If the font is to be located in relation to the pulpit and Table in a manner similar to these examples, it should not compete with the Lord’s Table and the pulpit. Each will have its own distinct space. The greater advantage may still be to locate the font away from the pulpit and Table releasing each liturgical center for its own unique action.

There is something to be said in favor of a baptistry in which one must step down into the font area. Stepping down symbolizes identification with Christ’s death and burial. Stepping upward after baptism symbolizes rising with Christ to newness of life. Where this is done, some sort of railing is needed for safety reasons. A paschal candle located in relationship to the baptistry is a reminder of baptismal resurrection. It is appropriate that the baptismal space have artistic beauty. Light streaming through colored glass could further symbolize new birth and new life. Provision for kneeling should be made for the baptism of older children and adults.

The font, set within its own unique space, should be of significant prominence, of ample size and visibility, denoting the importance of baptism. It should not resemble a Victorian birdbath in which the font is insignificant, and especially the kind in which a small glass dish is used in the rite.

The font should be made of stone, marble, ceramic, cement, or some other durable material that is not damaged by water drippings. Because wood is damaged by water, wooden fonts should be avoided. Carvings, relief design, mosaic, or other artistic expression may depict various aspects of the sacrament’s meaning.

The font should be convenient to use for adults, children, or infants. The basin portion should be a minimum of two feet in diameter, which will facilitate easily the pouring of water into it, the scooping of a generous amount of water out of it, and the dipping of an infant into it. (A noteworthy example is the font in St. Richard Church, Jackson, Mississippi, pictured in Frank Kacmarcik, “The Berakah Award for 1981,” Worship 55 [1981]: 377.)

An effective provision for baptism in one church is a large ceramic basin about two feet in diameter. The basin and a matching pitcher are placed on a table at the entrance to the worship space. There they remind the faithful of their own baptism as they enter. This arrangement provides flexibility in use, enabling a variety of locations for the baptismal action. The basin can be moved to the midst of the people for baptism, and then placed once more at the main door. The baptismal vessels should be prominent, in the direct path into the worship space, and thereby obvious to all who enter.

Since immersion is the most dramatic use of water in baptism, forcefully portraying our dying and rising with Christ, some congregations may want a font that is large enough for the immersion of an adult. It is important to keep in mind that a large font can accommodate a variety of modes of baptism, whereas a small font will allow only limited use of water and will be unduly confining.

The font should speak clearly that it is a receptacle for water. Water is clearly the important feature of large fonts and in fonts that are designed so that water recirculates. In this last font, water is seen and heard when entering worship, since it always contains live, running water symbolizing new life. To see and hear the baptismal water when one enters to worship is a reminder of our own baptism and all the meanings associated with it. (A fine example of such a font is in the United Methodist Church, St. Charles, Iowa, pictured in E. A. Sovik, Architecture for Worship, 94.) In small fonts, the font itself as a furnishing tends to become the focus rather than the water in it.

Aids for administering the sacrament would include an ewer, or pitcher, for pouring water into the font (if water is not in the font at all times) and a baptismal shell for use when pouring water over the head of the candidate. The ewer can also be used to pour water over the head of the candidate leaning over the font. The water, as it is poured, falls over the head and into the basin of the font. A generous amount of water should be used, so that it may be seen and heard. This sacrament calls for more than just a dampening of the forehead. The generous use of water will more clearly indicate that baptism is a washing. As a part of the baptistry, a ledge is desirable to accommodate the service book, ewer, shell, and towels.

Drama is heightened when parents, family, and friends form a procession to the font for the baptism and stand with the ones being baptized. If water is not in the font at all times, it may be poured into the font during the rite, immediately prior to the prayer preceding the actual baptism. (Suggestions for baptismal practice are developed in Harold M. Daniels, “Celebrating Baptism,” in Worship in the Community of Faith, ed. by Harold M. Daniels [Louisville: The Joint Office of Worship, 1982].)

The importance of baptism will be more readily recognized when it has its own space with a font of significant proportion and design is celebrated in a liturgy that is sensory in character and unfolds baptism’s manifold meanings.

The Lord’s Table

The Lord’s Table, set in the midst of the assembled congregation, visually symbolizes week by week the presence of Christ in the midst of the faith community. This symbol of Christ’s presence also speaks of the community that Christ inaugurated, which gathers around the Table on each Lord’s day. E. A. Sovik points out that the Communion table is the symbol of the family of Christians, just as the dining table is our strongest symbol of being one when we are gathered at mealtime at home. The meal we have together around the Communion table provides us with our strongest sense of unity as the family of the Lord. (E. A. Sovik, “A Portfolio of Reflections on the Design of Northfield Methodist Church,” Your Church 13 [Sept.–Oct., 1967]: 53-54.)

The Table should be free-standing, enabling the celebrant to officiate from behind it. Reformed Christians have insisted upon the fact that the Communion table is a table and not an altar. It should, therefore, look like a table, preferably with central support and with a top that extends well over the edges of the support to assure the graceful draping of the linen. The top needs to provide adequate space for all of the Communion vessels and the service book. The length and width ought to be in proportion to the area in which it is located. Six to eight feet long is probably ample; the standard height is from 36 to 42 inches. It should be constructed as perfectly as possible from the finest materials.

It is desirable for the Table to be movable. This would make possible varying placements of the Table in celebrating the Lord’s Supper and would be adaptable to different circumstances and occasions.

Art used in the Table and in its environs should enhance the sacramental action, ensuring that the artistry does not detract from the action. Artistic Communion vessels can convey the importance to the occasion and enhance a sense of the holy. The Table and its setting should foster a joyous, festive spirit, for the Eucharist is “the joyous feast of the people of God.”

The Table needs to stand in equal prominence to the pulpit. When constructed of the same material and design as the pulpit, it will imply the unity of the Word in Scripture with the Word in the sacrament. If placed in the center of light concentration, it will help focus the attention of the people. However, the lighting should not isolate the Table from the congregation.

The Table should be fully visible to the congregation at all times. In many churches built about the turn of the twentieth century, the Communion table lacks prominence. When the Table is placed on the floor in front of the pulpit, one is aware of it only when walking down the center aisle. Too often it is the place to put flowers and offering plates, obscuring its purpose.

When raised on a low platform, the Communion table can be seen over the heads of the congregation. One step ordinarily suffices, especially if the congregation is seated in a semicircular configuration around the Table, rather than in a long narrow nave. Certainly, no more than three steps are needed, not raising it to a point that it is isolated from the people, thereby making it a “holy island.” If more than one step is used, they should be broad, inviting easy access. If the design features the pulpit, Table, and font across the front of the room, the steps ought to extend from wall to wall. If the Table is extended into the midst of the people, the steps should surround the platform on three sides.

It should be self-evident that the Table is the Table of the congregation. It must be accessible with no rail separating it from the people. The Table should not appear to be set on a stage but impress the congregation by standing in its midst. Obviously, identification with the Table is much more readily achieved if it is central, with the congregation sitting around it. This conveys a sense of involvement in the action of the Supper. The pastor celebrating from behind the Table is a reminder that the Lord is in the midst of the congregation. Generous space around the Table will facilitate freedom of movement on all sides. The people must be so related to the Table that there is a rapport with the celebrant, but not so close that the space about it becomes crowded.

It is preferable that the people receive the sacrament at the Table rather than merely being in its presence. To receive the sacrament at the Table involves one’s choosing to take the bread and wine, rather than being passively served. In standing around the Table people more readily sense their place within the family of God.

The manner in which the Lord’s Table is used should clearly speak of the character of the sacrament. Therefore, only those articles used in the eucharistic liturgy—the Communion vessels with the bread and wine, and the service book—should be placed on the Table. Whenever such things as flowers, a cross, and a large, open Bible are placed on the Table, making it a shrine to focus the attention of the congregation, the primacy of the Supper is dissipated. Candles may be set on stands around the Table. Flowers may be placed elsewhere in stands. A cross may be located on the wall behind the Table or suspended above the Table. The Bible should be associated with the pulpit where it is read and interpreted.

Offering plates should have their own place apart from the Table. To place them on the Table confuses the nature of the sacrament. The sacrament should speak clearly that God’s grace is prior to our response, that it is God who takes the initiative. It is therefore preferable that another place other than the Table be provided for the offering, such as a credence Table or a shelf near the Table.

It is appropriate that the Lord’s Table be used for all portions of the service, except the reading and interpretation of Scripture. This was Calvin’s practice. The Table is a more appropriate place for prayer than the pulpit, the place of proclamation. An alternate possibility is to lead the confession of sin and the prayers of the people in the midst of the congregation. Such practice clearly conveys that these are the people’s prayers.

The Lord’s Table should be treated with the respect entitled it. Although we do not make it a fetish or place it under a taboo, we do expect that the Table be respected. It ought not be a place for coats or piles of music during choir rehearsal, a convenience to Sunday School teachers for their lesson materials, a countertop for ushers to count the offering, or a station for tellers to count ballots. It is true that it is only a table, but it is the appointed place to set forth the clear sign of God’s grace-filled acts. Respect for the place of sacramental activity naturally flows from a deep appreciation of the significance of the sacrament itself, for which it is the sign. The Lord’s Table will stand in our midst as a clear sign of God’s presence only when it is allowed to express simply, clearly, and without ambiguity the Supper, which is central to the life of worship.

Summary

The reading and interpretation of Scripture, baptism, and the Lord’s Supper are the indispensable actions of Christian liturgy. Around these three actions, the church orders its prayer and praise. Since each action is central to the church’s life, the pulpit, font, and Table are to be given prominence. In order for the essential character of Christian worship to be clearly seen, without distortion or ambiguity, each center is to be designed with great care. Each needs its own separate and uncrowded space. No single center should dominate, deny, or distort the significance of the others. The locations ought to express both the distinctiveness of each as well as their unity and interdependence. The space for worship should clearly say that it is through baptism that one enters the community, which is continuously nourished by Scripture and Eucharist.

More than anything else about a building, these three liturgical centers aid in our growth in Christ and help root us in the essentials of the faith. As parts of the actions they enable, these centers can assist us to understand the meaning of the gospel, to shape us into a Christian community, and to keep before us the essential character of Christian worship. They can do this only when they are carefully designed, shaped by the liturgical action, informed by solid theology, and in continuity with historical tradition.