What Makes a Church Beautiful? - December 10
Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 31; PM Psalm 35; Haggai 1:1-15; Rev. 2:18-29; Matt. 23:27-39
Today’s Reflection
“‘Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you are like whitewashed tombs, which on the outside look beautiful, but inside they are full of the bones of the dead and of all kinds of filth. So you also on the outside look righteous to others, but inside you are full of hypocrisy and lawlessness.” Matthew 23: 27-28
Oftentimes, we humans get swept up in the desire to keep up appearances. We want it to seem like we have our acts together, as individuals and as families, as churches and as communities. Maybe not everyone really gets along at home as well as they do when they’re out to dinner or at the soccer fields or at church on Sunday morning—if we have some problems, then we do our best to keep them quiet, hidden away under the proverbial rugs and behind our closed doors.
We spend a lot of time and money making sure our houses and yards look just so. We spend a lot of time and money making sure our personal appearance looks young and perfect—or as close as possible—whether our hair or skin, our clothes or our shoes. Of course, none of these things are bad in and of themselves. But beauty, as we all know, is more than skin deep.
True beauty goes much deeper than what we see on the surface. True beauty is cultivated within and shows forth through the radiant light of a genuine smile. True beauty is experienced as we share our laughter, our stories, and our lives with friends and family. True beauty is giving freely of all that we have and all that we are to all those whom God has placed within the circle of our care.
In today’s Gospel, Jesus is calling to task church leaders who are all about keeping up appearances. To the leaders of the most outwardly beautiful church in town, Jesus in effect says something like this: “Yes, yes, your church is very impressive.. But tell me this: How do you share love with people? What kind of welcome do you show to the people who are new, or dress differently, or live in a neighborhood across town? What kind of hospitality do you offer to people whose life experiences and stories seem radically unfamiliar, so different from your own? Because that, my friends, is where the true beauty of a church is to be found.”
Jesus wants to take us under his wings, gathering us up to Godself as a mother hen would gather her chicks—to keep us safe and warm and fed. And that’s just what God is hoping we will offer to the people who are out there, wandering through this broken, hurting world and, if we’re lucky, into our church communities. Churches are meant to be places of welcome and respite and refuge. Churches are meant to be places where anyone—absolutely anyone—can enter and know that they will find warm smiles, welcoming hearts, and a place where they can just be the people God has so lovingly created each of them (and us) to be.
So, it sounds like Jesus is saying is that the most beautiful church is not necessarily the one with the most ornate carvings, the most colorful stained-glass windows, or the grandest pipe organ. In No Cure for Being Human, Kate Bowler reminisces about visiting the Batalha Monastery in Portugal. Kate and her father, a fellow historian, moved from room to room, each seemingly more ornate than the last, until they reached a chapel that was “vaulted and spectacularly ornamented. It was fussy and beautiful and ridiculous.” But then Kate realized, as a shadow passed over head, that there was no ceiling, no dome. This chapel was part of a complex structure that was so grand that it could never be finished.
The standard of completeness was just too high to be fully achieved—and so, at a certain point, they just gave up on ever finishing it. Some experience this worship space as one that is flawed in its incompleteness. But what Kate experienced, as she took in the unfinished part of the chapel, was a sense of perfect imperfection. And then, as she and her historian father wandered through the space, they encountered an unknown, enthusiastic tourist whose perspective made a lasting impact on how Kate made sense of this ‘unfinished cathedral’: “But it’s much better this way… Don’t you see it? It’s us! I can’t imagine a more perfect expression of this life. … We’re never done, dear. Even when we’re done, we’re never done.”
Becky+
Questions for Self-Reflection
Recall a time when you experienced a disconnect between the external façade of a place and what it was really like once you got inside. Maybe you felt disappointed by a restaurant or a hotel or even a church that from the outside seemed to be one thing, but on the inside was something else altogether. What did you learn by experiencing that disconnect?
Daily Challenge
Take a mental walk through the campus of Saint Stephen’s. Reflect on who and what people first encounter when they come to church to worship on a Sunday morning. What aspects might come across as closed or intimidating to someone who is new, or who is returning after a long absence?
What aspects of our buildings and our culture seem open and welcoming? What can you personally do to make Saint Stephen’s a place that is welcoming, a place where people want to come back again and again?
Learn more about strategies for being a welcoming church community through the Invite Welcome Connect ministry of the Episcopal Church.