In November, the members of Old South Church in Hallowell, Maine gathered in a congregational meeting and voted to put the church’s sanctuary building up for sale. The church community had spent a great deal of time considering our various issues and problems and trying to devise some sort of solution to the growing problem of maintaining and sustaining two separate— aging and needy— buildings. At some point, it became clear that the best way forward was to put the sanctuary building up for sale, since it is the building in more need of repair while it also possesses problems that cannot be easily solved— the building is nestled into a hillside, making it difficult to access, even for the very mobile; it has only a couple of parking spots immediately adjacent to the building, with no space to add new spots; and, the sloped sanctuary floor (stadium seating!) is problematic for anyone in a wheelchair as well as those who are even a little unsteady on their feet.

The not so unexpected, but still frustrating, problem that has arisen from the vote in November is this: there are too many people who refer to our “selling of the church.” We have people who will say things like, “It’s a shame that it’s come to this, that we need to sell the church.” Or, “I’m disappointed, but I understand why it’s necessary that we sell the church.”

WE ARE NOT SELLING THE CHURCH!

Whenever I correct someone, reminding them that we are not, in fact, selling “the church,” that we are selling the sanctuary building and that there’s a big difference, they usually respond with a sound of annoyance and a “you know what I mean.” Yes, I know what they mean, but I also know that words matter. In this instance, it’s crucial that we get the language right. Not only are we not “selling the church,” but we are actually making decisions that will allow the church, if we are able to sell the sanctuary building, to exist longer into the future.

By keeping both buildings, we would need to drain our resources in a serious and precipitous way. The basic maintenance for both buildings is significant, but certainly more for the sanctuary building. Add needed renovation costs and Old South’s future is looking a lot more precarious. We would not only be “selling the church,” but closing it. If we can sell the sanctuary building, we can extend our existence for a much longer period of time.

Words matter here. They matter to how we think of ourselves, as individuals and as a group. They matter to how we perceive our call, how we endeavor to live out our faith. They matter to how we share the Good News of Jesus Christ.

Jesus did not call on his followers to build big, grand buildings in order to worship him, to feel more closely drawn to God. Buildings in which the faithful gather can be extraordinarily beautiful and awe-inspiring. Buildings can help people connect to the divine. Still, the building is not the church. 

The church is made up of the people who gather within its walls. There’s no question that it’s nice to have a convenient place where we can gather and it’s even nicer when that space can be described as beautiful. But the building is significantly and importantly not the church. 

We’ll see how this plays out in our process. I hope that as we follow this path, more people will grasp the significance of the people being the church, while also gaining an appreciation that the words we use matter as we talk about ourselves as a church, as the Body of Christ. Our words reflect our knowledge of and connection to who we are and to whom we belong. In this holiday season, it is even more important to embrace that it’s the characters who count and not the structures in which they congregate. The manger didn’t do anything to share the Good News of birth. It was the people who gathered there.