Episcopal Church Foundation Vestry Papers - for leading congregations

The question at our church is not who has a key to the building – but rather, who doesn’t?

We’ve joked that we can’t change the locks; we’d have to order enough keys for the entire town.

Our church facility is in constant use in its small, Midwestern county seat. Addiction recovery groups use it more than a dozen times each week, the Red Cross collects blood in the fellowship hall, gardening groups gather in the parlor, and Habitat for Humanity plans its next build in the music room.

Many of our Episcopal churches across the country are architectural wonders – yet they face an uncertain future as deferred maintenance and needed renovations seriously strain the coffers. For some, our buildings have become an albatross, draining our attention from mission and ministry. 

But these buildings – if they’re allowed to be – can also become tools for transformation. 

For me, this was never more apparent than on Friday. 

In the morning, a camera crew from NBC set up in the fellowship hall to cover a group meeting about the prescription drug epidemic in southeastern Ohio. This group began meeting at the church 18 months ago and has grown to include representatives from law enforcement, counseling agencies, the health department, local and state government and area churches. 
Last year, nine prescriptions of painkillers like Oxycontin and Vicodin were written for every man, woman and child in the county – enough to earn the dubious ranking within the DEA as one of the top ten counties in the nation for prescription drug trafficking. 

This group is committed to taking its community back, and the NBC team plans to air the story on its affiliate channel, A&E, sometime in April. 

As that meeting winded down, ladies began working in the kitchen for a luncheon to follow a community worship service honoring the World Day of Prayer. Meanwhile, a man in a dirty T-shirt knocked on the door, asking to see the pastor. He wondered if he could get some help turning his water back on. 

The Altar Guild arrived mid-afternoon to set up for the visitation on Sunday with the bishop. Supplies for the pancake breakfast were delivered and stacked on the counters, and the parish administrator pulled out the purple and green Mardi Gras decorations. 

That evening, bicycles leaned against the brick building, and 12-passenger vans parked in the lot. The aroma of coffee filtered outside, as about 75 men and women gathered inside for an AA meeting in a building that dates to 1833. 

Maintaining the building is expensive. In the past few months, the water heaters died, the roof needed repairs, and the toilet in the men’s bathroom took a turn as a fire hose, spraying the floor and the users each time it flushed. 

It’s expensive, no doubt. But for this place – and this community, shutting the doors would come at a much greater cost.