I was reading an article the other day in the magazine Ode about typical hospital architecture, and how it actually is detrimental to health. People who are ill and scared need something soothing, uplifting, easy to navigate, easy to find rooms, etc. And what are most hospitals like? Dark mazes! Confusing mazes that make a difficult situation even harder. There's a movement abroad to design hospitals to be an asset to healing instead of a detriment. This thought intrigues me. Our environment does make a huge difference in our attitudes and feelings of well-being. It seems like a no-brainer, but apparently different designs for hospitals are a new thought in the medical community.
It's made me think about the environment of the church building. What makes it welcoming, warm, inviting, comfortable, yet set apart for a special holy purpose? Are we just as clueless about these things? You get used to your environment, and don't really think about it anymore. You don't SEE anymore. So what do we need to see? I think we need something that makes it easier to know where things are when you walk in the doors. I think we need to reemphasize smiling faces and welcoming words at the doors. We need information to be easily accessable. But what is it that I'm not seeing? Of course, Jesus can be present and proclaimed in the darkest, nastiest back alley. Things don't have to be lovely for God to be present (where two or three are gathered...). But I do think that space dedicated to the Lord's service can aid in spiritual growth, or be a hindrance. Hmmmmm...
I'm going to ponder these things this summer. I probably won't be at this congregation a year from now (but who really knows except God!), so I'm hoping I can see things through different eyes as I prepare to take my leave. I love this congregation, and I hope to give them my best until the end. I want to be an asset during this time of transition, and not just a lame duck. Quack, quack!
No comments:
Post a Comment