Every Church is a Conservative Church (Even Your Liberal One)

Churches that hold liberal views on theology, sexuality, and politics are still deeply conservative institutions. This truth--generally understood, but often unspoken--is something that has me concerned.

It's no indictment to call an institution "conservative." I respect Burkean conservativism--a conservatism that rejects ideology, favors slow incremental change in large-scale social institutions, is humble and pragmatic, and appropriately honors the wisdom of tradition. Conservatism is essential for long-term social stability. You could argue that America, as an institution, is deeply conservative--politically, economically, even socially.

Liberal churches, including my own liberal congregation, often don't recognize how deeply conservative we are. The problem is our buildings. Is there anything more conservative than a brick-and-mortar building? Buildings occupy huge portions of church budgets and, more importantly, effectively define what the institution is, does, and aspires to become. Church leaders ask: "can we fill this building?" Can we get more bodies in the worship space, more in classrooms, etc? All questions that uncritically accept our property as the location--and prime mover--of our ministry.

Ironically, "conservative" church have been much less tied to buildings in the last two decades, allowing theologically conservative and highly innovative new church developments to spring up, especially in cities with costly real estate markets. This difference accounts for much of why liberal churches feel "conservative" and conservative churches feel so "liberal."

Liberal churches have got to get out from underneath our buildings. If we don't, our definitions of success (ie, growing our congregations, meeting our budgets, and paying for our buildings and their periodic upgrades), will force us (as it has done for much of the last half of the 20th century) to ignore the underlying (and problematic) structural inequality of the communities in which our churches were birthed. Is our church located in an economically stratified section of town? How does the building's location shape the profile of the congregants--who is visible? How does the location of the building shape the way the church "hears" the gospel? The uncritical maintenance of place-based ministry forces the church leadership to accommodate to the brutal economics of church growth and--consciously or not--forces church leaders to become beholden to wealthy donor (who themselves have, in their personal and professional lives, accommodated to a Darwinian approach to institutional survival). Does the liberal church's love of our buildings inevitably mute our criticism of economic exploitation? We don't preach the gospel, nor do our churches look like the "commonwealth of God" that Jesus loved at the cost of his life.

The church based around the building is a deficient model. A more faithful calling for the church is to model the beloved community letting capital expenses serve, rather than drive, the mission.

I'm arguing here against Amy Butler's recently popular thesis that the whole church IS mission and also against the gross rationalization that so many of us engage in when we say that our massive and expensive building projects are "worth it."

One way to break out of this trap is, as church leaders, to ask the question: what would our church be like if we didn't have our building? Ask it with your leadership teams if you aren't asking it already. Take baby steps toward that vision. Become less building-dependent every year. One day, you might find that the structure that once drove all of your decisions, is dispensable, and that your life together is far less conservative... and far more like Jesus'.