This Old Church Straps On Its Tool Belt
Many congregations seek creative ways to cover costs of bringing 19th-century houses of worship into conformity with building codes for 21st century
After a windstorm, members of Dorchester Temple Baptist Church in Boston scurry around the lawn picking up roof shingles. After heavy rains, parishioners gather in the basement to pump out the inch of water that covers the linoleum.Skip to next paragraph
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When the damage gets this bad, some churches simply call for the wrecking ball. But the parishioners of this 110-year-old, wood-shingle church have decided to dig into their pockets, roll up their sleeves, and start rebuilding. And they are not afraid to ask for help.
"It's going to require grants, a capital campaign, and a lot of prayer," says the Rev. Craig McMullen, co-pastor of the church, who estimates the project's final cost could reach $1 million. "But we can't wait for the building to reflect the beauty of its people, and we know it will, God willing."
Across the country, tens of thousands of churches and synagogues face a similar problem: how to bring 18th- and 19th-century buildings up to 21st-century safety codes. For many houses of worship, it would take a lifetime of collection plates to install fire sprinklers and wheelchair ramps, remove asbestos insulation, and replace electrical, heating, and plumbing systems.
"It's clear that the enormous need for renovation is facing congregations of all persuasions," says Robert Jaeger, executive director of Partners for Sacred Spaces, a national church restoration group based in Philadelphia. "In Philadelphia alone, there are 800 to 1,000 church buildings in need of major repairs."
Anchors of stability
The disrepair of America's churches is rousing a growing chorus of officials and citizens who say these venerable buildings are worth saving. Some churches are architectural gems in their own right, but even those of more pedestrian design often represent an important link between a community's past and its present. This historical value, added to their role as social-service provider, makes the church an anchor of stability in a city's ever-changing landscape.
"Most of us walk by a grand old church and look up at the spires and admire the beauty," Mr. Jaeger says. "But behind the walls, there may be a day-care center, or a public concert, or a homeless shelter that serves local needs."
Keeping churches upright can be difficult, however, especially in the inner-city. During the past 30 years, vast numbers of urban parishioners have retreated to the suburbs, leaving many pastors with the unsavory decision to close.
'A modern-day miracle'
For the Nativity Lutheran Church in Philadelphia, closing seemed inevitable. By 1991, the membership had shriveled to 20. The church itself, a Gothic stone structure that dates to 1898, required tens of thousands of dollars' worth of repairs. Consultants suggested demolition.
But leaders of the Acts Assembly of God Church had other plans. With $50,000 in donations and $80,000 in loans, they bought the church and got to work. They replaced the roof, installed new heating and plumbing systems, and began the long process of conserving the stained-glass windows.