www.thegospelcoalition.org
Rebuilding for Renewal: The Importance of Sacred Spaces in Our Cities
I grew up hearing that “the church is the people, not the building.” And while that’s technically true (the church is the redeemed people of God), the statement came within a broader theology—sometimes stated, sometimes implied—that treated the material realm as secondary and focused instead on souls. Having spent most of my life going to church in (rented) schools, it was easy for me to champion the church’s spiritual nature and downplay the role of buildings.
This way of thinking, however, isn’t rooted in Scripture but in Greek Gnosticism—a perspective that sees bodies, buildings, and even creation as insignificant in light of spiritual realities.
In Scripture, it’s clear that God cares about the whole creation: not just souls but bodies, not just heaven but earth. The biblical story isn’t about escaping this world; it’s about God renewing it. From the beginning, God’s promises have included a people and a place. What does this mean for church buildings? What role do physical spaces play in God’s mission?
I want to offer a vision of sacred space in God’s kingdom. Yes, the church is the people of God. But they’re an embodied people who inhabit space and are called to represent God’s reign wherever they go—places that echo the beauty, peace, and holiness of the kingdom, where heaven and earth meet and where God’s presence is made known.
Biblical Vision of Place
From the Bible’s first page, it’s clear that God’s plan involves a people (Adam and Eve) and a place (the Garden of Eden). The vision, however, wasn’t for our first parents to merely relax in the garden but to multiply and expand Eden’s borders to the ends of the earth.
After the fall, God’s plan continues with a promise to Abraham that includes both a people (his descendants would become a great nation) and a place (the promised land), not as separate realities but as a united vision. God’s people were always meant to inhabit space, to be planted somewhere, and to be a blessing from that place to the nations.
From the beginning, God’s promises have included a people and a place.
Throughout Scripture, place matters. Much of the Old Testament’s plot line is about the promised land, whether journeying toward it, dwelling within it, or being exiled from it. The tabernacle, and later the temple, provided a tangible, sacred space where heaven met earth, where sacrifices were made to atone not just for the people but for the land itself.
Then came Jesus, the true temple, the very presence of God in human flesh. His crucifixion tore the temple curtain in two, signifying that God’s presence was no longer confined to a single location. Yet, rather than abolishing sacred space, Jesus’s resurrection affirmed the material world. His physical, resurrected body is the beginning of the new creation—a sign that God isn’t abandoning this world but restoring it. The end goal throughout the Bible is not an escape to heaven but the renewal of heaven and earth (Rev. 21:1–3). In union with our Savior, the church is called to represent God’s reign and cultivate sacred spaces where heaven and earth overlap.
Importance of Church Buildings
If God cares about people and place, then church buildings matter. They aren’t just useful spaces for gathering; they’re outposts of God’s kingdom. More than mere brick and mortar, church buildings can be sacred spaces set apart for God’s purposes. No matter what’s going on in the surrounding areas, Christians can say, “This space isn’t just a building—it’s a foretaste of the kingdom, where love reigns, dignity is restored, the weary are embraced, and grace overflows.”
Far too often, modern Christians have prized efficiency over beauty. But architecture can help us to gaze on the beauty of the Lord (Ps. 27:4). Vaulted ceilings lift our eyes toward transcendence. Columns stand tall as pillars of strength, reminding us that the church is upheld by truth and grace. Stained glass windows flood the space with a kaleidoscope of color, transforming ordinary light into something radiant and awe-inspiring. Perhaps the greatest example of sacred space, stained glass doesn’t merely display an image—it alters our vision. The light shining through these windows reminds us that when we gather as the church, we don’t merely see Christ; we see everything in light of him.
Whatever forms a church possesses––stained glass, expansive ceilings, white walls, a high pulpit––physical spaces help shape us into the worshippers God would have us be.
Tragedy of Closing Churches and the Gift of a Building
All across America, churches are closing and their buildings are being sold. These once-sacred spaces, set apart for worship, are becoming something else entirely. In my neighborhood in Los Angeles, a Latino storefront church is now a marijuana dispensary. A historic Methodist church has been converted into a Buddhist temple. A Korean church is now an art studio. Each time a church building is lost, it isn’t just a change in real estate—it’s a loss of sacred space in the city, a retreat of visible gospel presence.
The church I pastor, Reality LA, started in 2006, and we didn’t own property for our first 13 years. We’ve gathered on Sundays in an elementary school, a middle school, and a high school, and rented office space all over Los Angeles. And we certainly felt the limitations of not having space of our own. We lacked a sense of rootedness, space for ministry, and a way to tangibly serve our city.
So we started praying.
In God’s grace, another church in our city with a small congregation and significant food ministry approached us with the idea of joining together for God’s kingdom. We adopted the congregants into our church, inherited two buildings (a small church building and an office building), and received an incredible ministry providing daily meals to our unhoused neighbors in East Hollywood. Now, while we still meet in a high school on Sunday mornings, we have a home for our church and a hub of renewal for our city throughout the week. We have office space, room for discipleship and fellowship events, and a concrete way to serve our city.
Buildings as Kingdom Tools
In the several years since we first inherited these buildings, I’ve reflected much on their significance. Getting a building isn’t a silver bullet and doesn’t solve all your problems. In fact, our buildings are in poor condition, and we’re currently running a capital campaign for significant renovations. But despite the headaches of broken pipes and a leaky roof, I can’t underestimate how significant it has been for us as a church to have our own buildings.
I’ve come to see that a church building is more than a convenience—it’s a tool for mission, a sign of stability, and a witness to the gospel in the heart of a city. A church without a building can still thrive, but having a place to call our own has deepened our ability to live out our calling. On the corner of Fountain Avenue and Edgemont Street, we preach the Word and feed the hungry. We don’t just talk about community; we create spaces where the lonely find belonging. We don’t simply long for renewal; we embody it in a physical place, welcoming all who enter.
A church without a building can still thrive, but having a place to call our own has deepened our ability to live out our calling.
Yes, the church is the people, but we’re an embodied people who inhabit real places. In a city like Los Angeles—where everything feels transient and disjointed—having a permanent presence is a powerful declaration that God’s kingdom is here, now, and among us. A church building isn’t just a structure; it’s a signpost of hope, a reminder that God is making all things new. And as we steward these spaces with care, beauty, and purpose, we participate in God’s mission, making earth feel more like heaven as God’s presence is on full display.
Cultivating Sacred Space in Everyday Life
This vision of sacred space isn’t just about church buildings. It’s about cultivating space in every aspect of life. God calls us to plant gardens in the wilderness, to create beauty in a broken world, and to establish places of peace amid chaos. Whether in a home, a community center, or a workplace, every Christian is called to cultivate a space where God’s presence is experienced.
The world needs sacred spaces—places where the kingdom is embodied, our worship shapes our imaginations, the weary find rest. May we steward these places well, knowing they aren’t ends in themselves but glimpses of the renewed world to come.