This is the fourth in a series of Point Counterpoint debates in which a variety of Salvationists will explore two sides of an issue that is critical to Army mission.

Officership is not a career, but a covenant relationship designed for the long haul. Of course if we want people to sign up, we need to change our approach.

BY MAJOR WENDY SWAN

It may seem a no-brainer for someone in her 27th year of officer service to answer this question. Like others, I enjoyed a successful career in business prior to choosing officership. Since commissioning, have I ever been offered another career? Several times. Recently? Yes. Why then continue to commit to a lifetime of service as an officer?

Let me quickly affirm that much has been gained by the Church from using a business model in terms of management and stewardship of resources. I wonder, however, if we have inadvertently made a mistake in using business language to describe officership—specifically the use of the word “career.” Career speaks of experience and expertise that provide opportunity for power, independence, financial gain and “self.” Officership is not a career. More accurately, officership might be described as a “service path,” originating out of a covenant relationship with God and a vehicle within which to serve The Salvation Army.

The Army’s military terminology and imagery aside, ordination is not a new idea within the Church. It finds its roots in the Mendicant orders of the 13th century where groups of people offered themselves as a model of God active within a community. They took vows of obedience, poverty and chastity so that all of their time and energy could be expended on the religious work of preaching the gospel and serving the poor. Sound familiar?

Seven hundred years later, all Salvationists commit to evangelism, discipleship and service. Officers voluntarily choose additional covenant vows of obedience and simplicity of lifestyle. After more than 20 years in leadership development and training, I have yet to meet anyone who begins officership thinking, “Well, I’ll see how it goes.…” But statistics don’t lie—for an increasing number of people, the years of service as an officer are short.

Based on this reality, I’d like to ask another question: Under what conditions might the Army expect an individual to commit to a lifetime of service? Aside from the theological issue of covenant, I’d like to suggest some pragmatic components that facilitate productive “long-termers.”

Consultative Leadership: While we are making progress in consulting officers on a variety of issues, consultative leadership is more than asking officer personnel for thoughts or opinions regarding issues. These days, people not only want a voice, they want a vote. If people do not believe that their voice is truly heard and valued, they will vote with their feet. The best form of consultative leadership involves what I call “mature conversations,” discussions where deepest need and deepest passion intersect, where both parties recognize capacity and contribution as well as challenges and limitations. People choose to commit to the long term when what they experience in the short term tells them there is a future and they can envision their place in it.

Professional Development: Our Army provides a myriad of opportunities to fulfil one’s calling to serve community. While I’ve served in corps and social services, most of my officership has been in international education and training. We live in a world where accreditation and credentialing increasingly demand a high level of professionalism. While a growing number of people enter officership with extensive skills and education, it is critical that we adopt lifelong learning and equipping of officer personnel for present and future service. While limited financial resources will always be a factor, our strategic-planning lens must be one of “investment” and not “cost” at strategic points in an individual’s service.

Sabbatical Refreshment: I’m not talking about a year lounging on the beaches of Bali (as beautiful as they are!). Studies show that within the ministerial professions, frontline workers experience burnout regardless of how well they have attempted self-care. This is a particular danger for our movement as we expect 24/7 availability as well as multiple appointments from individuals. Are we guilty of abusing God’s grace when we ask people to commit to a lifetime and then fail to provide for the biblical precept of intentional re-creation? Several territories have in recent years implemented a variety of sabbatical forms. This is resulting in longer years of productive and energized service of officers. I’d love to see this become a reality here in Canada and Bermuda.

Consultative leadership, professional development, sabbatical refreshment—that sounds like an Army I’d want to sign up for—long term of course.

Major Wendy Swan is the extended learning program director at William and Catherine Booth College in Winnipeg.

Leadership in the Army is no longer one-size-fits-all. If we truly accept the “priesthood of all believers,” then we need opportunities for lay leaders to take a greater role.

BY MAJOR IAN SWAN

It is entirely reasonable to expect that officership will be a lifelong commitment. After all, it’s not a calling to a particular service path or vocation, but rather a covenanted life—or, to use the language of the Church, a joining of holy orders. The question we should ask ourselves is whether or not officership is a prerequisite for spiritual leadership.

Given our belief in the “priesthood of all believers,” the response seems obvious to me. However, our tradition of reserving certain roles and functions for officers seems to call our belief into question.

Throughout Africa, the ever increasing number of converts and soldiers necessitates the appointing of lay leaders. Constraints faced by territories in the training of officers make it impossible to produce an officer for every ministry unit. These lay leaders are selected on the basis of their spiritual maturity, competency and potential for future development. While considered a local officer, these individuals do not fill the traditional local officer positions but rather take on the role and function of the officer appointed to lead a particular ministry unit. These lay leaders serve on officer terms, but only for a specific time of service.

This practice replicates the early methodology of John Wesley. Having formed a small group of believers who studied and prayed together, he would then appoint a leader to encourage and monitor the group. The leader would be provided with organizational instructions and a small library of books to encourage their development and capacity. Wesley never intended these leaders to be ordained or take on the vestments of clergy.

For the first time, the Canada and Bermuda Territory is faced with the reality of fewer active officers than there are retired officers. This means we may soon have more ministry units than officer personnel to serve them. Unless there is an increase in cadets entering the training college, the gap between the number of available officers and the number of ministry units requiring leadership will only grow.

It would seem that for many potential candidates, a lifelong commitment is not something they are prepared to make.

One solution might be to prioritize mission opportunities and then close ministry units that are only marginally productive but are high consumers of mission resources. Alternatively, a proactive recruitment of lay leaders for a contracted service period may attract willing hands to the task of discipleship and mission expansion. This approach has worked in Australia and Hong Kong. New corps and ministries have been built and, in time, handed over to officer personnel. Similarly, Africa heavily relies on its envoys (lay leaders) to minister to its many congregations. The contracts for these envoys are reviewed annually and are subject to divisional and territorial approval. This process provides great flexibility and control while encouraging performance reviews and evaluations to be based on mission achievement.

When it comes time to release these lay leaders from service many have asked: What is the advantage of appointing a commissioned officer rather than a lay leader?

The advantage of officer leadership over lay leadership lies not in the “priestly function and role” but rather in trained leadership ability. Let me give an example from the field of project development. When building a school, a leader oversees the overall project and its component parts. However, that leader will gladly welcome assistants who complete the various components, be it the foundation or roof. Similarly, in mission, where there is not long-term consistent leadership, the broader vision and individual objectives may be lost.

Lay leaders on contracted service would need to demonstrate capacity for their particular ministry appointment or take training which would equip them for the task. They should also be under the care and supervision of qualified, informed leaders who understand the mission objectives and can ensure that short-term mission leaders contribute to the whole.

Lay service contracts have existed for overseas appointments where need is recognized and local resources are lacking. Perhaps it is time we recognized the need in our own backyard and provided a means whereby willing hands may be encouraged to serve without requiring them to commit to a lifetime.

Major Ian Swan is the associate dean for extended learning at William and Catherine Booth College.

This is the third in a series of Point Counterpoint debates in which a variety of Salvationists will explore two sides of an issue that is critical to Army mission.

No, don’t intervene. Let’s welcome everyone, even if it makes us uncomfortable. Salvation Army worship has always been a bit chaotic.

BY MAJOR KAREN HOEFT

I have been invited to comment on a hypothetical situation that I have dubbed “The Sunday Morning Worship Blues.” We have a new family who doesn’t understand the unwritten, unspoken rules that govern the congregation so that everyone can have a pleasant worship experience. These rules seem simple enough: children should not run in the aisles and cellphones should remain off. At least those are the rules we will tell you for now. When you break another one, don’t worry … we’ll let you know.

Sunday morning, all across our territory, Christians gather to celebrate the good news of Jesus. We gather as communities of believers with many styles, forms and distinctions. Historically, The Salvation Army’s distinct characteristics were not just our uniforms and brass bands but our ability to “sacralize the secular” (Diane Winston, Red-Hot and Righteous). Much to the dismay of other denominations, the Army was able to provide an atmosphere that was both welcoming and familiar to those who didn’t fit in to more traditional worship services. We took what was common in the world and used it to promote the gospel message. Usually this came with lots of noise, movement, music and theatrics, both from the leaders and from the congregation.

The sounds of Salvation Army worship were a cacophony of music, shouts of joy, dynamic preaching, loud hallelujahs, shocking testimonials, halls filled with laughter and mercy seats lined with weeping sinners. Silence was rarely, if ever, found in a Salvation Army meeting. This was not an accident, but intentional. The mission was to bring the gospel message to the people in a way they could understand it. If they never came in the doors then they might never hear the message and be transformed by it. Early Salvationists believed that it was the gospel message, not the meeting, that would transform people.

Has The Salvation Army changed since then? Have we adopted the unwritten rules that we once avoided? Have we scripted the sounds, so that only “acceptable” ones are allowed? Who decides what sounds enhance worship and which detract from worship? Is a child’s laughter and tendency to be rambunctious good or bad? Cellphones, texting, reading e-mails on a Blackberry—or the use of any electronic device for that matter—what gets the thumbs up or thumbs down?

The Sunday Morning Worship Blues has been sung before and we’ll sing it again. Who writes the rules, who changes the rules, and why? Many say those who have been there the longest, since it is “their” congregation. Others say the leader or tradition or whoever has the most power.

As a corps officer I have heard the Sunday Morning Worship Blues many times: at corps council meetings, at visioning meetings, at one-on-one chats. My own journey has been one of intentionally leading to create an environment where anyone could feel welcome, familiar and comfortable. This is done first by example. I have to be OK with sounds and movement and maybe people not giving me their full attention. (Maybe that text message or phone call really was more important than what I had to say!) I’d rather invite attention than command it. Children are easily engaged, but are tough critics. They get easily distracted because they’re kids. They love music, they love to move and they love noise. A congregation full of children teaches us all about sound and life and joy. I think Jesus understood this.

We need the children; they are our lifeblood. Babies, crying and all, are a gift of new life. Toddlers, learning to walk and run, show growth. Youth asking questions, challenging the status quo, keep us thinking. Strangers coming in teach us about hospitality and help us not to get too set in our ways. Lives being transformed breathe the spirit of life back into our communities of faith.

I believe we need to work together to create environments where a mother doesn’t have to cringe every two minutes from the “looks” hurled her way when her baby cries out, where kids can be free to make a little noise and move around, where a family who comes in to hear how the gospel message is relevant to their lives will stay long enough to not just hear the message but be transformed by it.

What would I do in this situation? I would invite everyone to participate in the community of faith—from the youngest to the oldest, from the seekers to the stalwarts of the faith. We all need each other! We can truly see transformation of the heart—all hearts—and not just outward conformation to a set of unwritten rules about worship.

Major Karen Hoeft is assistant executive director and community relations at Winnipeg Booth Centre.

Yes, but there are more subtle ways to let them know. Ultimately, respect for the Word of God and the whole congregation must take precedence.

BY CAPTAIN ROB KERR

Life in community always brings with it a tension between the needs of the individual and what is best for the group. The challenge is finding the right balance between the two. In society this balance is regulated with laws, but in the life of a Christian congregation, the balance is governed by love. This is where it gets tricky, because when we deal with each other in love we don’t want to hurt or offend anyone. It gets even more complicated when we are dealing with a new individual or family. We want them to feel loved, we want to encourage them and help them grow spiritually. The issue at hand is: Do the needs of the individual (in this case a family) supersede the needs of the group as a whole?

Obviously, if this type of disruption happens once, or even once in a while, we should be able to accept the disruption and encourage and support this new family. But when the disruption becomes chronic it is the responsibility of the corps officer to consider the needs of the group as well as the individual. Taking action to curtail such disruptions does not necessarily mean direct confrontation with the family. In fact, I would suggest that be the last resort. There needs to be opportunity for the family to adjust their own behaviour first.

The first step a corps officer needs to take is to look at the situation, determine what kind of support this family needs and then ask: How can we support this family, address the disruptions and allow them to maintain their dignity? In the case of noisy children, are we providing nursery resources? Do parents know about them? Do they know they are available for their children, too, and not just for the “members”? Perhaps the person who is in charge of the nursery could introduce herself, explain what happens in the nursery or children’s program and encourage them to attend.

Cellphones can also be addressed in a proactive way. It is easy for anyone to forget to turn off their cellphone on any given Sunday. Rather than get annoyed that they forgot, make every effort to help them remember. Put a reminder in the bulletin or on the announcement slides before the service. Since some people don’t arrive in time to see the announcements or read the bulletin (if they are rushing in at the last minute they are likely flustered and more likely to forget to turn off their phone), remind them again before the message. Helping the family to learn what is disruptive to the group allows them to make their own adjustments.

If these types of efforts don’t work, then what? Do we let the family disrupt the service in the name of love and compassion? If so, what message does that convey?

Some would argue it demonstrates unconditional love and selfless giving by the congregation—and it does—but if the corps officer allows it to become the norm, the officer is also conveying the message that the service is not really that important. Movie theatres don’t tolerate cellphones or crying babies during the show. Is the Word of God less important than a movie? If we believe that the message preached is the Word of God and the preacher is the ordained messenger of God, then we must give it our full attention and we need to make sure everyone understands that.

I believe that Satan would like nothing better than for our worship services to be disorganized and full of disruptions because then nobody would hear the Word of God and certainly wouldn’t take it seriously. We must take worship and preaching seriously. If the officer knows and believes that, I don’t see how he or she could possibly allow a continual disruption of the service.

Should the officer risk losing this family by dealing directly with the disruptive behaviour? If every other means of addressing the situation has been exhausted, then yes. A corps officer’s responsibility is to ensure that the Word of God is preached in such a way as to be received and understood. This takes more than just diligent sermon preparation. It requires worship that points people to our Lord and requires an environment that is without distraction or disruption (to the best of our ability). We have this responsibility to the entire congregation. To do anything less would be negligent to the Word of God, our calling and our people.

Captain Rob Kerr is the corps officer at Scarborough Citadel in Toronto.

This is the second in a series of Point Counterpoint debates in which a variety of Salvationists will explore two sides of an issue that is critical to Army mission.

Yes, “tainted” money can be redeemed. Our concern is not with how the wealthy spend their money, but how we can stand in solidarity with the poor.

BY ROB PERRY

In this age of Lotto 649, Pro-line, 50-50 draws and PartyPoker.net, many of us know someone who has been adversely affected by gambling. Gambling addiction is a serious problem. However, this is not an argument as to the harmfulness or morality of gambling. Rather it is a discussion as to whether The Salvation Army’s integrity would be compromised by accepting donations that come from the proceeds of gambling.

Micah 4 tells of a future filled with peace, prosperity and joy. It speaks of nations that turn to God and others that don’t. The chapter concludes: “ ‘I will give you hooves of bronze, and you will break to pieces many nations.’ You will devote their ill-gotten gains to the Lord, their wealth to the Lord of all the earth” (Micah 4:13).

This is the culmination of Micah’s vision of Israel defeating its enemies and restoring peace. The plunder or “ill-gotten gains” of wicked nations will be taken by Israel and used for God’s glory. Something that was meant for evil can be transformed into something life-giving. As Joseph said to his brothers after they mistreated him, “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives” (Genesis 50:20). It’s about redemption.

The same was true for Zacchaeus, the diminutive tax collector whose life was changed when he encountered Jesus. Appropriately, Zacchaeus’ approach to finances reflected his new life: “Zacchaeus stood up and said to the Lord, ‘Look, Lord! Here and now I give half of my possessions to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount’ ” (Luke 19:8).

Jesus does not stand up and say, “Hold on, Zacchaeus. While I appreciate the sentiment, you earned your money cheating your own people and colluding with Rome; therefore it is tainted money, and it is wrong for you to give it to the poor.” Instead, Jesus is silent on the issue.

It’s about redemption, but also about identification. As The Salvation Army, do we align ourselves primarily with the wealthy individuals and corporations who donate, or do we mostly identify with the underprivileged who are the beneficiaries of these donations? If it is the donor, we must be careful to walk alongside them in truth, and be prophetic about how they should make and spend their money. However, I believe that The Salvation Army’s primary identification must be with the poor. It is our privilege to stand alongside the beneficiaries: the homeless, the addicted, the starving. While the Bible has much to say about how the rich should acquire and spend their wealth, it is decidedly quiet about where the poor should find their help.

As someone who lives and works in an underprivileged community, part of my job is to be a surrogate beggar, more commonly known as a fundraiser. When I have the privilege to rub elbows with wealthy individuals or corporations to whom my people have no access, I get to “beg” on their behalf. It is one of my least favourite parts of my job. It is humiliating to me (as begging always is), and if I am not careful, it can border on exploitation. Yet I do it because the people I am representing need the programs and help this money will offer. After all, the money I raise is not for me; I am just the middleman.

If I asked the people in my community if they were concerned whether or not program money comes from the proceeds of gambling, their reaction would be confusion and incredulity. Most of them receive aid from other social service providers that are funded in part by gambling. Some of them even dream about the vast sums they will donate to The Salvation Army when they win the lottery. They do not care where our money comes from any more than a beggar on the streets of Jerusalem would have cared where Zacchaeus got the money to put in his cup. And nowhere in the Bible does God tell them they should worry about it.

When William Booth was criticized about receiving “tainted money” from wealthy donors, he replied, “We will wash it in the tears of the widows and the orphans and lay it on the altar of humanity.” In his words we find identification with the poor and redemption for the lost. Instead of piously turning aside proceeds from gambling, we can accept the gift, pray for the giver and use the money for the good of the poor.

Rob Perry is the ministry co-ordinator at Corps 614 in Regent Park, Toronto.

No, accepting gambling funds is hypocritical and weakens our prophetic voice. When it comes to gambling, our words must match our actions.

BY CAPTAIN RICK ZELINSKY

My counterpart in the “yes” camp has invoked our Founder’s words about cleansing filthy, sinful dollars in the tears of the poor. If only the issue of taking gambling dollars were that easy. But the practical benefit of accepting gambling revenue clashes with the Army’s ethical stance and covenantal relationship.

My previous corps in Williams Lake, B.C., was positioned across the street from the city’s only bingo hall. It was disheartening to see people lining up to gamble away their money only to end up crossing the street for assistance with food. Our corps was a sign of hope; the bingo hall a sign of hopelessness.

When asked about the Army’s stance on gambling, I would always reply, “My family will not go hungry if I spend a loonie or even $20 a week on the lottery, but our people lining up for bingo will. So, as Christians, we choose to abstain.” I say “we” because our faith is more than a personalized shopping list of choices—it is the life of the body of Christ, the Church lived out in community.

We must continually ask what it means to live as Jesus’ followers. When we accept gambling funds, do we fund our services on the backs of those we seek to save? Are we complicit in the deception that gambling leads to wealth and happiness?

Perhaps a better question is, Are we taking full advantage of our prophetic voice to the community? Theologian John Howard Yoder notes that it’s hard for the Church to be prophetic when it’s tied to government dollars. Without a clear distinction between church and state, writes Yoder, “Social ethics means not what everyone should think and do about social questions, but what people in power should be told to do with their power.” Christian “morality” becomes another means by which the state enforces its will.

Refusing gambling money signals our unwillingness to collaborate with a corrupt system. As Yoder puts it, we must not “use unworthy means even for what seems to be a worthy end.” This strengthens our solidarity as a covenanted people and maintains a consistent testimony to the world.

It should be noted that the biggest beneficiary from gambling in Canada is our government. Revenue from gambling helps fund our health care and education. Does that mean I’m complicit in gambling if I visit the doctor or go to school? Of course not. Christians have to live in the world. We can’t reduce our hospital stay by 20 percent in protest. We can, however, approach our local school boards and offer to help with fundraising that doesn’t involve gambling to reduce dependency on those funds.

At a minimum, the Army should refuse grants from gambling revenues. In our community, receiving such a grant would have given permission to the Lottery Corporation to advertise our organization as a recipient. Translation? Bingo dollars are good for the community and social work agencies. There are strings attached to those dollars and a price to be paid.

So how do we compete in the non-profit marketplace without relying on gambling? It sounds easy, but the answer is faith. God doesn’t ask us to accomplish what he cannot provide for. James tells us “we have not because we ask not,” and the gospel writers remind us to “ask and it will be given.” This doesn’t mean we “hunker in our bunker” and wait for the cash, but if we are doing all we can, then God will provide.

Part of our prophetic stance requires us to recommit our time and resources to God’s work. In most corps, the majority of funding comes from a small percentage of the congregation. Fewer and fewer corps in this territory are self-supporting. Many corps that struggle financially may be tempted to take the tainted money just to survive. The best way to stave off temptation is to redouble our generosity.

In Williams Lake, our corps took a public stance against bringing a casino to the city. We called on local government to take the high road for the sake of all its citizens. A building contractor for the casino told me, “Rick, I think you’re out of your mind on this—but I gotta hand it to you, you’re consistent.”

May our words always match our actions.

Captain Rick Zelinsky is the director of field education at the College for Officer Training in Winnipeg. Visit www.cfot.ca.

This is the first in a series of Point Counterpoint debates in which a variety of Salvationists will explore two sides of an issue that is critical to Army mission.

Yes, keep our buildings. But let’s open them up to the community and attract newcomers.

BY LIEUTENANT PETER LUBLINK

There was a time not long ago when I argued that we needed to sell a lot of our church buildings. I saw so many of them lying dormant and neglected. The problem was empty, unused buildings. My solution was to sell off our property assets and use the revenue for other important Army priorities.

Even after arriving in Victoria as corps officer at High Point Community Church a little over a year ago, I still had the urge to sell our corps building. After all, it was underutilized and had fallen into major disrepair. But instead of selling the building, our congregation worked side-by-side to renovate the space, making it more functional. Some professional contractors were involved, but much of the work was done by volunteers. The same people who sang on Sundays, swung hammers on Mondays.

In the same month that we began to renovate, a number of community organizations came to us looking for rental space. The partnership seemed obvious. We had space and they needed it. The city of Victoria wanted to use our church as a location to house the homeless on the coldest nights of the year. Our building became not only a source of revenue, but an asset to the community. We discovered the solution to an empty and expensive building is not to sell it, but to make better use of it.

Suddenly, our church was filled with activity, sometimes for 24 hours, as people slept in the multi-purpose room at night, and met for a youth café in the evening and daycare during the day.

When the Army bought our current building from another long-standing church in the community, we moved in quietly and tried not to make much noise. We wanted to respect the neighbours and not become a nuisance. Then one day a neighbour complained, asking why the church bells weren’t being rung anymore. Even those who didn’t attend church wanted to hear the bells. Now, we ring the bells every Sunday morning to announce that the people of God are gathering.

With a building as architecturally “church-like” as ours, it’s no surprise that people also drop by every Sunday morning to see what church is all about. They can hear the music playing, they can hear the bells, but the building itself is also unmistakably a church. Many visitors seek prayer or physical help, and some have stayed and become part of our congregation.

Last summer we hosted a community block party where 200 neighbours enjoyed live music, food and fun. Many asked for a tour of our sanctuary. They were curious about what took place inside our building. Just last week yet another of those neighbours joined us for corporate worship.

The cry to stop spending money on church properties comes from many sides. And truthfully, I used to be one of those voices. But when we start seeing our buildings as community assets lent to us by God in order to bless others, the investment in maintenance seems a small price to pay.

In the last year, our congregation has grown substantially. Of course, we can’t take credit for what God does in the hearts of his people, but much of that growth has been because of how we have used our building. Some people have walked by and been curious; others have asked for rental space; some have slept on the floor to escape the cold. Now they are part of our congregation.

As we move forward as an Army in this city, we plan to continue to use our building to the fullest capacity. In the next month, for example, we are hosting a Christian conference and a major rock concert, partnering with another community organization to help mothers struggling with addictions, and will again house those with no home on the coldest nights. I thank God that those who have gone before us did not sell our building in the midst of tough times. Much of what we do now simply could not happen had we sold the property.
Every Salvation Army-owned building around the world bears the words “dedicated to the glory of God.” In the moment of dedication, a song is often song. Here is one verse that defines how we must continue to use our buildings to the glory of God:

Here may the lost find refuge,
The striving saint find grace;
Let youth obey your calling
And children see your face;
May every word here spoken
Direct men to your throne,
And every note of music
Be for your praise alone.
(SASB 943)

Lieutenant Peter Lublink is the corps officer at High Point Community Church in Victoria. Visit www.pointful.ca

No, buildings are too expensive. The church must go where the people are.

BY MAJOR BOB ARMSTRONG

Admittedly there are days when I am tired or the weather is so miserable that I entertain the thought of having a church building. But these thoughts are short-lived. For three years, The Willows has operated as a portable community church out of a local school. Our weekly routine has consisted of picking up the 24-foot trailer that holds all of our worship gear and driving it to the school, unloading it and setting up in the gym, packing up again and loading the gear back in the trailer, and returning it to its parking spot. Believe me, I understand the disadvantages of not having a church building. However, I would also argue that not having a fixed roof over our heads has plenty of advantages. Allow me to pose a few questions.

Is a church building the best value for our dollar? One statistical review suggests that the typical church building absorbs 40-60 percent of the annual budget. Who can carry the cost of a building these days? Just think of the money you could put toward additional staff to improve the quality of programs or broaden the ministry base, including missions and outreach to the disenfranchised. Not having to pay for utilities, maintenance staff, supplies or a new roof can be liberating.

Is a church building the best way to build community within? The church is not about a building, it’s about people. Although miserable weather may dampen our excitement from time to time, setting up and packing up for church each week clearly builds community. Many hands participate, giving people a sense of ownership and pride in what we do.

Community is also built because we are forced to meet in homes for Bible studies, movie nights, youth groups and other social events. In our case, we have also been given free access to a refurbished barn where we hold events too big for our homes and too small to require the rental of another facility.

In some churches, the building becomes a symbol of financial and managerial success. However, our school experience has been a time of spiritual blessing. When moving into a new facility, congregations risk losing something valuable. People’s roles change. Some give to the building fund with strings attached and are upset when what they had hoped for doesn’t materialize. Others feel their financial contribution should entitle them to more say in the church. Bricks and mortar start to come between us.

Is a church building the best way to connect with the outside community? Because our philosophy of church is much broader than Sunday morning services, we consider Saturday night bowling, for example, as part of church. This philosophy of ministry has led us to hold community events on community territory. This gives people direct exposure to our church. Meeting in a local school is also less threatening for those who, for whatever reason, may not feel comfortable in a church building.

Our associate pastor runs soccer camps on the school grounds, which exposes our faith community to the public. The school principal has asked us to organize extracurricular activities for a specific age group that she is concerned about. And the Parents’ Advisory Council requested our help serving food at the school’s sports day. Regular contact with the school builds relationships between teachers, students and their parents.

These days, many churches are renting their buildings to outside groups to offset maintenance expenses. In the past, my strategy for renting the church building to outside groups was the same as the grocery-store owners—strategically put the milk in the back corner of the store so people are tempted to buy other items as they walk by. I hoped people using the church building would see the bulletin boards, pick up our advertisements and decide to check us out.

But what if we reversed this strategy? What if we didn’t have the concerns of paying for upkeep? What if we didn’t have to shoulder the responsibility of having to be a landlord in order to finance the church? What if we went into our community’s territory with the hope that our witness would encourage them to join our faith community? This idea almost sounds like the Early Church. They went where the people were.

A Bigger Question: When we first searched for a facility for our new church plant to meet in, we realized there were none. Every school in our city already had a church in it. Today the cost of land and building a facility is so high that it’s not even on our radar. But cost is not the only reason we do not have a church building. You can’t beat being smack dab in the middle of a residential area where families walk to church, pushing their children in strollers. I think there is a bigger question that we need to ask: If the doors of our church suddenly closed, would the community know we were gone?

Major Bob Armstrong is the corps officer at The Willows—A Community Church of The Salvation Army in Langley, B.C.