The unveiling had been spectacular. Everything had finally fallen into place. After three years of negotiating with the city about zoning restrictions, two years of aggressive fundraising, 18 months of arguing with neighbors who didn’t want a church in their backyard, and a five-time delayed construction process, the building was finally done. The excitement in the new lobby was palpable and there were hundreds of unfamiliar faces. Surely this is what it must have felt like to enter into the Promised Land after 40 years of committee meetings in the desert. Little did the senior pastor know that this day would mark the beginning of the end for him. This great day had been hoped for, longed for, planned for – and now it was here. How could it be an end rather than a new beginning for this large, affluent, suburban church’s senior pastor?

Last year, thousands of churches in our country built buildings to accommodate growth, appeal to a new or younger crowd, or rid themselves of dangerous and outdated facilities. The best estimate is that we spent $6 billion dollars on church construction. That is billion with a "B" and nine zeros. To accomplish this ardent task, pastors have had to go well beyond their preaching and shepherding skills. They have had to learn the art of fundraising, the skill of architectural design, and the craft of city negotiation. They have had to become real-estate brokers, interior designers and construction foremen.

During the course of the fundraising, design, and building processes, the role of a pastor changes dramatically. They must become so much more than the standard leader in order to see the project through to completion. In the meantime, they must also continue to teach, lead and inspire. Many would say that they have to do these things to an even greater degree during the process. There is no doubt that a church building project takes a lot of hard work and determination. To be truly successful, it also takes an overwhelming compelling vision.

In our work with churches of all kinds and sizes, my fellow consultants and I are most surprised to discover that the average congregant cannot tell you what their church’s compelling vision is. They cannot tell you what the mission is, what the purpose is or what their pastor spoke about last Sunday. Many would say that it is simply because we are too busy. This may be, but that seems like the easy, comfortable answer. What if the real answer is we don’t know what our church’s compelling vision is because we do not have one? Churches can survive and even thrive without one. If we have a solid kids’ program and dynamic youth program – our churches will be growing. If our pastor is a relevant communicator and our worship is uplifting – our churches will be growing. If our building is modern, clean, bright and inviting – our churches will be growing. None of these things, however, is compelling vision.

One step beyond not being able to articulate their church’s compelling vision is a congregation’s belief that if their church ceased to exist, their neighbors would realize it or miss them. In other words, not only do we not have a compelling vision, the vision we do have does not make it beyond our church walls.

Exposing the Culprit

These factors point towards a disturbing trend happening in churches across America. Churches are growing and need more space. Pastors and leaders are embarking upon the monumental task of raising millions of dollars, locating and buying land, building facilities and oftentimes, relocating a church. All of this takes time, effort and resources; as mentioned earlier, it also takes a compelling vision. But remember: most churches do not have a singular, clear, compelling vision. In the absence of one, what happens?

Many of you have already guessed it – while many more of you have already experienced it. The building becomes the compelling vision. It becomes the driving force for everything. Every ministry and program comes to rely upon the new building for its success. Every meeting, sermon series and drawing becomes about the building. Ultimately, the pastor becomes about the building. Their whole world is engulfed by it. And let’s face it, when it comes to casting vision, it’s easier to cast a vision using a computer-generated model on a DVD of the new facility than it is to inspire a local congregation to eradicate HIV/AIDS in Africa. It’s easier to raise money for a gym than for orphans. It’s easier to inspire people with a new lobby latte machine than to inspire people to give to something that has no tangible benefit for them.

In our culture, however, we need a place to call home. When I embarked upon my first fundraising campaign as a 27-year-old pastor, I was told something that forever altered how I perceived church buildings. One of my mentors said that a building was nothing more than a place to stand to change the world. In other words, the building is simply a means to an end. It is a tool to help us move towards our existing compelling vision.

When working with churches that are thinking about building, my favorite part of consulting comes when we gather the key leaders in a room and ask them to define the compelling reason for their church’s existence. At first, there is a quiet and awkward silence. There is an embarrassment that comes from not immediately knowing it. Then, the breakthrough moment comes when they begin to "get it." When they begin to realize that there is one overwhelming compelling vision.

No two churches are alike, even within denominations. Oftentimes, I’ve wanted them to be, but only because I was arrogant enough to think that I knew what all churches should be like. However, the more churches I consult, the more I am convinced of a very important truth: Churches are not meant to be duplicated. They are not meant to be twins or triplets. They are not even meant to be imitators. Each church has its own DNA or code. And while we can learn things from each other, we can never be like each other completely. The moment we attempt to do this, we are denying our own identities.

Our churches today are in an identity crisis. We spend too much time trying to figure out how another place has grown and been successful, and too little time trying to determine what single, significant role God has for us. What if every church in our country knew its unique God-given role? What would it be like if our neighbors knew what our church was about? What would your internal programming look like if you had one compelling reason for existence?

Identity Overload

My first church staff position was at a fairly large church in the suburbs. I began working there as an intern during college. Upon graduation, the church hired me full time to do a wide array of things. I was affectionately called "the pastor of everything nobody else wants to do." I worked there for several long and frustrating years. The church was only 35 years old, but had been through seven pastors. Each pastor came and went, leaving a bit of their mark on the church. The result was a church that had several identities. Many times, these personalities would be at war with each other. It was not an easy place to work.

Looking back, I realize that the church had begun with a very compelling vision. At its inception, the church was focused on missions. From the earliest days, they began training and sending out people all over the world. However, 35 years and seven pastors later, this identity had not been altered – but added to. Each pastor brought their own agenda, their own influence and their own plans. No one (staff or laity) ever asked if they were being true to the church’s DNA. No one asked if the church was being true to its singular reason for existence. No one asked what that compelling vision was. Instead, the solution was to hire and fire staff, start a new service, modify the Sunday school schedule, train more people in discipleship and yes, buy land and build a new facility. In the absence of a compelling vision and a clear identity, the existing building becomes the scapegoat for all our problems – and a new building becomes the solution to all our problems; it becomes the compelling vision.

Back to the Beginning

For some people, the first Sunday in a new building may be like entering the Promised Land, but it wasn’t all that great for Moses. Nor is it a great day for most pastors. For too many, it is the beginning of the end. For some, the nagging, back-of-the-mind question is, "Now what?" For others, there is the initial sigh of relief that is then followed by the increased stress from unprepared-for growth, new and untested staff, and those famous fundraising terms, "debt retirement" and "balloon payment." For others, it is an empty feeling that can lead to moral decay. I have spent time with many pastors who succumbed to temptation in the midst of this process. I have also spent too much time with pastors who said they would never do it again. They would never pastor another church that wanted to build a building.

I can’t help but wonder what it would be like for churches to build buildings because their compelling reason for existence required it. I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be part of a congregation where the average attendee could articulate the church’s DNA. I can’t help but wonder what it would be like for a church to raise millions of dollars for ministry and pay for a building from its general fund. Can’t help but wonder if building church buildings is killing our pastors.

Trevor Bron is a senior consultant with Tag Consulting, a transforming church consulting firm. Having served on a traditional church staff as well as planting a postmodern young-adult church, Bron brings a unique perspective to the churches and ministries he works with. His client list includes several nonprofit organizations such as  St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church in Newport Beach, Calif., Scum of the Earth Church  in Denver and West Chicago’s Good Shepherd Lutheran.