“The subconscious importance of aesthetics” or “Are flighty parishoners on to something?”

I must admit that I’m not all that into Sunday morning church services these days. So when a series of Powerpoint slides (yay) began to play in front of the congregation yesterday, I only paid half attention — at best.

The slides, as I recall, exhorted people in the pews to give something to God during the service, not expect something from it. In other words, don’t complain about the music or the color of the carpet; just sing and pray and give back to God.

Of course, I may be butchering the meaning of the slideshow — only paying half-attention and all — but that’s beside that point here. The point here is the thought that struck me towards the end of the announcement: “What if there’s something to people’s expressed (or unexpressed) distaste for certain aspects of a church service or building?”

What if such complaints are an affirmation of the importance of beauty, of aesthetics?

Generally speaking, I don’t condone church-hopping on account of ugly carpet or even redundant praise and worship music (a pet peeve of mine); as we all know thanks to countless email forwards laden with Christianese, “There’s no such thing as a perfect church.” But the fact is that our environment does influence us and music is an enigmatically powerful art. The fact also remains that different people will always own different aesthetics, and attempting to satisfy all at the same time is unrealistic.

How do we reconcile or approach personal aesthetics within a community setting such as a church? Perhaps we poll people:

Circle the color of carpet you prefer:

Navy
Aqua
0000FF
Turquoise
Royal blue
Cornflower blue

I’ve quoted Architect Daniel Lee before, and I’ll do it again here:

“It is possible to worship God in a gymnasium or lecture hall, because if people are truly seeking him, God will meet them there. But to worship in such architecture is to suggest that our purpose is either recreational or cerebral. We should build spaces crafted specially for a human-divine encounter with God.”

Or, it seems to me, perhaps we shouldn’t build sacred spaces at all. New Testament instruction dictates that we as Christ-followers regularly assemble. It doesn’t say where or how often or how many songs to sing — or necessarily to sing at all — to my knowledge.

Adding: As smitten as I am with the idea of house churches, my interest in the visual environment and architecture supersedes my suggestion that we forgo church buildings altogether. I believe they can, in appropriate cultural context, serve as a witness to the surrounding community as well as significantly encouraging — if well-considered — meditation and communion with our Holy God.