So far, he’s lost 36 of the 100 pounds he’s promised to shed for the “Building a Church, Pound by Pound” capital campaign for the new St. Raphael the Archangel Church in Old Mill City, Illinois. Parishioners have pledged money for every pound their pastor loses. Some have begun dieting themselves and collecting additional pledges. With that money, matched by a donor, St. Raphael’s stands to raise at least $110,000 and get healthier, too.

“Everything about the church we are building is unique,” Jamnicky says of the new structure, which will incorporate the exterior and interior of two closed churches. “And everything we’re doing to raise funds is unique, too.”

Despite difficult economic realities, parishes continue to undertake church building programs, whether it is to renovate and repair old buildings, build a new home for consolidated parishes, or open a new church in a growing community. And these building projects are typically the largest a parish will ever undertake.

In addition to the nuts and bolts of construction and renovation, the demands of liturgy, aesthetics, education, and funding call for multiple layers of decision-making and coordination.

Such projects rely on the clear vision of the parish and the efforts of community members who feel called to this challenging but ultimately satisfying ministry. Above all, building a new church is an occasion of grace, one that invites the entire community to renew its faith along with its place of worship.

Foundation work

A church is a community—and not just one building—composed of spaces that support assembly, worship, administration, education, and fellowship. Good design happens from the inside out, so before breaking out the tool belts, a parish has to put on its thinking cap and reflect on its ritual, devotional, and hospitality needs—and understand how these spaces relate to each other.

“My first advice is to help a community understand that this is a time of renewal for the parish, both spiritual and liturgical,” says Franciscan Father Gil Ostdiek, a professor of liturgy at the Catholic Theological Union in Chicago. “By asking themselves, ‘Who are we as a people of God? What do we do when we gather?’ the community can free itself to think more expansively.

“Of all the languages of liturgy, space is the most subtle and least attended to, and yet provides a powerful symbolic communal identity,” Ostdiek says. “Many of the spaces we have inherited are out of alignment with the shape of the rite and its performance, but people are reluctant to change [these spaces] because they are basic identity symbols.”

Guided discussions about liturgy and its architectural implications can help parishioners grasp what goes into creating sacred space. Practical conversations about the design and construction process will help the community select the right architects, liturgical designers, and contractors, as well as evaluate design schemes and budgets.

“With our pastor, Father Francis Peffley, the building committee visited 28 churches to see what we liked, what worked, what didn’t. We spoke to pastors and parish administrators, and learned from others’ experiences,” says Betty Childers, who with her husband, Kevin, headed up the capital campaign for Holy Trinity Church, a 1,200-seat church serving 3,800 families in Gainesville, Virginia. These observations shaped a requirements document that was sent to potential architects.

Typically, a parish figures out what it can realistically afford and then finds an architect who can work within its budget. “I wouldn’t distinguish between a client with a limited budget from one with a huge budget. In some ways, a limited budget encourages creativity,” says architect Craig Rafferty of Rafferty Rafferty Tollefson Lindeke, a firm that has designed dozens of churches.

This sentiment is echoed by Jesuit Father Gilbert Sunghera, who consults on church design through the University of Detroit Mercy. He helped an immigrant parish envision what was possible and within their means. “We simply found an architect who knew how to work creatively on a tight budget,” he says.

Budget isn’t the only thing to think about when deciding on an architect. “We interviewed seven or eight architects, but only one stood out as a man of faith, and everything in our church reflects that,” Childers says of Jim O’Brien of O’Brien and Keane, designers of Holy Trinity.

On the other hand, “Non-Catholic architects come in with a lot of questions that help us explore the issues in new ways,” Sunghera says.

Building codes

Church law gives the final decisions about architects to the local bishop. Some bishops work only with certain architects, while others “have firm ideas . . . making it more difficult for a parish to request something different,” says Rafferty.

American churches also must conform to guidelines set forth in the General Instruction of the Roman Missal and the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops’ “Built of Living Stones: Art and Architecture for Worship”

“Many dioceses and archdioceses have their own guidelines and policies. Local customs should not be overlooked,” says Father Richard S. Vosko, a design consultant for 40 years.

Many dioceses require parishes to hire liturgical consultants to lead planning and coordinate between parishioners, project committees, and design teams. Vosko says that a liturgical consultant engages the parish in the planning process by asking questions and worshiping with them.

“You browse around offices and classrooms to learn about their programs. You observe traffic patterns—both auto and human—and reactions to colors, textures, smells, and silence. You ask them to describe what they are expecting when they go to Mass.”

Parish leadership is critical. Successful projects rely on building and finance committees made up of individuals of diverse skills who can work well together as well as inspire the larger community. The diocesan review committee often asks the pastor for input from the parish.

“I train the building committee to talk to other parishioners, the Sunday school, the Knights of Columbus, women’s clubs,” says liturgical consultant Carol Frenning. “Helping them become experts in their own parishes builds ownership of the project.”

Money matters

While everyone is eager to build the church itself, it can be more cost-effective to focus first on the school, parking, hospitality rooms, and other facilities that are needed to expand the parish and its financial base.

St. Henry Church in Nashville completed a major renovation and expansion of its campus in two phases, starting with its school. “If we couldn’t afford something right away, we made certain that it could be accommodated in the future,” says St. Henry’s parishioner Bob Loedding, who served on the project’s building and finance committees.

“We learned some good lessons in the first phase that helped us in the second one,” Loedding adds. The parish retained the original contractor but found a new architect and liturgical consultant who were more sensitive to St. Henry’s culture. They also adopted a “soft sell” method for raising money.

“We weren’t contacting parishioners individually and putting pressure on them. We received pledges of $6 million, which exceeded the $5 million we thought we might raise,” he says.

Holy Trinity’s capital campaign was the parish’s first, and the first in the diocese of Arlington, Virginia. Headed by parishioners Betty and Kevin Childers, who had never raised money before, the campaign had an initial goal of $2 million—but $5 million in pledges was raised in 16 weeks.

“When Father Peffley asked for our help, I had just been laid off,” says Betty, who once worked in corporate business development. “That window of time, when we were running the capital campaign, was the best of my life. It was challenging, but from a spiritual perspective, there was incredible growth.”

Does it match?

Unlike most buildings, churches provide the rare opportunity to pause and look closely at the materials, lighting, and construction of a structure. While the scope of projects varies, the altar, ambo (lectern), baptismal font, and the tabernacle with its stand are the key objects in a church.

“These four components must speak to each other in terms of their materials, details, and finishes,” says Martin Rambusch, principal of the Rambusch Company, one of the oldest private liturgical design companies in the country. The firm designs as well as builds church interiors and furnishings. “The design-build approach allows a project to succeed liturgically, visually, and economically because the thread of design is carried from start to completion.”

Creative solutions to furnishing a church can be found in unlikely places. Architectural firm Gray Organschi wanted to salvage a diseased beech tree on the wooded site of the Jesuit Community Center in Fairfield, Connecticut. Because the firm has a woodworking specialty, they were “equipped to transform the tree trunk into a stunning altar and ambo for the chapel,” says Sunghera, who oversaw the project.

Inevitable project delays can also offer unexpected grace. When the long-awaited crucifix for Sts. Anne and Joachim Church in Fargo, North Dakota arrived, it was so large that it was laid temporarily in the apse. After Mass, the community was invited to come to the altar area. “Allowing our children to touch the crucifix was meaningful,” remembers parishioner Roxane Salonen. “To be that close and see it in a way we never would again was compelling.”

Art appreciation

While the marriage of art and faith has long been an uneasy one, the church has sought to reform and refine its understanding of sacred art over the centuries. The Second Vatican Council’s Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, Sacrosanctum concilium, calls for art that is “truly worthy, becoming, and beautiful,” and its approval by those “who are especially expert.” Historically art has been an integral part of a church’s transformative power.

The quality of most religious art continues to plummet, however, dragged down by the easy availability of ersatz reproductions from catalogs and the general lack of art literacy. Exacerbating the situation is the perception that original art is expensive and a fear that less traditional work will cause controversy.

“When people ask me what kind of sculpture I make, I tell them I make statues that old ladies kiss, sparing me the contemporary-versus-traditional art argument,” says liturgical artist Anthony Visco, who understands his work as a vocation. He created an extensive art program for the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe in La Crosse, Wisconsin in collaboration with Duncan Stroik and River Architects, designers of the shrine complex. “We’ve lost a sense of metaphor, our powerful signs and symbols,” Visco says.

To increase familiarity and comfort with the process of selecting art, liturgical consultant Carol Frenning conducts retreats for building committees that include a discussion of art and ritual. “Lacking professional training in the visual arts, most people base their judgments on a ‘feeling,’ ” she says, “yet people are hungry for ways to talk about art and make decisions about it.” Once a parish understands its needs, it can more easily find art that fits with its cultural identity—the art in a suburban church of young families is going to express a different spirituality, for instance, than an inner-city parish dedicated to social justice.

This includes art that will be visible from outside the church. “Art tells your story to the world and can invite passersby into the church,” Frenning notes. “You can use art as a tool of evangelization.”

One example is the monumental Christ the Good Shepherd sculpture, a 30-foot-long, 8-foot-tall bronze by John Collier that stands outside the bishop’s offices in Greensburg, Pennsylvania. The work depicts Jesus, who is holding a lamb and walking his sheep, being confronted by a wolf. Figures of Abel, David, and Moses, shepherds from the Old Testament, follow Jesus and hold crosiers.

The sculpture is located at the intersection of a busy thoroughfare—where it can’t be missed—and provides an arresting but comforting reminder that the church’s role is to protect and nurture Christ’s people.

That’s dedication

When a church is at last completed, its dedication is an occasion of celebration, acknowledging the community’s spiritual renewal, commitment, and hard work. The dedication rite is a living proclamation of faith. “The ritual is really about the dedication or re-dedication of the people of the church,” Vosko says.

“Everything was a first—the first candle lit, the first incense burned, the first Mass said,” says Roxane Salonen of the dedication of Sts. Anne and Joachim, constructed over 15 years. As the three-hour ceremony unfolded, she noticed how the sawdust smell of new construction gradually mingled with the scent of candles and incense. “At the end, it smelled like a church. A transformation had happened.”

This article first appeared in the April 2011 issue of U.S. Catholic magazine (Vol. 76, No. 4, pages 12-17).

Seeing the Mall fully activated, fully full, democratically so, tearful and hopeful, was an inspiration. The meaning of the Mall’s monuments, those enduring symbols of the nation’s aspirations, sacrifice, and hope for change, was renewed during these last several days–it was great to see them in action.

Given Obama’s interest in architecture, let’s hope that he illuminates the profound connection that exists between our quality of life and the places we inhabit. Here’s a brief recap of presidential architectural forays written by David Brussat for the Providence Journal. Aside from his comments about Daniel Libeskind (Dave and I have agreed to disagree on some contemporary structures), this is a fascinating read.

“BARACK OBAMA spilled the beans at a campaign rally last March 21, in Salem, Ore.: “I can tell you that when I was young I wanted to be an architect, but, um, I . . . [shout from offstage] . . . That was good! Architect of change! I like that!”

If only Obama had not been interrupted by that blockhead, we might know what sort of architect he would have been. Maybe, if we are really lucky and Obama really is smart, we can have not only change we can believe in but change we can see.

Today, many Americans are dissatisfied with their built environment. Obama must try to change architecture from the modernism of the past half a century to a new traditionalism for the future. Is he likely to do so? The tea leaves give us few clues.

On the one hand, given the chance to frame the backdrop of his acceptance speech in Denver last August, Obama chose a classical stage set. He took some ribbing for its supposed pomposity, and classicists furrowed their brows at the colonnade’s prefab clunkiness. But the set contributed to the exaltation of what was then the apogee of his career.

Furthermore, in 2004, when the Obamas wanted to upgrade from a condo to a house, he and Michelle bought a Georgian Revival built in 1910. It was located by his wife, who was a member of the board of the Commission on Chicago Landmarks.

On the other hand, Obama once attended a lecture (or so claims the lecturer) by Daniel Libeskind, a modernist known for buildings that look like they are about to fall down. If Obama did attend a Libeskind lecture, maybe it was just for laughs.

Let us hope so. Since Thomas Jefferson designed Monticello, the Virginia State Capitol at Richmond and the original buildings of the University of Virginia, no president but Franklin Roosevelt has shown much interest in architecture aside from the occasional monument or federal building. FDR designed a modest hideaway on his Hyde Park estate called Top Cottage in 1939, and several buildings in Dutchess County, N.Y., and Warm Springs, Ga. Other than Jefferson, FDR is the only U.S. president known to have designed a house of his own.

One of FDR’s most enduring legacies has to do with architecture. Among the more notable of his New Deal agencies, the Works Progress Administration, or WPA, designed thousands of post offices, bridges and other structures in traditional styles that ignored the emerging craze for the International Style (early modernism). Many of them survive today because of the intrinsic structural and aesthetic merits of traditional over modern architecture. Its merits represent a sustainability whose resurrection would be much more effective at addressing climate change than the high-tech “gizmo green” fad that is favored by the architecture profession.

The federal government was the last major institution of American society to shift from traditional to modern architecture. Corporate, collegiate and institutional America went first. While the classicism of the Lincoln Memorial (1922) was uncontroversial, that of the Jefferson Memorial (1941) was attacked by modernists then on the rise in the profession. The last major federal buildings of classical style were erected by FDR during the 1930s. Tuesday’s inaugural parade passed them on the way up Pennsylvania Avenue to the White House.

The presidential motorcade also passed the first major federal building built in a classical style since then: the Ronald Reagan Building (1998). In fact, the grace of Pennsylvania Avenue arises from the City Beautiful movement, launched by the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition in Obama’s own Chicago.

The worst building on Pennsylvania is the J. Edgar Hoover Building, FBI headquarters, designed in a Brutalist style similar to that of Boston City Hall. If Obama has the eye of an aesthete, as anyone who claims he originally wanted to be an architect surely must, he probably turned his eye from the FBI building to the Department of Justice (1935), a classical building right across the street. If Obama wants to doff his cap to FDR, let him revive New Deal classicism. That would not only create many thousands of jobs, but a physical symbol of the Obama administration to which the public could easily relate.

Three blocks north of the White House is K Street, Lobbyists Row, the worst concentration of modern architecture in the nation’s capital. Part of Obama’s agenda is to push America’s body politic away from K Street toward Pennsylvania Avenue. Using architecture to tell the good guys from the bad guys might help him surmount the predictable resistance.

It is possible that change of great magnitude will want an aesthetic component. It might need a symbolism capable of representing its spirit to the public. Jefferson understood the importance of having an architecture that reflects the nation’s aspirations. Obama should embrace his inner architect by initiating a national conversation about architecture. If he does, he will do far more for his country than he could ever have done as an architect.”

-David Brussat, Providence Journal, January 22, 2009