If I were constructing a new church building, I’d start with the restroom. Then, if any money was left, I’d add the auditorium and classrooms.
Why? The restroom is the one space everybody uses. Not everyone visits the kitchen or nursery, but sooner or later, they all pass through the narrow gate of the necessary room.
That’s important because not only does the restroom make an impression on visitors, it is the key place for discipleship training. In my experience, restrooms build character in four ways.
Patience
“Small” seems to be the number-one requirement for church restrooms. Never mind that 300 to 400 people have five minutes between Sunday school and worship in which to refresh themselves. They will just have to learn to be quick.
Have you ever been in a church of 400 that has a men’s room with capacity for only three at a time? You find men milling about, not far from the door, pretending to fellowship. But they’re really just watching the rest-room door.
It seems like no one ever comes out of such rest-rooms. Maybe that’s why attendance is sometimes down in such churches.
The smallest church restroom I’ve ever seen is a converted closet in a mid-sized church in Iowa. The room was about two-by-three feet. The best part is that the room is only five feet tall. I’m six-foot-one, and there are junior high boys taller than I. Think about it.
Self-denial
Why are church restrooms so poorly equipped by the same people whose own homes have restrooms that would rival Nero’s private bath? Self-denial.
One Sunday I was a visiting speaker at a church in southern Missouri. In the afternoon, I was directed to play basketball with the youth group, which I did. Unfortunately the game lasted until five minutes before evening worship. I arrived at the church in a sweaty, smelly mess, dashed into the flimsy restroom and took a full body bath, using nothing but Lava soap, cold water, and paper towels.
It wasn’t the pleasure you might think.
Listening skills
“Can you tell me how to find the men’s room?” I asked two elderly men in a rural church.
They smiled at each other.
One of them finally volunteered. “Well, you gotta get to the basement first, and that can be tricky. Okay, you go through that door and take two lefts, then go down one flight and take a right and then another left. You’ll go through a dark storage room filled with Christmas play props, then you have to go through the women’s room—unless someone’s using it—and there you are. You can’t miss it.”
I missed it.
Humility
Public restrooms are located in some very public places. In one Illinois church, the restroom is located directly behind the pulpit. I’m not making this up. During the sermon, mothers with small children make their way to the platform and disappear behind the preacher, soon to emerge looking much happier—the kids, that is. The mothers don’t seem to mind, and it doesn’t slow the preacher down.
Not far from my home is a church whose restroom door has a tendency to lock itself on you. You have to shout to someone to come pick the lock and let you out. Since the room is located in the far corner of the basement, it takes a good bit of screaming to get someone’s attention. Of course, the general public can’t quite tell exactly what you’re screaming, but I’m guessing they just fill in the blanks.
A small Missouri church features a restroom that was built in a classroom and separated from the class by a thin partition that doesn’t go all the way to the ceiling. The bathroom stool is built up on a platform.
No, I don’t know why.
To reach the stool, you have to mount three throne steps, at which point you can see out over the class.
Try not to think about it.
More churches need to recognize the spiritual training tools at their disposal.
Daniel Schantz
1998 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal. For reprint information call 630-260-6200 or contact us.
