Easter 1987 was fast approaching, when we would hold our church’s first service. With eight other adults, we were planting a church where no Protestant church had been started for more than 125 years. The community had grown considerably since then. Surely it would see the need for another congregation.
One week before Easter, everything seemed in place. Our 23,000 hand-addressed invitations had reached everyone’s mailbox, announcing our service times and location. We had rented a room in a beautifully restored, forty-four-room mansion now serving as an office complex. It had not yet opened to the general public; curiosity alone would bring people to such a unique setting.
Then the mayor called: “Our zoning laws do not permit a church to meet in that building.”
A certified letter the next day warned, “You’ll have to cancel your services and meet elsewhere or be fined $5,000 for every week you violate the zoning laws.” The office complex we were so excited about now wore our not-to-be-removed zoning violation sticker on its front door. And we had not yet held our first service! Easter was only three days away! What could we do?
Suburban wandering
We thought we had done our homework. Unknown to us, though, we had targeted a community anxious to keep out a certain religious sect. Zoning laws began to restrict and even prohibit worship in public places by any religious group.
Initially the idea of canceling something to which we had invited 23,000 households seemed almost funny.
But we had to put together a plan. First, we regained our bearings. We believed God wanted a new church in this community, so we called others to pray-our denominational leaders, other churches, and friends. Then, we tried to persuade the zoning committee to give us one week’s grace so we could hold a grand opening. We promised to leave after that.
They granted us the exception.
On Easter Sunday the weather was wonderful, and the mansion made a great statement. Many came, a number from unchurched backgrounds. Nine adults professed faith for the first time.
The only hitch came when we had to tell our instant congregation that we could not meet there the next week due to zoning laws. Also, since we had no idea where we would meet, would they please fill out a card with their name and address? We promised to have a letter in their mailbox by Saturday with information about our next location. What a way to plant a church!
Since most of our new congregation came from unchurched backgrounds, few realized how unusual these events were. Many sympathized with our plight and followed us around town as we moved five times in the next two months, meeting in the chapel of a nearby Catholic retreat center, in a tent in the outdoor courtyard of that same retreat center, in a Methodist church building (an 8:00 A.M. service, our lowest attendance ever!), in classrooms at the local community college, in the outdoor grassy area at that same community college. We ended up in another building at the college.
The way of peace
The situation with the zoning board could have easily gotten ugly and counterproductive. We learned several lessons during this time that helped us find a constructive solution.
Be gracious and patient. People can become suspicious when something new comes to their community, especially when they perceive no benefit to themselves.
Several dozen recipients of our initial 23,000-household mailing immediately picked up the phone to express their offense that we were trying to convert them. The typical conversation, after the caller had vented his anger, went like this:
“How’d you get my name, anyway?”
“From the phone book. We mailed the invitation to every household in the phone book.”
Long pause. “Oh.” Another long pause. “Well, you should have noticed that my last name is Jewish (or Italian, or Irish).”
“We had no desire to offend you, sir. We merely wanted to reach anybody interested in a more personal faith in God. One of my neighbors, named Cohen, is Gentile. Another, named Wallison, is Jewish. Many marriages have a husband of one religion and a wife of another. We have such a rich diversity in our community that the only solution we could think of was to mail our invitation to everybody.”
“Well, I understand. But would you please take us off your mailing list?”
This approach seemed to diffuse their hostility. They saw that our intentions were honorable and that we were appealing to our entire community, not just to them.
Carefully research local zoning laws. Our wires had gotten crossed when we trusted someone who didn’t have the authority to give us access to the building. The manager of the office complex had drawn up a legal contract, assuring us that if H&R Block could bring a crowd to study the tax book the week before, certainly we could meet to study the Good Book. He was wrong. His word that local ordinances would permit our “public forum” for worship was simply not true.
Our Easter experience taught us not to accept any information secondhand. After that, we became regular visitors at the town hall office of zoning.
Learn what other “non-profits” have done. We asked around and learned, for example, that the YMCA used public schools to provide day care for working parents. Even though the YMCA in our community behaves as a secular organization, we verified that its legal charter is indeed a religious one. We also learned that certain Jewish temples in our area had rented various meeting halls (community college, Masonic hall, private country clubs, restaurants) for seminars and bar mitzvahs.
Our fact-finding efforts broadened our range of opportunities and emboldened us to conduct our negotiations with confidence. The more information we had on our side, the easier it was to persuade community opinion leaders that we had a solid legal basis for renting public facilities.
Choose battles carefully. When we tried to rent a local school building, the school board rejected us. We could have fought the matter in court and, we are convinced, overturned their ordinance. However, if we had won, the community would have hated us because we would have opened the door to the other religious sect.
So, like Isaac with his wells, we did not fight. Instead we kept looking for that right spot. We kept reminding ourselves of the big picture of why we were there: we had come to serve the community, not to invite their hatred.
Develop trust. We invited movers and shakers into our home. The more we seemed to fit into the community, the warmer people became toward us.
After we found a good spot to rent for our Sunday worship, we still needed an office for midweek events, administration, and storage. That proved to be a challenge. After selecting an appealing office site, we invited the owner of the building to our home to demonstrate that we were relatively normal people. Our time together went so well she even lowered the rent!
But the zoning board remained vigilant. Our strategy was to maximize every opportunity for positive public exposure, so before we signed the rental agreement for our office, I received permission to hold a grand opening ceremony. We publicized it in the county newspaper.
When the photo and story appeared, a town official saw it and launched an investigation into whether our church office was violating zoning laws. He found that we were not but that our landlord lacked a valid certificate of occupancy. We and the one other tenant were legally notified that we were participants in this illegal occupancy. After two court hearings in which the landlord did all the speaking, however, the certificate was granted.
Over time, trust developed and bridges were built. Our son went to the same public school as the mayor’s son. They became best friends. A few years later, the mayor told us, “Listen, if the village can ever do anything to help your church, don’t hesitate to ask!”
Pray, pray, pray. At times, the zoning battles seemed like spiritual attacks meant to frighten and discourage us. Prayer helped us remember that God is bigger than any zoning board.
As time passed, the town board turned its attention to other groups. We had won that battle and were now free to devote more energy to making disciples of Jesus Christ.
– Michelle and Warren Bird
Suffern, New York
Copyright © 1993 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal. Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.
