Borrowing From Tomorrow
I still remember the smell the moment I walked in.
Old carpet. A hint of mildew. Coffee that had been reheated one too many times.
The pastor met me at the door with a warm smile and tired eyes. He loved his people. You could feel it. He also knew, before I ever said a word, that the building was quietly preaching a sermon he didn’t intend.
That’s the tension I live in as a Mission Strategist.
I get the privilege, and sometimes the burden, of walking into a lot of church buildings. Not as a critic. Not as an inspector. And not as someone emotionally attached to the pews, the carpet, or the paint color chosen in 1998 “because it hides stains.”
I walk in as a strategic outsider.
And one of the most common things I see is this:
Deferred maintenance has become a hidden form of debt.
Not on the balance sheet.
But on the soul of the ministry.
The Debt Nobody Talks About
Most churches didn’t get here because of neglect or laziness. They got here because they were faithful.
Decades ago, churches took bold steps of faith. They built buildings believing God was at work, their communities were growing, and the gospel deserved a visible presence. And for many years, it worked. People came. Ministries thrived. Baptistries stayed warm.
But ministry shifted. Culture shifted. Demographics shifted.
And buildings?
Buildings aged.
Somewhere along the way, routine upkeep got postponed so the budget could “work.” Roofs lasted a little longer than they should have. HVAC systems limped through one more summer. Parking lots cracked. Bathrooms aged. Paint faded. Signage dulled. Storage rooms filled with “we’ll get to that later.”
None of it felt urgent. Until suddenly, it was.
Deferred maintenance doesn’t announce itself loudly. It whispers. And then one day, it demands.
Deferred Maintenance Is Delayed Reality
Here’s the hard truth most churches don’t want to face:
Every year you delay routine maintenance, you’re not saving money. You’re borrowing against the future.
And the interest rate is brutal.
A $5,000 fix today quietly becomes a $50,000 crisis tomorrow. Not because anyone did something wrong, but because gravity always wins. Pipes corrode. Roofs fail. Electrical systems age. Concrete cracks. Technology becomes unreliable. Safety risks multiply.
And when those failures happen, they rarely happen in isolation. They show up during busy seasons. Budget-tight years. Pastoral transitions. Or right before Easter.
The worst timing imaginable.
Why This Is a Mission Issue (Not a Facilities One)
I’ve heard it more times than I can count:
“We don’t want to focus on buildings. We want to focus on people.”
Amen. Truly.
But here’s the part we don’t say out loud often enough:
People experience your mission through your space.
A first-time guest doesn’t know your history. They don’t know how many funerals you’ve hosted, how many lives have been changed, or how many saints faithfully scrubbed floors before them.
They know what they see.
If the restroom doesn’t work, the ceiling tiles are stained, the parking lot feels unsafe, the exits aren’t clearly marked, or the building feels tired, the message they receive is subtle but real:
“We’re holding on, but we’re not moving forward.”
That message may not be fair. But it is formative.
A Strategic Outsider’s Framework for Faithful Stewardship
This isn’t about shame. It’s about clarity.
Over the years, I’ve noticed that churches don’t struggle because they don’t care. They struggle because they don’t have a shared, repeatable way to see what’s actually happening across their facilities.
Here are a few anchors I consistently return to with church leaders.
1. Budget for Maintenance Like You Budget for Ministry
A healthy rule of thumb is setting aside 1–3% of your building’s replacement value annually for capital upkeep.
That number surprises people.
A building valued at $2 million should be setting aside roughly $20,000–$60,000 every year for maintenance reserves.
Not for emergencies.
Not for upgrades.
For inevitable wear and tear.
If that feels impossible, that’s not a failure. It’s a data point. And data points help leaders make wise decisions instead of reactive ones.
(Side note: Over time, the goal isn’t just to have a maintenance account—it’s to build enough margin in it that the money itself starts helping you. Many churches eventually reach a point where a portion of their maintenance reserves can be moved into a conservative money market account. When that happens, the interest alone can begin to offset ongoing maintenance costs. That’s not financial magic. That’s patient, disciplined stewardship doing quiet work in the background.)
2. Treat a Facility Assessment Like a Spiritual Discipline
You wouldn’t ignore the check engine light on your car and pray harder.
Yet churches often do exactly that with roofs, boilers, electrical panels, safety systems, and digital infrastructure.
Regular, intentional assessments don’t create anxiety. They create clarity. They help teams distinguish between what’s urgent, what’s important, and what can wait.
Clarity reduces fear.
Fear leads to avoidance.
Avoidance multiplies cost.
3. Stop Raiding Maintenance Reserves to Balance the Budget
This one hurts, because it often feels responsible in the moment.
“We’ll just borrow from reserves this year and catch up later.”
Later rarely comes.
Maintenance reserves aren’t extra money. They are future expenses already spoken for. Using them to plug operational gaps usually means you’re trading a small discomfort today for a major disruption tomorrow.
4. Plan Maintenance With the Same Intentionality as Ministry
Maintenance doesn’t compete with ministry. It supports it.
A clean, safe, well-functioning space doesn’t steal momentum. It multiplies it. Volunteers serve with less friction. Guests linger longer. Ministries breathe easier.
Facilities don’t need to be flashy. They need to be faithful.
The Question That Changes the Conversation
Here’s the question I often ask leadership teams gently, but directly:
Is this building serving our mission, or are we serving the building?
That question isn’t about guilt. It’s about alignment.
For some churches, it leads to renewed stewardship and intentional reinvestment.
For others, it opens the door to harder but necessary conversations about consolidation, shared space, partnerships, or future transitions.
None of those paths are failures. They are acts of faith when done honestly and prayerfully.
Why I Speak About This as a Strategic Outsider
I don’t preach from your pulpit every Sunday. I don’t carry the emotional weight of every wedding, funeral, and baptism in your building. That gives me the gift of fresh eyes.
I see your church the way your community does when they walk in for the first time. And I say this with deep respect:
You don’t need a brand-new building.
But you do need a healthy one.
A safe one.
A welcoming one.
One that supports what God is doing now, not just what He did then.
A Practical Next Step (And a Gift)
One of the most common questions I get after conversations like this is simple:
“Okay… where do we start?”
That question is why I created a comprehensive Annual Church Building Maintenance & Inventory Checklist, something practical enough to hand to a building and grounds team, trustees, or key volunteers, and immediately be better off than you were before.
It covers everything most churches miss when they only think about roofs and HVAC:
interior spaces, safety systems, parking lots, signage, digital infrastructure, seasonal prep, parsonages, documentation, and more.
If that kind of tool would serve your church, I’m making it available for free: You can request the full checklist here.)
This isn’t about buildings being sacred. They aren’t.
It’s about stewardship being faithful.
Let’s stop borrowing from tomorrow.
Let’s steward today with clarity and courage.
And let’s build, and maintain, on purpose.
This post first appeared on The Strategic Outsider Substack at associationmissionstrategist.substack.com, where Chris Reinolds writes for pastors and church leaders about faithful stewardship, strategic clarity, and the future of the local church.