A HOUSE OF GOD, A HOUSE OF . . . CLEAN RESTROOMS?

Whenever I enter a house of worship, the first place I check out is the restroom.

Naturally, you will say. He is a middle-aged man. Regardless, I am always interested to see if the bathroom is clean. A clean restroom, I have found, is prima facie evidence of a congregation’s overall wellbeing – pride, stewardship, energy and honor for the house in which God’s spirit dwells.

The epiphany came a year ago as I was gathering up Christmas presents for homeless families at Brookwood Community Church. I already knew that this congregation had its act together, an exemplar – welcoming, God-filled, well functioning, uplifting preaching, engaged in myriad community service projects.

Brookwood conducts three Sunday services. I visited the restroom before the first one. Meticulous. Before the second service and then the third, I visited again. On each occasion, a layperson was touching it up. Wow. The correlation between bathroom cleanliness and congregational all-together-ness, I realized, must be more than coincidental.

Have I done definitive research? No, but I have a growing file of evidence: Christ Episcopal, First Baptist Greenville, Westminster Presbyterian, Tabernacle Baptist. . . all congregations of extraordinary vitality, and all with spotless restrooms.

Doing some organizational consulting for a congregation in the Northeast, I visited its cross-town competition. The competitor was succeeding; it was failing. Just as I expected: clean bathrooms. I returned and told my hosts, “No wonder they are winning. Their restrooms are clean!”

Likewise, I knew a congregation whose bathrooms were consistently untidy and malodorous. The rabbi regularly admonished the indifferent custodian and even complained to the leadership. Yet, time and again, especially before the Sabbath, he or the secretary would have to repair to the closet for supplies and do the cleaning him/herself. The point is that everything else about the congregation was also a dysfunctional mess.

As my grandmother would say, “Feh.”

I have a few theories about the relationship between clean restrooms and congregational vitality. Not rocket science:

First is the simple a fortiori notion that a congregation of clean restrooms must have well-functioning systems of responsibility, follow-through, accountability and professionalism that also extend to the “more important” facets of congregational life. Money can buy only so much janitorial service. The rest, only a committed, well-focused laity can achieve.

But, much more of it has to do with pride and dignity. They always seem to begat neatness: The spit-and-polish Marine. The luster of a beautifully set table. The car waxed to a glossy sheen. Children in their holiday best. “Poor but proud” invariably connotes dignity of ones place and presence that mere money cannot buy. And, “grunge” is not so much a fashion statement as it is a frame of mind. Likewise, a congregation and its spotless – or grungy – restrooms make an emblematic statement of its dignity or its basic lack of pride. Congregations with inferiority complexes almost always seem to have poorly kept bathrooms.

Ultimately, though, the correlation comes from a congregation’s understanding that the spiritual commitment affirmed in the sanctuary that “This is a House of God!” is the same one embraced in the boardroom, committee meetings . . . and restrooms. I laugh when someone blubbers about “more spirituality in the services,” when the occasion most bereft of spirituality is the monthly board meeting. The most vital, spirit-filled congregations are invariably those that assert through their deeds that “the greater glory of God and humanity” is not an empty platitude, but a virtue made manifest in every mundane cranny of God’s house.

An office building’s restrooms should be clean for hygienic and good-business reasons. A church or synagogue’s bathrooms should be clean because cleanliness in ones bodily functions is the fulfillment of a Divine imperative. We Jews bless God even on emergence from the bathroom for “creating within us miraculous systems of vessels and orifices.” Yes, it is a miracle.

So, take a look at other people’s houses of worship and see if my hypothesis is true. Then look at your own and ask yourself whether a congregation can be permeated by Godly wellbeing unless even the least of its facilities bears a sense of honor and dignity. See if you discover what I have: The pastor or rabbi can deliver the most inspiring sermon from the pulpit, but if the restrooms are not clean, it is a sign that the congregation still does not get the message.