Saturday, February 16, 2019

Church Steeple Origins - Digging Deeper

The Ancient Roots and Pagan Shadows of the Church Steeple


I am sitting here with a fresh cup of coffee, looking out at the horizon, and thinking about the things we take for granted in our walk with the Lord. You see, we often walk into a building, sit in a pew, and look up at the architecture without ever stopping to ask: "Why is that there?"

For years, many of us have struggled with a nagging sense that something in our modern religious practice doesn't quite line up with the simple, powerful life of the early church. We see the decline in spiritual hunger, the routine of the Sunday service, and the coldness of stone and mortar, and we wonder where the fire went. We feel a pain point—a disconnect between the supernatural life promised in the Bible and the tradition-heavy reality we see on every street corner.

The agitation grows when we realize that many of the symbols we hold dear might not have started with Jesus at all. If we are honest, we have to admit that Jesus never commanded us to build elaborate cathedrals or top them with pointed towers. So, where did these ideas come from? Are we inadvertently mixing the holy with the profane?

In this post, we are going to dig deeper into the origins of the church steeple. We are going to look past the white paint and the bells to see if there is a pagan shadow lurking behind the spire. My goal isn't to cause division or be confrontational, but to seek the truth. By the end of this journey, I hope you’ll see that our connection to the Father doesn't require a monument reaching into the clouds, but a heart that is fully surrendered to the indwelling Christ.

Years ago, I was walking down a city street on a crisp afternoon. The sidewalk was uneven beneath my feet, and the smell of exhaust and distant bakeries filled the air. As I rounded a corner, I came face-to-face with a massive, traditional church building. It was one of those old stone structures that felt like it had been there since the dawn of time. I stopped for a moment and looked up at the towering steeple.

The sun was positioned perfectly behind the very tip of the spire, where a small cross sat. It was a blinding, glorious sight. The rays of light broke around the edges of the wood and stone, hitting me directly in the eyes. In that moment, I had this poetic thought: Is this what it’s like to look through the cross of Jesus to see the Father? I wondered if this was a physical representation of that doctrine we often hear—that God doesn't see our sin, He only sees the blood of the Son.

But as I stood there, squinting against the glare, a different thought began to nag at me. I realized that "Sunday" is not spelled "S-O-N-day." It is "Sun-day." Why do we worship on that day? Why was the sun perfectly aligned with that tower? I started to remember the warnings in the Word about worshipping God according to the ways of the heathen. In Deuteronomy, the Lord was very clear about this.

Neither shalt thou set up any image; which the Lord thy God hateth. (Deuteronomy 16:22 KJV).

When we look at the history of these structures, we find two very different arguments. On one hand, you have folks like "Pastor Hollywood," a cheerful brother I’ve seen online who loves the steeple. To him, the steeple is a tool to point people toward heaven. He argues that it's a way to "lift the cross up" so that men might be drawn to Jesus. It sounds good on the surface, doesn't it? It’s a nice, sentiment-driven idea. He claims that back in the day, when people couldn't read or write, the architecture told the story for them.

But I have to ask: if steeples are the key to drawing people to the Lord, why is America in the spiritual state it’s in? We have more steeples per square mile than almost anywhere else, yet the hunger for the true, biblical Jesus seems to be waning. We don’t need a physical symbol to manipulate people into seeking God. That reminds me too much of the Golden Calf. Remember when Aaron told the people, "Behold your gods," while Moses was up on the mountain? They wanted something they could see, something they could point to, but God wants a people who worship Him in spirit and in truth.

On the other side of the fence, you have more pointed arguments. Some pastors and researchers suggest that the steeple is actually a repurposed Egyptian obelisk. If you look at the Washington Monument, you are looking at an exact replica of an ancient Egyptian obelisk from 1600 BC. These monuments were prevalent in Babylon, Egypt, Greece, and Rome.

The word "obelisk" itself is fascinating. Some believe it actually stems from the term "Bel's Shaft." Bel, or Baal, was a false god—the devil, essentially.

Declare ye among the nations, and publish, and set up a standard; publish, and conceal not: say, Babylon is taken, Bel is confounded, Merodach is broken in pieces; her idols are confounded, her images are broken in pieces. (Jeremiah 50:2 KJV).

History tells us that Constantine, around AD 325, tried to consolidate pagan religions into Christianity to keep the Roman Empire together. This is why we have so many "Christian" holidays that look suspiciously like ancient pagan festivals. It’s also why Roman architecture began to influence the way we build "churches."

When I interviewed Frank Viola about his book Pagan Christianity, we talked about this at length. Ever since the inhabitants of Babel tried to build a tower to reach the heavens, man has been obsessed with pointed structures. The Babylonians and Egyptians built pyramids and obelisks because they believed they were progressing toward immortality. When the Roman Catholic Church rose to power, they drew inspiration from these Egyptian monuments.

During the Gothic period, architects became obsessed with verticality. They wanted everything to point upward to suggest a striving toward God. They added towers to the entrances of buildings to house bells. These bells were necessary because, until recently, accurate clocks didn't exist. People needed a signal to know when to show up for worship. But over time, the bell tower evolved into the thin, decorative spire we call the steeple.

In 1666, a great fire swept through London, destroying dozens of churches. Sir Christopher Wren was commissioned to redesign them, and he used his own stylistic innovations to create what we now recognize as the modern steeple. The Puritans, who usually liked things simple, kept the steeple and brought it with them to the Americas.

The problem is that the message of the steeple often contradicts the message of the New Testament. The steeple suggests that we must reach up into the heavens to find a distant God. But the Gospel tells us that God has come down to us. Emmanuel—God with us. We have an indwelling Lord. We don’t need to climb a tower or look at a spire to find Him; He is as close as our very breath.

Personal Reflections

I’ve spent a lot of my life "digging deeper" into these topics because I want to make sure my walk is pure. In my books, like OPEN YOUR EYES MY SUPERNATURAL JOURNEY, I talk about the supernatural journey and how God wants us to see the world through a spiritual lens. Often, that means unlearning the traditions of man.

I remember many nights sitting in a 24-hour pancake house—not the International House of Prayer, but a literal IHOP—with a group of brothers. It would be 3:00 AM, the smell of coffee and maple syrup heavy in the air, and we would be hunched over our Bibles. We would pray for one another, share what the Lord was doing, and experience a level of fellowship that I rarely found inside a building with a steeple.

I used to joke that we should put a steeple on the IHOP because that’s where the "church" was actually happening. The early Christians met from house to house. They didn't have a central monument; they had a central Person, and His name was Jesus.

I’ve realized that I don't need a symbol to remind me to worship. When I drive past a church with a towering white spire, I don't feel more "heavenly minded." Instead, I often find myself wondering about the root of that symbol. If it has a root in pagan fertility rites or sun worship, I personally want nothing to do with it.1

We are in the world, but not of it. We can't run from every pagan influence—the days of the week and the months of the year are named after false gods, and our currency is covered in pagan symbols. But in our worship, in the way we honor the King of Kings, we should strive for a purity that reflects the biblical Jesus.

Biblical References

The Word of God is our ultimate guide when we are navigating the minefield of tradition. In the Old Testament, the Lord was incredibly protective of His people's worship. He didn't want them picking up the habits of the nations around them.

In Deuteronomy 16, God specifically warns against setting up pillars or images. The Hebrew word for "image" in that context often refers to a column or a memorial stone—something upright and erect. These were frequently associated with Asherah or Baal worship. The "Asherah" was an upright pillar that represented the productive principle of life, while Baal represented the generative principle. These were phallic symbols, plain and simple.

When Jehu went into the house of Baal, he didn't just stop the worship; he destroyed the symbols.

And they brought forth the images out of the house of Baal, and burned them. (2 Kings 10:26 KJV).

The amplified version of that verse even uses the word "obelisks." God has always been adamant that His people be separate. He doesn't want us erecting towers and pillars that point to the sun, mirroring the sexual rites and fertility worship of the ancient world.

In the New Testament, Paul reminds us that we cannot mix the holy with the demonic.

Ye cannot drink the cup of the Lord, and the cup of devils: ye cannot be partakers of the Lord's table, and of the table of devils. (1 Corinthians 10:21 KJV).

If the steeple is indeed a vestige of sun worship or phallic symbolism, we have to ask ourselves why we continue to crown our places of worship with it. We are called to be a separate people, a royal priesthood. Our "standard" is not a spire on a roof; it is the life of Christ manifest in our mortal bodies.

Key Takeaways

  • The church steeple does not have a biblical origin; Jesus never commanded its use.
  • Historical evidence links the steeple to ancient Egyptian obelisks, which were symbols of sun worship and fertility.
  • Constantine’s efforts to consolidate paganism and Christianity likely played a role in bringing these architectural styles into the church.
  • The transition from bell towers to decorative spires was solidified by architects like Sir Christopher Wren in the 17th century.
  • Spiritual fellowship doesn't require a specific building or symbol; the early church met in homes and shared lives.
  • The Bible warns against setting up pillars or images that mimic the worship styles of the heathen.

Conclusion and Call to Action

At the end of the day, I’m not going to tell you that you’re a heretic if you attend a church with a steeple. I’m not here to cause a fight. But I am here to encourage you to think. I’m here to encourage you to dig deeper into the Word and into history.

We have to decide if we are going to follow the traditions of men or the truth of the Scriptures. For me, I don't need a monument to tell me where God is. I know where He is—He’s right here with me. He’s with you, too, if you’ve put your trust in Him.

Let’s move away from the "churchianity" of symbols and shadows and move into a vibrant, supernatural relationship with the living God. If you want to learn more about navigating the spiritual world and overcoming the shadows of the past, I invite you to check out my books OPEN YOUR EYES and Overcoming Night Terror.

If this message touched you or challenged you, please share it with your friends and family. Let's start a conversation about what it means to truly follow Jesus in these last days. Leave a comment below and let me know your thoughts—do steeples help you focus on God, or do you see them as a distraction from the simple Gospel?

Action Items

  • Research the History: Take some time to look into the history of your local church's architecture. Ask questions about why things were built the way they were.
  • Audit Your Worship: Reflect on whether you rely on physical symbols (like steeples or crosses) to "feel" spiritual, and ask God to help you find Him in the quiet, everyday moments.
  • Read the Word: Study Deuteronomy 16 and Jeremiah 50 in your KJV Bible to understand God's heart regarding pillars and pagan symbols.
  • Focus on Fellowship: This week, reach out to a brother or sister in Christ for simple fellowship—coffee, a meal, or a walk—without the context of a formal church building.
  • Subscribe and Share: Stay tuned to ConradRocks.net for more deep dives into the Word and the supernatural life. Don't forget to share this post to help others dig deeper!

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