On my desk I have a photograph of the church my parents attended as children. I took it a few years ago when my wife and I had the privilege of visiting, with them, the village in Latvia where they grew up. Their families fled Soviet annexation at the outset of World War II, settling in the Midwest after spending the war as refugees.
The picture is of the church's cornerstone, dated 1495. The tallest structure in town, this building has been the focal point of that community for more than 500 years. The postwar buildings around it are crumbling, victims of shoddy construction and uninspired design. The church remains a symbol of the people's faith and hope through generations, through war and peace, through prosperity as well as dark uncertainty.
Does what we build matter? Does it matter how we build? Does it matter for whom we build? My answer is yes; it matters more than we know.