By RaeAnn Slaybaugh
By the time Dr. Clayton Chisum arrived at Central Baptist Church in Owasso, Okla., in early 2020, conversations about facilities had been happening for months. The church had good people. Ministry was happening. The campus itself had “great bones,” as Chisum puts it.
But there was also a growing realization that the building and the ministry happening inside it didn’t … match.
In fact, in some ways, the building was beginning to work against the church.
Clearly, changes were in order. But even if Chisum wanted to get the ball rolling right away, the timing for a renovation/building project was entirely off, with the pandemic in full effect.
“The very first thing that I did the very first day of work was to shut the church down for three months,” he recalls. “I preached, I think, 15 sermons to nobody — just on a camera.”
Chisum had spent 15 years in Texas serving as a student pastor before he became lead pastor at Central. He arrived in Owasso the same week COVID hit Oklahoma.
“It was a crazy, crazy first year,” he says, adding with a laugh: “I do not recommend it.”
Yet, in hindsight, that difficult season became clarifying.
Matching the facility to the mission
COVID forced the church to reassess nearly everything — including the way its facility either supported ministry or hindered it.
And for Chisum, who has now led multiple church construction projects throughout his ministry career, one thing became unmistakably clear:
“A facility has to match your mission,” he says. “It’s not just about making everything look amazing and cool and cutting edge. It actually needs to be functional. It needs to help ministry happen, because the church isn’t a building — it’s people.”
That philosophy ultimately shaped Central’s massive renovation and expansion project with Master’s Plan Church Design & Construction — a multi-year process that transformed the church’s physical campus and its culture, its hospitality, and its long-term ministry effectiveness.
A facility built for a different era
Central Baptist Church was founded in 1963 in downtown Owasso, when the community was still a small bedroom town north of Tulsa.
As Owasso grew, the church relocated in 2002 to its current property on the edge of town.
Like many churches built during that era, the facility reflected the ministry philosophy of the 1990s and early 2000s. Lots of classrooms. Lots of hallways. Multiple entrances. Separate ministry zones.
What made perfect sense at the time no longer worked 20 years later.
The church had accumulated large amounts of small-group space that sat mostly unused throughout the week while occupying prime real estate near the worship center.
Additionally, there was no central gathering space; no obvious front door; no natural place for community to happen.
In the worship center, the fanned-out orientation unintentionally conveyed a sense of isolation. Different groups used different entrances — families through one door, senior adults through another. Other ministries had essentially adopted their own entrances, too.
People came in, attended their class or worship service, and then immediately left.
“There wasn’t interaction,” Chisum says. “There was a lack of community because of our facility layout.”
Even basic hospitality had become difficult.
“There were no restrooms anywhere near the main entrance,” he says. “People had to walk down two hallways to access the first set of restrooms.”
Perhaps most importantly, the campus had become difficult for guests to navigate. That issue is something churches often fail to recognize because longtime members no longer notice it, Chisum says. “Most of us could close our eyes and walk through our church buildings right to where we want to go,” he explains. “But a guest needs to be ministered to and supported during their on-campus experience.”
That realization became a major turning point.
Before the building came health
Aside from COVID, there were several reasons Central didn’t immediately jump into construction once Chisum arrived; deeper issues lay underneath the surface. So, as Chisum says, the church wasn’t remotely ready.
“We were in no position to really be thinking about building anything at that time,” he says candidly. “We were an unhealthy church. A good church, but an unhealthy situation.”
Attendance had declined significantly over time. Leadership structures needed attention. Staffing needed restructuring. Ministry alignment was lacking.
To tackle all these challenges, the church partnered with a church-centric consultancy. Three major recommendations emerged: governance needed restructuring; staffing needed to evolve; and fixing the problem of the facility stifling ministry effectiveness.
As guided, the church addressed the first two foundational problems before it moved forward with the last directive. Having led several such projects, Chisum knew one thing for sure: buildings rarely solve leadership problems. “We needed vision before any building,” he explains.
Why Central stayed the course
Uniquely, Central’s story starts with church/design-builder conversations that began before Chisum even arrived. The church’s administrative pastor had previously worked alongside Master’s Plan president and founder Rodney James during James’ years in pastoral ministry.
Still, Chisum easily could have changed direction after becoming lead pastor. Instead, he doubled down on the partnership.
“One of the things that’s very interesting about Master’s Plan is the fact that they’re ministry people,” Chisum says. “They understood us in ways that I would say some firms don’t understand.”
That distinction proved significant throughout the process.
“They understand how congregations make decisions,” he explains. “They understand how churches operate.”
Another major factor was Master’s Plan’s guaranteed maximum price structure. For Chisum — who had previously experienced projects exceeding projected budgets — that clarity became invaluable.
“I cannot tell you how big that is,” he says. “I’ve been on the other side of that conversation when you’re having to tell your people, ‘Well, we thought it was going to cost this amount, but actually it’s going to be more.’ That’s not good.”
Ultimately, the project finished roughly $158,000 under budget. More importantly, Chisum says, the transparent process created trust.
“We felt like Master’s Plan was on our side in the construction process,” he explains. “They became our advocate.”
It takes a (dream) team
Once Central was finally ready to move forward, Chisum created a “dream team” comprised of staff members, church leaders, and representatives from different generations and ministries across the congregation. Together, they considered how the resulting building could reflect and support who the church was — and was becoming — while also appealing to guests with a clear sense of hospitality.
“One of our desires as a church is unreasonable hospitality,” Chisum says. “We’re going above and beyond.”
One of the biggest changes involved eliminating enormous amounts of underused classroom space.
“We had a lot of small-group space,” Chisum explains. “Every different small group had their own room.”
In fact, some classes had occupied the same rooms for decades: “Their furniture. Their coffee. It was their space.”
But much of that space surrounded the worship center — where connection and hospitality needed to happen most.
Master’s Plan helped Central rethink how ministry space could function more efficiently. Instead of single-purpose rooms used once per week, the church began designing for flexible, multi-use environments.
The renovation gutted much of the space surrounding the worship center and replaced it with a dramatically expanded gathering area wrapping around the auditorium. Today, that area serves as the church’s “Central Hub.”
“It honestly feels like the life of our church is now in the lobby,” Chisum says. The space now supports everything from Sunday-morning fellowship to weekday preschool activity.
“We didn’t lose small-group capacity,” he points out. “We just learned how to use space differently.”
Meanwhile, to foster better fellowship, Master’s Plan helped Central consolidate confusing entrances into the worship center into a much clearer front-door experience. And the expanded lobby now immediately connects guests to gathering spaces, children’s ministry, hospitality areas, coffee service, and more.
“It helped us make our building not about us, but about people who aren’t here yet,” Chisum emphasizes.
Wayfinding became a major emphasis
“Signs aren’t for your people,” Chisum says. “They’re for the guests.”
As Chisum puts it, guests shouldn’t feel like they’re solving a puzzle when they arrive on campus.
“They need to know how to find the restroom,” he says. “How to navigate the space. How to get out of here.”
Good wayfinding, he argues, communicates care: “You’re telling them they matter.”
Creating safer, more functional kids spaces
Children’s ministry was also a central priority throughout the project.
Prior to construction, Central operated with what Chisum calls a “small church mentality” regarding security.
“It was like, ‘Hey, we know everybody. Just bring your kid on back,’’” he says.
Today, it’s an entirely different mindset. Parents who expect visibility, safety, and intentional security processes (read: all of them) can know — from the children’s check-in and large glass-enclosed security zone in the lobby — that their children are in good hands.
“I tell people it’s the safest place for your kid in town,” Chisum says.
The church also added a large indoor playground, expanded children’s gathering areas, and created a dedicated kids worship environment. And a preschool — Grand Central Kids — serves roughly 200 children and workers daily.
Really reimagining the worship center
Perhaps the most dramatic transformation occurred inside the worship center itself. Again, the existing room reflected older ministry models, with an oversized stage and a choir loft collecting dust for more than a decade.
Meanwhile, the room itself was extremely wide and shallow — creating awkward sightlines and limiting intimacy.
“When I would preach, the angle of the audience was almost 180 degrees,” Chisum says.
At one point, he and Rodney James stood on the stage and realized that making eye contact with one section of the room meant literally turning their backs to another section.
“That’s not good communication,” Chisum says.
The solution involved demolishing overabundant small group space behind the seating at the back of the room and expanding the worship center backward. Concrete risers were added, and the room became narrower and deeper. The stage footprint was reduced dramatically. New AVL systems, LED walls, lighting, and production infrastructure were installed throughout the space.
“It was a complete gut job,” Chisum says. “The only thing left was the back wall.”
Big changes, big impact.
“Now there’s not a bad seat in the house,” he says. “The new design has created the opportunity to provide a great experience for everyone, no matter where they might sit.”
Leading through disruption … with a smile
Of course, every major renovation comes with disruption.
At Central, the church spent roughly 16 months meeting in its much smaller student venue while the worship center renovation unfolded.
That experience required flexibility, patience, and endurance from both staff and congregation.
But Chisum believes one major factor helped prevent burnout: trust.
Throughout the project, Master’s Plan maintained close communication with church leadership, allowing potential issues to be identified before they became expensive problems.
“We caught a lot of issues before they happened,” Chisum says. “That saved us hundreds of thousands of dollars.”
It also potentially saved them a pastor — not that Chisum was planning on leaving. Even so, he has seen firsthand how living through difficult construction projects often causes burned-out pastors to move on.
Instead, Chisum remains energized about the church’s future.
“Hey, look — I’m still here,” he says, laughing.
When the building finally supports the mission
Today, Central Baptist Church feels dramatically different from the facility Chisum inherited in 2020. In fact, he says, if someone hadn’t visited in 10 years, they likely wouldn’t recognize it.
Now, gathering spaces foster connection all week long. A clear front door welcomes guests and members. Children’s ministry spaces convey fun and safety. Hospitality reins, with a great coffee space and different, dedicated gathering areas in the lobby. And instead of sequestering themselves in the same classroom week after week, the reworked facility reflects an obvious focus on versatility of space.
“We don’t have a giant church, but it feels like we do,” Chisum says. “I guess that’s because it’s being used in so many different ways.”
Most importantly, the building now supports the church’s outward-focused mission rather than working against it.
The church is now nearing the halfway point of back-to-back capital campaigns that will allow the entire project to be paid off within roughly six years.
Even by then, Chisum will probably be hearing the same thing church members say so often these days:
“‘We should’ve done this 20 years ago.’”
He laughs.
“Yesss.”
