In early 2023, two pastors within two miles of each other in Kalamazoo, Michigan, were both at a loss. Both, unbeknownst to each other, were praying for guidance.

For Jonathan Cruse at Community Presbyterian (OPC), the problem was too little space. The church was outgrowing its 5,000-square-foot stone building. The sanctuary was beautiful, but the basement’s fellowship hall couldn’t hold the whole church, and there were no classrooms. By 2023, Community had been looking for a new building for three years.

For Bill Ferguson at Grace Harbor (Church of God), the problem was too much space. The church was maintaining a 28,000-square-foot location that it no longer filled. In 2022, the church excitedly pursued partnership with a nonprofit that would buy the facility and lease it to them on weekends—but in March 2023, that fell through.

By May, Ferguson was thinking, “OK, I’ve been in ministry thirty-eight years, but I’m not sure how we can manage the finances,” he remembered. He was in his office, praying, when he reached for a letter he’d received two weeks earlier and left unopened. It was from a guy named Cruse, to all the local Kalamazoo pastors.

“If you feel God is leading your church to make a decision on your current worship facilities, would you please reach out? Or if you know of a church that might be considering moving from their building to one that better suits their current needs, please point us in their direction. If a church is downsizing, we may be able to work out a swap of facilities!” the letter read.

“God does have plans for you, even when you’re stuck,” Ferguson said. He called Jonathan, they met for coffee, and the unusual idea grew from there: a church building “swap.”

Kalamazoo

Kalamazoo, Michigan, sits on a river of the same name in southwestern Michigan. After a land rush in the 1830s, the city grew steadily. Dutch immigrants grew so much white and yellow celery in the marshy soil that Kalamazoo was nicknamed “Celery City.” Recent arrivals worked in factories for buggies, windmills, and spring-toothed harrows. People and goods traveled in and out on five railroads.

 In 1850, Dutch immigrants established one of the first churches in Kalamazoo. More Dutch Reformed churches followed; today, there are six Christian Reformed (CRC) churches in the city. It was in a former CRC church building on 2131 Alamo Avenue that Community Presbyterian made its home for over thirty years.

In 1886, a lumberjack-turned-preacher led a tent meeting in Kalamazoo that was the beginning of the Kalamazoo Church of God. Its first pastor, William Hartman, was converted through the Salvation Army and served the Kalamazoo congregation for fifty-three years. In 1960, the church moved to a sprawling new home tucked away in a suburban neighborhood at 811 Gorham Lane. In 2014, they renamed themselves Grace Harbor.

When Ferguson and Cruse would text back and forth about next steps on the building swap, they would use those street numbers. “How are things at 2131?” “How did the vote go at 811?”

A Decision Made in Faith

The idea of swapping facilities was an eyebrow-raising suggestion for the two congregations.

Longtime Community Presbyterian member Mary Alphenaar was born and raised in Kalamazoo in a CRC but was drawn to the Lord at an OPC in California, where she was working as a young adult as a traveling nurse. “I was a lost sheep,” she said. “I had heard the gospel a lot but had never heard it in my heart until I was in Santa Barbara.”

Ironically, when she moved back to Kalamazoo thirty years ago, what drew her to Community was its small size. “I was really blessed by the intimacy and warmth,” she said. “And now here we are, needing a bigger building!”

Initially, Alphenaar was not convinced of the need. She served on an exploratory committee that sent a survey to members. Ninety-three percent responded that yes, a new building was important to improve worship, ministry, and fellowship. “That was a wake-up call for me,” she said.

But what really convinced her were the cold teenagers. “When we started the Sunday school season of 2022, the teenagers had to meet in the unheated garage, with the lawnmower and the snowblower. . . . I thought, this is not right. We need to have a space for these kids.”

When the session put forward the possibility of acquiring 811 Gorham Lane, Alphenaar’s reaction was a surprised interest. The leadership moved slowly—“there were many, many, many meetings.” Some reactions from the congregation were practical: How would they keep up with maintenance on a much larger building? Others were about the church’s identity: What did it mean to leave behind the history in their building? What would their hymn-singing sound like without 2131’s acoustical glory?

Grace Harbor’s congregation was also grappling with the idea. “The congregation has been at that site for as long as I’ve been alive!” Ferguson pointed out. At a critical meeting, descendants of the founding pastor stood up to express that they saw the Lord’s hand at work in moving to a smaller building.

The leaders from the two churches then came together to discuss numbers and timing. “I think that was a real anxious moment for everybody,” Ferguson said. There was of course a value discrepancy between the two properties, and all knew that Community Presbyterian couldn’t make up the difference. “We talked about how important the ministries of the churches were. There was a collegiality, a brotherhood of purpose,” Ferguson said. “I could tell that everybody started to sense the same Spirit.”

There came a point in the meeting when it was time to name a figure. They separated—Grace Harbor’s leadership discussed privately, as did Community Presbyterian’s session. When the two groups rejoined, “they had in their mind the exact same figure,” Ferguson said with a grin.

“I wish everyone could have been present at that meeting,” Jonathan Cruse reflected. “It was about the most impressive display of Christian deference and humility that I have ever witnessed. It was clear from the outset that the folks at Grace Harbor were interested in a win for the church of Christ, not a win for any one congregation.” 

Grace Harbor could have sold the land to developers. But they chose to bless another church with the property instead. They had already gotten value out of the building, Ferguson said, “through the years and generations of discipling for Christ.”

Community Presbyterian received their generosity in faith. “In the end, it was such a remarkable providence,” Alphenaar said. “I personally didn’t need to move [to a new building]. But we needed to move for the classrooms; we needed a nursery space; we needed restrooms that people could access. That’s what moved my vote to yes: this is something that the Lord is providing.”

Grace Harbor voted first, and a few weeks later, Community Presbyterian followed. Both congregations were above 95 percent in favor of the swap.

Worshiping God in Kalamazoo

“Surprisingly, since we moved in, we have filled all those classrooms,” Alphenaar said. She’s watched newer members step up to use gifts she didn’t know they had as they use the new building, and she is taking to heart one elder’s reminder that “the Lord has moved us to this bigger building to be a light in this community.”

But chiefly, Alphenaar is here for what has always been a part of Community Presbyterian and what has been her focal point since first meeting the Lord in California: “I just love to worship the Lord. I love being in and with the body of Christ and being fed each week with faithful, Christ-glorifying preaching.”

The author is managing editor of New Horizons. New Horizons, August 2024.