Renting God’s House: One Congregation’s Search for A Faith Home of Their Own

Rebecca Clark-Callender
The Blueprint
Published in
5 min readNov 2, 2019

As voices rose to sing the refrain of the service’s third hymn, the bibles in the pews remained untouched. Lyrics, in Spanish, flashed on a projector screen, while the holy texts, in Korean, sat idle in the pews: small, leather-bound reminders for this congregation that their Sunday sanctuary is actually a rental.

For three years, Grace Tabernacle Church, or Tabernáculo de Gracia, has been renting space to worship from Bethel Korean United Methodist Church, in the Kingsbridge neighborhood of the northwest Bronx. And for approximately the past seven years Grace has been growing, defying the nationwide trend of declining church attendance.

“Friends started inviting friends and then they were like, hey we want to meet more often,” said Pastor Kerlin Calderon, as he described Grace Tabernacle’s small beginnings as a Bible study group. The 35 year-old, who now confidently preaches in front of nearly 100 people every Sunday, at first didn’t know what to do with the growing crowd. “We kinda got scared at the beginning,” he said. “We kept getting more people, and we were not ready.”

Ready or not, though, they kept coming. And it’s not hard to see why. Pastor Calderon’s quick smile, genuine warmth, and passion while preaching makes for a compelling presence — and not just in church.

“I think of him as a friend first and a pastor second,” said Victor Cruz, 35, who helps lead church set-up every Sunday. Cruz, a part-time photographer, met Calderon over 14 years ago when he started attending a church in Inwood. “He was there when I arrived,” said Cruz, who deeply disagrees with his pastor about the Yankees, but has nothing except praise for him as a friend. “He was one of the first people who not only welcomed, but embraced me,” Cruz said.

The Bible study group moved from house to house, and finally into members’ backyards. Pastor Calderon said they tried capping attendance, but found themselves thinking bigger, “We just started to dream about having a church in the Bronx that would be community oriented. That was something that was big on us, making sure the community knew about the church, but [also] that the church knew about the community.”

Without the funds of an established congregation, though, the group needed to meet in another church in the neighborhood — St. Peter the Apostle Greek Orthodox Church — that rented a space to them for $200 per hour.

They started holding services once a month, then bi-weekly, but the congregation wanted to meet more often. “We started to pray,” said Pastor Calderon, as he and the leadership team began spreading the word that they wanted a more permanent space.

Finally, in the fall of 2016, they found Bethel Korean United Methodist Church on Bailey Avenue in the Kingsbridge section of Bronx.

Bethel Korean had been around for nearly 40 years. The congregation was older, and the services more traditional. Organ music filled the sanctuary during their communion, and a choir, dressed in white robes with purple trim, performed Sunday hymns accompanied by a grand piano. Most importantly, they had room and were willing to share it.

The senior church’s offer to share their sanctuary turned Sundays at the two-story, pink and beige building into a busy scene of remarkable worship logistics.

As the Bethel Korean congregation transitioned downstairs after their morning service to the large, purple-walled Fellowship Room, Grace Tabernacle organizers, moving in the opposite direction, sped up the red, carpeted staircase to transform the sanctuary before their 1:30pm service.

By the time the congregation began filing in — a mix of kids, teenagers, and adults — banners, pamphlets, and posters peppered the church with Grace Tabernacle’s logo. Inside the sanctuary, a black curtain hid both the large wooden pulpit and metal altar, providing a better backdrop for the church’s five-member band: two guitarists, one drummer, one pianist, and one violinist. A sound mixer behind the last pew constantly attended to the instrument levels, along with the microphones used by the four singers and pastor.

With all that is new, though, members of the church collectively praised Pastor Calderon’s ability to keep the original tenants of the faith in the fold.

“He’s amazing,” said Lisi Bosono by phone, who started getting involved with the group after her son came home with glowing reviews of Pastor Calderon’s message and style. “He combines the two worlds, old and new.” When asked if she had a favorite thing about Grace Tabernacle, Bisono couldn’t choose. “I love everything about our church,” she said.

But Grace Tabernacle still wants for its own space. Bethel Korean’s kindness, says Bisono, can’t accommodate all the goals the younger congregation has for its relationship with the community. The budding church has big aspirations in a neighborhood that has a shortage of community centers and afterschool programs. “They’re great people, but we’re restricted,” says Bisono. “There’s not enough space to do all the things we want to do.”

Earlier this year, a Back-to-School Jam gave out over 300 backpacks and packets of school supplies. Later this fall, they’ll host their second financial literacy night for young adults, and at Thanksgiving they plan to assemble a food pantry for those who can’t afford to make their own meals.

Victor Cruz expressed deep interest in creating more mental health programs for the church, but without their own building, he says, all of that is harder to do. “Some of those ideas and goals that we hope [for], I think we could be further along in the process if we were to have our own space.”

So, the search continues, as Grace Tabernacle’s leadership tries to find an affordable location that will allow them to fully pursue all of those hopes.

But on Sunday, as the congregation met Pastor Calderon’s words with open tears, infectious laughter, loud applause, and soft hugs, it was hard to imagine, just for a few hours, that the space hadn’t always been theirs — that the home they longed for hadn’t already been found.

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Rebecca Clark-Callender
The Blueprint

Columbia Journalism student. Passionate about science, scoreboards, and shea butter.