What happens to a church when the congregation moves on?

The bell in the tower no longer peals; it may have even gone with the parishioners.

Weddings and baptisms are celebrated elsewhere.

Though the people are the real church, “wherever two or more are gathered...,” the building remains as a testament to the history of the site.

<B>BEFORE A CHURCH</B> building can be used for an alternate purpose, there is typically a service of deconsecration, said the Rev. Matthew Judd, pastor of Cabot United Methodist Church.The congregation last year left a churchful of memories at 501 Winfield Road to expand into the former Winfield Township Elementary School.“All sacramental or worship objects are removed,” Judd said. Even the stained glass windows were taken to the new site.“It’s no longer called a house of worship. It’s freed up for honorable usage.”“A bar wanted to buy it, but that was voted down by congregation,” said Judd, who came to the parish after the move but before the sale of the building with the sand-colored cornerstone imprinted with the year 1921.“As they told me,” said new owner Steven Dietz, “the old members of the church wrote a clause into the deed that alcohol can never be sold from here. That deterred a lot of people from buying it. The church as a whole had to vote that a photography business was OK.”Dietz is using the church for his Sharp Image Studios.“Not too many people believe in buying an old church, but the SBA (Small Business Administration) saw the business implications,” Dietz said.“For years, photographers have chosen old churches for the cathedral ceilings with no center support beams. You can have a clear shot down the middle without a beam in the shot. And the lighting is perfect: 360 degrees of natural light.“I think, too, an old church has good energy, and photography is a pretty creative process.”<br></br>

Renovations to the bottom floor and education wing of the building have allowed Dietz living space and two rental properties; one almost ready to rent, the other still in progress under the new peaked roof, built to replace the flat roof on the classroom addition.It took a year to make it livable, knocking down walls, redoing wiring and plumbing and installing a contemporary kitchen, and another year to finish the rest, he said.“It’s been challenging. You can’t just go into Home Depot and buy a door that will fit. Everything’s large sizes.”<br></br>

Dietz is living in the original library and sleeping in the old food pantry. In the cavernous space of the church itself, he wants to build a loft for computer equipment to preserve the open floor space of his studio. Local photographers will be able to use it, too, he said.“I still get people in here who think this is still a church,” Dietz said. “I go out and there are people standing in the church, someone saying, ‘Where is the restroom?’ During Lent, people came asking, ‘Where is the fish dinner?’ The trustees of the church were my heating and cooling guys, so they try to keep the people of the church informed.”There haven’t been any other visitors except the real-life ones, though Dietz is eager to hear any ghost stories.“Of course, it’s an old building; it makes funny noises, and it’s heated by hot water so the pipes expand and contract,” he said. “People always ask me, ‘Do you sleep OK there?’ Yeah, I do.”<br></br>

<B>JOHN CHRUSCINSKI SLEEPS</B> in the house next door to the church he bought at 17 Chesapeake St. in Lyndora. He is the second owner since the building was used for religious purposes.Bob and Shirley Mueller, the previous owners, briefly used the site for an antique business. The building was St. John Roman Catholic Church from 1904 to 1995.Chruscinski, who is from Florida, bought the house and church together last year.“I found them accidentally on eBay,” he said. “There was a picture of the house and it said, ‘and church.’ I wanted to see the church.”Chruscinski has an Internet business, Tropic Comics, specializing in comic books, toys, movie posters, albums, films and books, among other items. He at one time owned four comic book stores on Florida’s Southeast coast.“I flew up here and fell in love with this town,” he said.He’s been here a little over a year now.It took six hand-loaded tractor-trailers to transport his inventory to Pennsylvania. A few friends and employees moved with him.“That was a once-in-a- lifetime move,” he said.<br></br>

One plus for him is the Butler Township Post Office right down the road, which is useful to his business.“And I can’t believe there are yard sales here every day,” he said enthusiastically.“I’ve never experienced spring before. I worked one winter in New Jersey but this was only my second time for snow.”The winter weather hasn’t been a drawback for the native Floridian. “I’ve only got to walk 20 feet to work,” he noted.Drawbacks, however, include the heating bill for a cathedral-ceilinged building and the maintenance necessary for a 100-year-old structure. But he now has 8,000 square feet of space upstairs and downstairs, whereas in Florida he was renting 2,200 square feet of storage.“I feel blessed by God every day I walk in here,” he said.<br></br>

He’s become enthralled with the history of the church and has begun to recover a few things that were there, like candlesticks and a few photographs.“We went over to Wally Yaracs’ auction one night,” he said. “We weren’t planning on going. It was a spur of the moment thing. These candlesticks came up and they said these are candlesticks from a church in Lyndora. And we were screaming to try to find out which church; we were in the back and they couldn’t hear us. Well, we got them anyway.”He has subsequently identified them from a vintage photo taken inside St. John’s.“I’m in touch with a couple of people who went to this church ... We like to hear stories,” he added.<br></br>

<B>THE WAY S. MATTHEW</B> DiPippa came to have his office in the former Mount Chestnut Presbyterian Church in Franklin Township is a story in itself.A chiropractor in Butler for 12 years, DiPippa’s practice has been occupying the building on Route 422 west since September.His wife, Jacki, urged him to see the possibility of moving his practice to the former church as a sign.“I decided to leave a partnership on a Wednesday. I called a Realtor the same day. The Realtor found the (church) building on Thursday,” DiPippa recalled. “I didn’t want to look at it. I thought it would be too expensive, but my wife said, ‘It’s a sign from God. Go look at it.’“I looked at it on Friday and had an agreement on Monday. Within two weeks we bought it, and moved in six weeks. Everything just fell into place. It was almost like we were meant to be here.”It turns out DiPippa has other connections to the church besides his love of the building.“My wife’s extended family has a lot of history here. Her sister’s husband’s family was one of the founding members of this church,” he said. “And I have a patient whose either father or grandfather … helped build the church. They fired the bricks right here.”DiPippa, who likes woodworking so much he has made custom kitchens and furniture, is completing renovation work himself “a little at a time,” along with his father, Mike.“It looked more like an office; we’re trying to bring back more of the church look,” DiPippa said.<br></br>

Some renovation took place with the previous owner, such as a handicapped-accessible ramp. The bell tower was made into storage area. It was opened as Mount Chestnut Presbyterian Church in 1858.Only one little original window is visible.“One of my goals is to bring the big windows back again with new stained glass,” DiPippa said.Because of the church background, some of his renovations have been interpreted as non-office items — the reception desk, for example.“Someone came in and thought it was a kneeler,” he smiled.He said he has people searching for old photographs and hopes to “find a picture of the pews and replicate them.”As for the original construction, “It’s been standing for 150 years,” said DiPippa. “I don’t think it’s going to fall down anytime soon.”