The members had been aging and the membership shrinking for decades, until there were only about 20 individuals routinely attending services by the end — making financial support of the parish unfeasible, according to Norm Saylor, interim and final pastor of a church founded in 1844.

The congregation might have continued a little longer under the Susquehanna Conference of the United Methodists, but Saylor and most active members wanted to disaffiliate as part of a conservative breakaway over LGBT and other policies, and that would have required a payment of $100,000, which they couldn’t afford, Saylor said.

Since the dissolution, Saylor and most of the final remnant have joined Cross of Calvary Church, which previously disaffiliated to join the conservative breakaway, which is known as the Global Methodist Church, according to Saylor, who is now interim pastor at Cross of Calvary.

“It’s sad,” said Antis Township Supervisor Brian Kustaborder, whose family was part of the Trinity congregation for generations.

Norm Saylor stands outside of Trinity United Methodist Church on Main Street in Bellwood, which has been put up for auction with a minimum bid of $80,000. Mirror photo by Patrick Waksmunski

The minimum bid for the buildings is $80,000, said Michael Roan of Roan Real Estate in Williamsport, which has marketed 22 United Methodist church buildings since 2019.

The Trinity building “is the most impressive so far,” Roan stated in an auction notice.

“You have to see it to appreciate it,” said Perry Haupt, who had been a member of Trinity from 1959 until about 10 years ago.

The buildings are mainly built of stone quarried on a nearby mountain, with 21,000 square feet total, plus two parking lots and a garage, according to the auction notice.

There is a bronze bell, leaded stained glass windows, a commercial kitchen and a banquet room, according to the notice.

The cornerstone of Trinity United Methodist Church on Main Street in Bellwood. Mirror photo by Patrick Waksmunski

Because the borough of Bellwood has no zoning, there are no restrictions on a reuse, according to Roan.

Ideally, it could become a church again, provided it was led by “a strong and dynamic speaker,” Haupt said.

It would be a “beautiful situation” for such a charismatic pastor, although it would require significant fundraising to “get back in business,” Haupt said.

A downward trend

For years, United Methodist churches have been troubled by declining attendance, according to Roan.

COVID-19 shutdowns were “the final nail,” as only half of many parishioners returned when things reopened, he said.

When UM congregations dissolve, the buildings go back to the conference, and the conference has been listing them with him to sell, according to Roan.

Some of those have become homes for other churches, some have become wedding venues, some have become family residences, he said.

Other uses include a community theater — one in Centerville, Bedford County, is the new home of the Bedford County Players; a dog grooming shop, food bank, caterer and banquet hall, he said.

A restaurant wouldn’t be out of the question in Bellwood, he said.

Roan recommended the $80,000 minimum for Trinity based on his experience, he said.

It would cost $2 million to build nowadays, he guessed.

That number is probably “light,” according to Kustaborder.

Sixty years ago, several years after he became a member, Trinity undertook a major renovation, according to Haupt.

At that time there were 300 members, and it was a thriving operation, he said.

Saylor became a member in 1976, around the time he got married.

Over the years, however, the parish grew stagnant, “not reaching new people,” due to “not preaching the Gospel,” Saylor said.

Eventually, by the early 1990s, as members died, it became clear that something needed to change, Saylor said.

But there was only indifference when he pointed out the crisis to the congregation as chairman of the administrative board, he said.

At the time, there were about 100 active members of the church, the minimum needed to sustain the operation financially, he said.

The decline continued, and by 2010, the congregation had shrunk to about 60, he said.

Toward the end, it was costing about $800 a month for heat, there was a $15,000 annual “apportionment” charge from the Susquehanna Conference and there were taxes on the parsonage, Saylor said.

The congregation didn’t pay its apportionment bills for 2021, 2022 and 2023.

Saylor said the church would have had to make those back payments, along with the 2024 apportionment, plus the approximately $50,000 cost for the building, to disaffiliate from the conference.

Even without the disaffiliation payment that the members couldn’t afford, the financial situation was dire, he said.

“When your outgo exceeds your income, your upkeep will be your downfall,” he stated.

Technically, there were about 100 additional members on the church rolls, but there was virtually no response to letters the parish sent alerting those members in name only to the news that the active members were about to withdraw from the conference, Saylor said.

If he had it to do over, Saylor would have left the parish much sooner, probably in the late 1980s, before it was in terminal decline, he said.

“(But) I’m a very loyal person,” he said.

Differences in doctrine

For congregations wishing to disaffiliate, the conference was charging 1% of the assessed value of their church properties, which are owned by the conference, plus any apportionment payments in arrears from 2020-23 and an additional year’s apportionment; all other unpaid debts to the conference; clergy compensation through June 2023 and $1,000 in legal fees, said Liz Lennox, Susquehanna Conference spokeswoman.

The apportionment charges are calculated using the formula based on the church’s compensation for its pastor and staff and its operating expenses, Lennox said.

Of the 781 congregations in the Susquehanna Conference, 141 have disaffiliated to join the Global Methodists, Lennox said.

Those disaffiliations were ratified by the conference last year, and the breakaway congregations “sent off with a blessing,” she said.

The breakaways happened despite prohibitions in the United Methodist Book of Discipline at the national level against ordination of gay clergy and against pastors marrying gay couples, Lennox said.

The conservatives seem to regard enforcement of those prohibitions as too lax, Lennox acknowledged.

The mainstream United Methodists have been “off the rails with a lot of their beliefs,” according to Saylor.

Those beliefs have been problematic because they don’t align with Scripture, he said, and have included the belief that marriage didn’t necessarily need to be between a man and a woman.

A pastor in eastern Pennsylvania married his son to another man, and received a mere one-day suspension, he said.

“He should have been defrocked,” Saylor stated.

There were other issues too — including lack of faith in the Biblical creation story and support at the national level for abortion, Saylor said.

“The church is supposed to change society,” he said. But in the case of the United Methodists, it had been the other way around, he said.

Saylor and the remnant from Trinity are “perfectly happy” in their new church home, according to Saylor. “That chapter is closed,” he said of Trinity.

“Truth doesn’t unite — it divides,” he said, taking a philosophical view of the split.

Some members of Trinity chose to remain with the United Methodist Church and have since become part of other UMC communities, according to Joleen Willis, district superintendent for the Susquehanna Conference.

On Friday, Mark Shultz of Bellwood, 25, was driving by the former Trinity building and stopped.

He used to attend Trinity, and now goes to Cross of Calvary, where Saylor preaches.

It’s disappointing to see the old churches being abandoned, Shultz said.

But maybe the loss of membership that led to those abandonments represents the falling away of people who didn’t have much faith to begin with, he said.

He himself is full of a feeling of renewal as a member of the new congregation, and is trying to live the faith, he said.

Mirror Staff Writer William Kibler is at 814-949-7038.