E
dward Carl Burrows' ears still ring with the sweet melodies of his childhood Sundays at First Presbyterian Church in Paterson. The retired actor, now 65 and living in Hawthorne, recalls a sanctuary where music was woven into every fiber of worship. "It wasn't just about attending church; it was an experience," he reminisces. "We'd dress up, gather with family and friends, and let the hymns wash over us like a warm breeze."

    As Burrows' siblings and he entered the redbrick church on Main Street, they were enveloped by a sea of familiar faces – aunts, uncles, cousins, and neighbors. The congregation of over 150 people swelled with song, their voices blending in perfect harmony as they sang "Holy, Holy, Holy" and "How Great Thou Art." Burrows' gaze would often drift upward to the stunning stained-glass windows, half-expecting to catch a glimpse of angels smiling down.

    But like so many other churches across New Jersey and the nation, First Presbyterian's pews eventually emptied, and the once-vibrant building began to crumble. In 2018, the Presbyterian Church opted to close its doors and sell the property, joining a growing list of shuttered houses of worship in Paterson, including St. Michael the Archangel Catholic Church, Gloria Dei Lutheran Church in New Milford, First United Methodist Church of Dover, and Holy Spirit Catholic Church in Asbury Park.

    The story of First Presbyterian's decline is not unique; it's a tale repeated across the Garden State, where churches are being repurposed as apartments or torn down to make way for housing developments. In South Jersey, one church is slated to be replaced by a McDonald's. The trend speaks to shifting spiritual habits and the financial strain of maintaining aging buildings.

    According to Presbyterian researcher Eileen Lindner, at least 100 churches in America are sold every month. Based on her research, she predicts that between 2010 and 2030, some 100,000 Protestant churches will be sold – a staggering statistic that doesn't account for Roman Catholic churches, which have also experienced closures.

    Lindner attributes the trend to the COVID-19 pandemic, but notes that churches were already facing a 30-year decline due to aging populations and buildings. As people turned to online worship or livestream services, some decided it was easier not to attend altogether.

    While painful for former parishioners, the wave of church closures presents an opportunity to breathe new life into beautiful old structures. The New Hope Church in Newark has been repurposed as a charter school, while Upper Freehold Baptist and Cokesbury Presbyterian have become charming homes. Our Lady of Assumption Church in Bayonne will be demolished and replaced by townhomes.

    In Epping, New Hampshire, St. Joseph's Church was converted into The Holy Grail restaurant, its signs now advertising "Divine Foods & Heavenly Spirits" instead of Mass times. Experts say they're not surprised by the glut of church closings; between 2008 and 2022, the number of Americans who reported never attending religious services ballooned from 45 million to 85 million.

    As Burrows drives past his old church, he's reminded that even in decline, the building remains a testament to the community it once served. "The building is still standing," he says with a smile. "That's the important thing." Before driving away, he closes his eyes and lets the music wash over him once more – a bittersweet reminder of a bygone era when faith and song filled every Sunday morning.