The Abandoned Macedonia Free Will Baptist Church

As Philadelphia’s population grew in the years following the Civil War, churches eyes growing neighborhoods in areas that were, at that time, on the city’s outskirts. The Spring Garden Street Presbyterian Church saw the corner of 21st Street and Columbia Avenue (now Cecil B. Moore Ave.) as a prime location for expansion and commissioned architect Henry Augustus Sims to design a brownstone chapel for a new congregation. Sims worked with his brother James P. Sims on many projects and created plans for numerous churches, including the First Presbyterian Church on 21st and Walnut and the Church of the Advent in Cape May, NJ. Along with his brother, he also designed the Girard Avenue Bridge.

As the congregations at Spring Garden and the Fairmount Presbyterian Church were dwindling, they merged with the Columbia Avenue church, which necessitated an expansion of the building. Architect J. William Shaw was commissioned and designed the sanctuary the building is most notable for presently. Built in the Richardson Romanesque Revival style for $55,000, the sanctuary reflected the new aesthetic of Protestant churches at the time, which leaned toward a more theatrical layout, sometimes compared to a baseball diamond, with improved sightlines and acoustics. Over the organ behind the pulpit, a beautiful arch of Tiffany glass was installed, and the stained-glass windows were by Tiffany’s studios as well. The complex was renamed the McDowell Memorial Presbyterian Church in honor of the recently deceased Rev. John McDowell, pastor of the Spring Garden Presbyterian Church.

As white congregants left the area during the Great Depression, the original congregation dissolved in 1936, and a new church was instituted to serve African-American residents – the McDowell Memorial Community Presbyterian Church Sunday School Mission. This church was eventually acquired by the Macedonia Free Will Baptist Church in 1954.

Macedonia was headed by Reverend Quinton D. Davis, who was born in Georgia but moved to Philadelphia to avoid terrorism against Blacks in the South. For years, he held church services in nearby homes, and it must have been gratifying when he held his first sermon at the new Macedonia Free Will Baptist Church in 1961. In the following years, the church continued to serve the community with sermons, a strong music ministry led by the Davis Chorus, community activism, and outreach through food pantries, banquets, and other events. Davis led the church for nearly twenty years until 1980, when he died in a car accident driving to his brother’s funeral.

It’s unclear when the church closed, but the last listing for events at the church was a free reading of Ain Gordon’s play If She Stood in 2016, and it was listed for sale in 2018. When I photographed it in 2019, it was in relatively good condition despite some peeling paint and water damage towards the north entryway. I’ve heard that not long after I went there, the Tiffany arch was removed, and the pews were cut up, but I’m not sure for what purpose. The building is still clearly vacant, now covered with graffiti, and the lovely Tiffany stained glass windows are boarded over. At some point between August 2019 and November 2020, the roof on the rear portion of the building, which housed the Sunday School and lecture space, collapsed. Between November 2020 and 2022 that section was demolished, and shockingly, the tower, which was one of the most notable features of the exterior and appeared structurally sound, was entirely clipped off.

The casual disregard and demolition by neglect in Philadelphia should no longer be surprising, as it is a city that seems eager to throw its rich architectural heritage into the landfill. Nevertheless, seeing so little effort put into maintaining sites that enrich the character of the neighborhoods around them remains continually frustrating and disheartening. Even if Macedonia Free Will Baptist Church was no longer viable for reuse as a religious space, it could have continued to benefit the community in dozens of other ways. Instead, it will be picked over by thieves and broken apart by vandals until it is eventually bulldozed. Judging from the lack of coverage of the tower’s destruction, few outside the immediate area will notice or care – in fact, they may likely be glad to see the “eyesore” removed due to the risk of fire or falling masonry. It’s an old story in Philadelphia by now. Honestly, it’s a story I’m tired of writing over and over, and yet it’s the one most neglected places there have to tell.