The Intercultural Journey: How the Lord Showed Up in a CRC Church

The Latino population in Grand Rapids tripled between 1990 and 2000. I didn’t need to read a report or see a newspaper story to know that the Roosevelt Park neighborhood was the epicenter of this demographic expansion. When I walked in the park, there were lines of Latino children waiting to play on the swings and the merry-go-round. In the midafternoon, I’d often sit in traffic on Grandville Avenue watching Latino parents pick up their little ones from Hall School. By the advent of the new millennium, there were more than 25,000 Latinos in the city and most of them lived in my neighborhood. Adjusting to the American experience was in the DNA of the Roosevelt Park Community Christian Reformed Church, so we talked often about the best ways to open our arms to our newest neighbors. 

Pastor Pablo quickly began an English as a second language class. He used the Bible as a teaching tool and the classes packed our church basement. Hearing the conversations and feeling the energy in the church made my heart sing. A shift was happening—as we reached the tenth anniversary of the Roosevelt Park Community Christian Reformed Church, I saw members engaged with community participants eager to come inside our church. The community experienced true hospitality from our members. That sort of hospitality had always been there, but too often over the past decade it was kept below the surface. I began to hear from community people that the Roosevelt Park Community Church was not a whites-only church. 

Soon after the ESL classes began, we started a Spanish-language service, immediately following our 10 am service. With Pastor Pablo preaching and a worship team assembled, there were about twenty people in attendance. What they lacked in size was made up for in enthusiasm, movement, and laughter. I’d often see these folks waiting outside the sanctuary for their service to begin as those of us inside sang our last song of the morning.

In the late winter of 2005, Pablo disclosed something unusual that was happening in his service. Some worshippers opted to attend the English language service instead of the Spanish service he led. I was confused—these Spanish speakers could not understand the sermons I preached, the announcements we made, the prayers we prayed, or the songs we sung. Pablo said they had told him they would rather be in a service with a larger group than sitting in a small gathering after the English service. They wanted to be included, not separated.

Pablo and I took this bilingual surprise to the church council and I could see plenty of confused looks on their faces. 

The first elder to speak said, “We’ve tinkered with the main service a lot over the past few years and none of it has been especially welcomed. It’s not a time to suggest changing anything.”

Another added, “We created this service specifically for them.” He sounded irritated and like he thought the Latino worshippers were ungrateful. “Why would people attend a service when they don’t understand what’s being said?”

There was quick opposition when someone floated the idea of creating a bilingual service. “Our people just won’t go for it,” one of the elders said. “Having two languages during worship borders on being schizophrenic.” 

But Pablo and I also believed the Holy Spirit was up to something. We believed if we kept up a gentle but persistent pressure, at least some white members would see the light. We asked the council to allow us to try a bilingual service. The sermon would be in English with translation in headphones provided for Spanish speakers. The council thought that sounded like a pragmatic solution and gave the go ahead. In May 2005, we held our first bilingual service and it was a hit with most of the English-speaking and Spanish-speaking people in the congregation. 

Intercultural ministry can happen when the community shows up as a church that creates disruption and an opportunity to notice the Lord has answered the prayers of His people to bring people unto himself. Very often the journey begins with an interruption we never saw coming. That’s a good thing.   

(An excerpt from “Roosevelt Park Rising” by Reginald Smith, Reformed Journal Books, 2026)