COMMENTARY: KEN HERMAN What's it gonna take to put you in one of our pews today? Ken Herman, AUSTIN AMERICAN-STATESMAN Tuesday, September 15, 2009 As best we can tell, the purpose of this pathetic decade has been repurposing. Factories have been repurposed. People have been repurposed. Purposes have been repurposed. So why not a repurposing from Chrysler to Christ? Simply overstated, it's the Miracle on the Motor Mile and it's underway in South Austin. What used to be Maxwell Chrysler on Interstate 35 near William Cannon Boulevard is becoming Oak Meadow Baptist Church. Let that one marinate a moment. A car dealership is becoming a house of prayer. Here are some basic elements for your do-it-yourself jokes: Saving you a few bucks versus saving you. A lifetime warranty versus a beyond-a-lifetime warranty. Oak Meadow Baptist Pastor Gilbert Chavez is aware of the humor potential. But where you and I see cheap humor, he sees something else. "I said I think I can see a church there," Chavez recalled of the first time he took a look at the place. Go to statesman.com/opinion for my video of Chavez' tour of his church's future home. Oak Meadow Baptist's story was interesting long before it bought the closed dealership. It's a tale of two churches, reflecting Austin's changes in the past half-century. South First Baptist Church was established in 1965 and eventually paid off its six-acre site on South First Street near Ben White Boulevard. In 1997, Chavez – fresh from Big Spring in West Texas– started Genesis Baptist Church to serve English-speaking Hispanics. Genesis began with Bible study in homes, moving later to temporary sites in Congress Avenue Baptist Church's fellowship hall, Bedichek Middle School's cafeteria and rented space near South First and Oltorf streets. By 2000, Genesis was a small, but growing, Hispanic church without a building. South First Baptist had a building, six acres and a declining and aging white membership. On Jan. 1, 2001, the two churches became one as Oak Meadow Baptist at the South First location. Chavez said plans to expand into the metal building housing the church gym seemed cost prohibitive. Everything changed when a man representing developers walked into Chavez' office with an offer for the church property. It was "a significant amount of money," Chavez said. After some talking and praying, the deal was done and Oak Meadow Baptist began looking for a new home. Several potential sites fell through. Then, the church's real estate man mentioned the old Maxwell Chrysler location. "We were able to purchase this property with cash," Chavez said of the February transaction. For now, it's still just an abandoned dealership. You can see the offices where deals were done. There's some leftover advertising for 2005 models. There's much to be done to make it a church, but Chavez hopes the first phase — with a fellowship hall and temporary sanctuary in the main showroom — can be done by spring. Phase two is a permanent sanctuary in the shop that's now a cavernous empty space with some reminders of the work that used to go on in there. "Fix it right the first time," says one sign. Another sign offers lessons with Chrysler-to-Christ, wrenches-to-religion, crossover appeal. It's labeled "Just for Today" and offers inspirational tips for mechanics, including "I will live through the next 10 hours and not try to tackle all of life's problems at once." Sound advice, whether you're trying to align front ends or lives. The Lord, we're told, works in mysterious ways. So does the real estate market. kherman@statesman.com;445-3907