Buddhist spiritual leader Richard Normand gently strikes a bell, breaking the candlelit meditation of six of his brethren at Roanoke's Christ Episcopal Church as rain splatters against the basement windows.

Across town, several women leave Huntington Court United Methodist Church and venture into Mision Hispana, a Spanish-language congregation held in the Methodist church's fellowship hall. The women coo over the newborn son of a young Hispanic mother.

Nationwide, a growing number of fledgling churches are getting their start in the basements, fellowship halls and youth rooms of established churches. This "upstairs/downstairs" arrangement functions as a faith incubator, allowing new congregations to save money and build a thriving membership until they can afford a home of their own.

Ministers say it is a way for their churches to reach across denominations or bridge ethnic divides by sharing sacred space for an indefinite time. Both congregations are enriched with a cross-pollination of beliefs. Most churches foster new congregations of the same denomination, while others host different types of believers.

"It opens people up to new things in their own spiritual practice," said the Rev. Deborah Hentz Hunley of Christ Episcopal, which shares space with Buddhists and Sufis.

In the Roanoke region, several Catholic parishes have gotten a start in temporary quarters, including Resurrection Catholic hosted by Bethlehem United Methodist in the mid-1980s. A predominantly gay and lesbian church held its early services in the Unitarian Universalist Church until it could buy its own building. And the New Hope Korean Church has met in a Sunday school room at Covenant Presbyterian Church since late 2004.

"We felt we had a special obligation to host another Presbyterian congregation that was looking for space," said the Rev. Robert Fiedler.

George Klippenes, of the Evangelical Free Church of America in Minneapolis, said his group doesn't set "upstairs/downstairs" policy for its member churches, but there are boundaries.

"We have a number of churches-within-churches, especially among our Hispanic or other ethnic groups," he said. "We don't have any denominational policy, but local churches would not release their facilities to a cult or a group that is not a Christian relation."

Some mainstream churches, facing graying populations and declining membership, find that sharing space can bring an infusion of new lifeblood.

"In changing neighborhoods, it is a way the traditional congregations can remain on scene," said Bill Leonard, dean at the Divinity School at Wake Forest University.

Spiritual expansion

At Mision Hispana, the Rev. Gustavo Segovia, 31, opens his Bible. He slings his guitar over his shoulder and lights a candle.

Immigrants originally from Cuba, Bolivia, Mexico and Honduras sit in the pews and recite psalms from La Santa Biblia. They sing slightly off-key together as the Spanish lyrics are projected on a wall.

Segovia and his wife, Lori, 29, started a church in Blacksburg with one parishioner in September 2005. Their congregation now has about two dozen members.

In early August, they held their inaugural Roanoke service at Huntington Court Methodist Church. Segovia has a grant from the Virginia Methodist Conference to connect with the region's Hispanic population in church services, family visits and Bible studies.

These are two of 13 Hispanic ministries in the area. They frequently socialize with other denominations, including the Rev. Job Marquez's group that meets upstairs at North Roanoke Baptist Church.

"The primary objective of Mision Hispana is the option of a better life," Gus Segovia said. "The people are looking for help, a refuge, food, immigration or legal help. We try to help them spiritually and in other ways."

In June, the Segovias hope to have 10-day Christian fairs in Blacksburg and Roanoke with concerts, Bible studies, children's activities and other events involving people regionally and from several Mexican states.

The couple have put all their energies into expanding the Blacksburg and Roanoke churches, hoping they will become independent one day.

"Gus is very brave about this and doesn't get discouraged," Lori Segovia said. "We know it will build slowly."

The Rev. Russell Cheatham, pastor at the host Methodist church, said the congregations help estranged newcomers and foster understanding between the communities.

"Demographics say there are 6,000 Hispanics on Williamson Road. We're trying to bring life and help to that community," Cheatham said. "It is just outreach. God loves all people."

'More of a melting pot'

Normand, a lanky California refugee, tosses down cushions as he prepares the Zen Buddhist's zendo, or meditation space.

On Sundays in downtown Roanoke, the Episcopal ninth- through 12th-graders study religions at Sunday school at Christ Episcopal Church, while the Buddhists gather on Wednesday nights and Saturday mornings.

The Stone Mountain Zendo has used the church's basement room since 1998, when its practice moved from a Roanoke house where it started in 1979. Normand said they give the Episcopal church a yearly donation of about $300 and accommodate the church during Lent and other times when they need the entire building.

A half-dozen Buddhists on this evening slip off their shoes in the hall. Everyone bows, takes a seat on the cushions and faces the wall to meditate -- straight backs, lotus legs. Later, there is drumming and recitation of the Heart Sutra, a traditional chant. The bell rings and people stand, bowing three times to end the session.

"We're deeply grateful for the space," Normand said. "This is so central, and it's easy for people to get here."

Upstairs on the following Sunday, the hour-long Episcopal service is punctuated with hymns and readings.

After the church service, parishioners Pam and Tim Shepherd said they didn't know about the Buddhist practice, but they welcomed its presence.

"This church is way cool, and it is more of a melting pot," Tim Shepherd said. "It's always got its arms open."

A space of their own

After gaining a foothold in the community, some churches are able to outgrow their shared space.

The Metropolitan Community Church of the Blue Ridge, a mainly gay and lesbian community formed by a dozen founders, met on Sunday afternoons at the Unitarian Universalist Church in Roanoke for more than 11 years. They occupied the building for about three hours a week. Eventually, the young congregation wanted a space of its own. At that time, meetings and Bible studies were held in the same location as church services.

The congregation moved in July 1998 to an 800-square-foot storefront church on Kirk Avenue. They joked that the storage closet was "annex seating" if people were late to the service. In 2003, the congregation moved after buying a large church building at 806 Jamison Ave.

Just last year, MCC received a "gentle inquiry" from a Quaker group for sharing space, but there was a conflict for Sunday mornings.

The Unitarian Universalist Church "provided us with a steady place of worship," said the Rev. Catherine Houchins of the MCC. "We're always appreciative of their support and encouragement in the early days. And, in turn, we would be very open to sharing our space."