Writer: Jennifer Karmarmar
Interviews: Jennifer Karmarkar, Wayne Huang
Photographer and multimedia producer: Wayne Huang

“To be a preacher is to be a storyteller, scholar, analyst, entertainer, political theorist, and, most ineffably, the anointed of God.”
Upon This Rock: The Miracles of a Black Church

On Sunday mornings, when Bishop James D. Carrington stands before his congregation at Friendship Baptist Church, he sees the old women in scarlet gabardine and boys in faded jeans, heads bowed in prayer. He hears the soaring gospel riffs from the choir reverberate throughout the cavernous sanctuary. He feels the collective breath of the faithful as they punctuate his booming oratories with “Amen!” and “Preach it now!”

And he wonders, as he has for some 2300 Sundays past, how many people will be inspired to receive the Word.

Carrington, 76, has been the pastor of Friendship Baptist Church since its founding in 1964. He has grown the church from 22 members, worshiping in a small house in Fullerton, Calif., to its present location on ten acres in the affluent community of Yorba Linda. Today, his congregation numbers more than 4,000, making Friendship Baptist Church the largest African American church in Orange County.

A graduate of Reed College in Los Angeles, Carrington rose to the challenge handed his class by Dr. Granville W. Reed, president of the college.

“He used to tell us that, if we were called to pastor, we needed to get out of Los Angeles and go to the suburbs because blacks were moving to various communities and not staying in L.A.,” Carrington says. “So when it came up, I ended up in that slot and I’m thankful to God that He put that seed in my mind and my heart to do it because we were the first black church in north Orange County.”

Black churches have a long and colorful history in this country that dates back to the Revolutionary War and the religious revivalism period, when black slaves were converted to Christianity by circuit-riders and revivalist tents.

Samuel Freedman wrote in Upon This Rock: The Miracles of a Black Church, “With their minds, the slaves grabbed at the concept that anyone could be ‘born again,’ implying as it did an equality of all humans before God; with their hearts and voices and limbs, they celebrated that transformation in ancient ways.”

That celebration continues today in black churches across America. They bellow. They boogie. They whoop and wail their way to a frenzied crescendo, while ushers promptly dispense paper fans to relieve the heat-stroked.

“Why do I shout? WHY DO I SHOUT?” Bishop Carrington asked his congregation on a recent Sunday. “Because I am not ashamed to show the Lord I love Him!”

But this exuberant celebration of the word is only part of the story. Although Friendship’s worship style is similar to the urban black churches of which Freedman writes, their love-thy-neighbor tolerance and openness to diversity are more harmonious with the philosophies of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. than the fiery black liberation rhetoric of Reverends Jeremiah Wright or Johnny Youngblood.

Anger doesn’t play well in Yorba Linda, ‘Land of Gracious Living.’

History

“But this prideful self-sufficiency, this rigor and resolve, were to outsiders the most invisible aspect of what was called during slavery ‘the invisible institution.’”

Upon This Rock – The Miracles of a Black Church

In 1964, when Carrington was called to start his church, Fullerton had one of the largest black populations in Orange County. Whites were moving out of the area and college-educated blacks, lured by jobs in aerospace and other industries, began moving in. And that was good for his church, or so Carrington thought.

“I’m the only black pastor here. I’m in the right place.”

It didn’t happen that way, though – the blacks that came to Orange County began to settle in Santa Ana rather than Fullerton. But Carrington didn’t mind what color you were as long as you came.

“When we were a baby church, I didn’t have to make any special appeals, he said. “If you like singing and you like my style of preaching, come on over and get in the family, cuz one day if you are born again, we are gonna be all together regardless of what color we are. We don’t have to deal with the color, let’s deal with the soul.”

The membership grew and the church began a series of moves until 1972, when they were able to buy property at 706 Lemon Street in Fullerton. Three years later they received an $18,000 grant from the Stamps Foundation, which enabled them to erect a building on the property. This was to be their home for the next eleven years.

Meanwhile, the country was mired deep in the throes of the civil rights movement, forcing black pastors to take on political roles. Carrington remembers April 4, 1968 like it was yesterday.

“I got a call from a minister working for Cal State University in Fullerton. He said ‘Dr. Langsdorf is having a memorial service for Dr. King. Can you come be with us and read a scripture?’”

When Carrington reached the campus, he saw the president of the black student union running toward him.

“He told me, ’Pastor Langsdorf don’t want you to just read a scripture. He wants you to speak to the people!’”

That was one of the biggest challenges of his life, Carrington says, because he had to come up with a message to preach to “all those college-degreed people and professors.” But God gave him the text and he spoke to the whole group.

The assassination of Dr. King was a turning point in Carrington’s life, plunging him into a role as a community activist. He helped establish the first human relations race commission in Orange County and assisted Fullerton in establishing fair housing laws, enabling black students at CSUF to rent apartments that had previously been denied them.

“I was the only black pastor about and so I was called upon by a lot of organizations to talk about what needed to be done about race relations,” he remembers. “As a result I made a lot of good friends.”

Friendship Baptist Church continued to grow and, by 1986 their membership had swelled to 800, resulting in services being held outdoors in the summer months.

That year, the church purchased ten acres of land in pastoral Yorba Linda and began laying the cornerstone for its new home. A lot of people didn’t think the church would make it in that area – there were only two black families in Yorba Linda when they bought the property, Carrington says. But that never bothered him.

“Shortly after we moved we had a lot of people coming from LA and different places, and they would drive right by the church, cuz when they looked at the building they thought it was a white church. We used to get a good laugh about that!” he recalls with a chuckle.

Church as Anchor of the Community

“They are family and more than family, the people of Saint Paul. The blows that would rupture bonds of blood or friendship can somehow be absorbed by a community of faith.”
Upon This Rock: The Miracles of a Black Church

By the time Friendship Baptist Church moved to Yorba Linda in 1987, its congregation had spread out, with many people commuting from surrounding counties. Thus, a new problem arose: How can the church maintain a sense of community when its members are scattered over a five-county area?

Carrington believes the answer lies in the church’s ministries and classes it offers their members.

“Overall, we have a ministry that meets people’s needs and as a result, the church has been growing and growing.”

Indeed, there is something for everybody at Friendship Baptist Church. A recent church bulletin listed 52 classes, workshops and meetings in a single week – everything from bible studies to recovery meetings to gospel aerobics.

Reverend Aubrey Craig teaches New Members 101, a monthly class held in the Carrington Building, a three level brick structure that houses classrooms, meeting rooms and administrative offices.

A soft-spoken man with an easy-going and engaging personality, Craig describes the church as a place of escape and a place of hope.

“It’s like therapy – it relieves your tensions and problems. It makes you want to be somebody.” he says. “We all had a common struggle. This (church) is like a campground where people can come together for one purpose: To embrace one another.”

Joyce Jardell of Yorba Linda is one of the newest members of Friendship Baptist Church, having just completed the New Members class.

“I have been coming here for a while and I felt the pull of friendship,” Jardell said. “I knew I could get my spiritual needs met here and that’s why I came. People accept you here.”

Her friend, Carolyn Richardson, agrees.

“I feel so welcome. Everybody here seems so friendly that I felt like it was home. It’s a place of caring and giving.” she said.

On the same evening, just down the hall, the Celebrate Recovery meeting is getting underway. Led by Reverend Patrick Harris, the meeting is a bible-based, 12 step recovery meeting designed, not only for people with alcohol and drug problems, but “any issue that’s weighing you down.” Harris says.

Tonight, thirteen people (three of them white), with issues ranging from gambling to co-dependency, attend. The meeting begins with scripture, followed by a round of songs led by Harris’ assistant, Duane.

“Don’t give up! ‘Fess up and be accountable! Let it go!” Harris counsels the group throughout the session. “Your worth increases when you give yourself away. So get outside of yourself and help others.”

The second hour the men and women adjourn to separate rooms for topic discussions.

Harris has been in charge of Celebrate Recovery for two years. The program started with a bang four years ago but has dwindled over the years, he says. They are trying some new things to bring people in, like having guest speakers and advertising more in the church. One option they are considering is having members give personal testimonies in front of the church, as a way to get people to relate.

“Nobody really wants to come out of denial,” Harris says.

He was once asked why the ministry is necessary if nobody comes.

“We have the ministry” he replied, “so that when God moves them and they want to do something about (their problem) we’ll be there.”

Youth: The Vision of Tomorrow

“All these efforts sought to create an extended family, to build the village that would raise the child.”
Upon This Rock: Miracles of a Black Church

Ministries are an integral part of the black church and Friendship Baptist Church boasts 23, including men’s and women’s ministries, health care, music, drama and youth and young adult ministries.

Reverend Kenneth Curry is the Minister of Children, Youth and Young Adults, giving him the administrative and spiritual responsibility of youth from birth through 35. With his lanky, athletic build and fun-loving nature, kids are naturally drawn to him.

Curry grew up in Compton, where he and his two brothers faced typical urban issues of busing and gangs. They stayed focused, he says, because of their involvement in church and sports. His upbringing showed him the importance of providing youth with good role models and mentors.

“Youth make direct connections to adults and these connections can make a difference,” he says.

March is Youth Month at the church, and Curry is a ubiquitous presence on campus: Organizing the youth picnic, coordinating youth day, meeting with parent volunteers and popping in and out of various choir and drama rehearsals.

In three hours, he will have 75 or 80 people at the church to help prepare for the youth retreat. Parental involvement is crucial, he says.

“I can’t be everything.”

Part of Curry’s youth program involves working with high school students to prepare them for college. As they transition out of college, he helps get them established in their career and then, in building their family.

“Which starts the cycle here at Friendship all over again,” Curry says.

Friendship Baptist is a church in transition, he says, caught between the older generation on the way out and the new generation coming up.

Curry says it will be interesting to see what the church looks like in the future.

“We’re getting different nationalities now – Hispanic, white, some Asian-American. We don’t know what that means for the future but I believe the essence of us will stay African American.”

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. once said that eleven a.m. on Sunday is the most segregated hour and Reverend Curry believes that is true.

“My issue is not so much the segregation but the preference in worship styles,” Curry says. “When we preach, there is an exuberance, there is a celebration in our worship. It speaks to our heritage. African Americans tend to be open toward other races but it’s important for us to retain our flair and flavor.”

Meanwhile, the church is expanding again – plans are underway to build a $2.7 million youth center that will house a gymnasium, a stage and a wing of classrooms. Long term plans include a playground, a new worship center, preschool classrooms and a mortuary.

And what are Bishop Carrington’s plans for the future?

To tell the truth and stand on the Word of God, he says.

“I’ve done that for forty-something years and I think I’ve made something come out right. I’m hoping that one of these days the Lord will say ‘you’ve done all you can do. I want you to go play.’”