Pastor, Small Congregation Try to Save 'Pink Church'

In a field where most women don't last more than five years, Yolanda Moreno is in her 18th year. Pastor of the “pink” church in Watsonville, she does the hardest type of ministry—as a transitional pastor who helps failing churches “live or let go.”

Whether the First Christian Church, Disciples of Christ at the corner of Madison Street and East Lake Avenue will enter its 153rd year depends upon the continued success of Moreno's initiatives: If she accurately takes the pulse of her neighbors and church members while encouraging groups to use the church to their advantage, then her fifth “transitional” church may be her fifth consecutive save.

Church Becomes a Community Gathering Place

Sent three years ago to salvage the church as a worship and community center, Moreno's first priority was to create income. One way churches with declining memberships stay on their economic feet is to rent out their space, so Moreno invited a junior and senior high school to hold classes in the large facility.

Success Academy High School's 18 students and 18 Esperanza Middle School students meet in spacious classrooms from 9 a.m. to 1:30 p.m. five days a week. Mariel Halupa, a 30-year employee with the county office of education, runs the program with gusto.

The schools are a last-chance option for young people who have been in trouble or whom other schools may have given up on. But inside the walls of the pink church, the teachers have a knack for bringing out the best in kids.

“Students don't want to leave when it comes time to graduate,” said Halupa.

The church also makes money renting a refurbished second-story apartment for $950 a month.

In addition, the church shares its space with other worshippers. Of the many congregations looking for a place to hold services, Moreno and her parishioners chose the Rev. Francisco Juarez's , which sounds Roman Catholic but is actually Anglican.

Juarez, his wife, Maria, and members rent the first-floor chapel, because Moreno considered them kindred spirits, “a small congregation that wouldn't just be in the building but also do events with us. Rev. Juarez and I connect on outreach and social mission,” Moreno said.

Open Doors

The challenge for a struggling church could be daunting.

“Less than 5 percent of the entire Bay Area participates in any religious tradition," Moreno said. "There is some aversion to the church as an institution. That's why we have to make sure people feel fed and uplifted, closer to God.”

Volunteers painted the 152 year-old church a few years back. The available color—pink—was one that painters had in excess. The pink has softened to dusky coral with time. The building itself needs sprucing up, but scarce funds go to necessities instead of appearances. The sanctuary is impressive, with a very high, decorated ceiling; solid wooden pews; pulpit and baptismal “tank”; and a pool behind a scalloped screen where full-immersion baptisms are performed.

"We believe that scripture is to be taken seriously but not literally," Moreno said. "Everyone has the right to hear and interpret for themselves. Not only do Disciples offer communion to all comers, we offer it every Sunday.”

The denomination's name is long, so the commonly used term is Disciples or, when acronyms come into play, the FCC/DOC.

“The name is a compromise in an argument between the founding fathers, Alexander Campbell and Barton Stone," Moreno explained. "The First Christian Church was literally the first founded on American soil. The Puritans brought their religion, but the FCC/DOC were born here.” 

Disciples were among the first abolitionists and America's first “liberation theologists.” The denomination split from the Presbyterians over credos and doctrines—of which they wanted none—believing that faith alone is sufficient for salvation. They wanted weekly communion, not a Protestant tradition.

“Our regional Disciples of Christ is open and affirming,” said Moreno, explaining that this is church language that means that LGBT (gay) community is created in the image of God, just as it is, and all are totally welcome at the table. The church bulletin says open and affirming in rainbow colors. Inclusiveness in language and behavior is central to the faith.

Marge Moss, volunteer receptionist and bookkeeper for the church, began attending when she was 6 and has been a faithful member through all the changes, including a schism in the early '80s.

“We don't decide who can eat at Christ's table," said Moss, one of the cooks serving five homemade soups after worship on “Souper Sunday." "No credo but Christ, we say." 

Alas, while a big smorgasbord of music, scripture and Moreno's easy-listening sermons are served up every Sunday, the sanctuary is nearly empty. Moreno, who accompanied the many hymns on guitar and delivered a powerful sermon in the same conversational tone she takes whenever she speaks, is a minister because she was called.

The daughter of an agnostic and an atheist, whose background included poverty, abuse and violence, she was vacuuming one day in 1985 and heard a voice say, “Yolanda, go to Bible college.” It was the same voice that made her put down the switchblade with which she was going to take her own life at age 14.

“I didn't choose this life," Moreno said. "I went kicking and screaming, but I was called.”

The Right School For The Right Ministry

Welcoming the county Office of Education programs into the church has brought new energy to the building.

Moreno laughed when she showed a greeting card the junior high students had given her. The dog on the front says, “You made me so happy . . .” and inside, “I was surprised my tail didn't fly off my butt!”

She said she loves having the students, who are such a special population.

“It would have been easy to rent to a charter school, but we wanted a school that would be the right ministry for the church,” said Moreno.

This is the second year the junior and senior high schools are housed in the church. The education programs are starting to feel at home: Mark Mathews, the independent studies teacher, runs the county sports league and coordinates all the field trips. Dan McGuire teaches junior high students to build, refinish and sail boats, in addition to regular curricula. The desks in his classroom are arranged according to some kind of nautical feng shui.

Students said high school teacher Sarah Prescher, a diminutive woman who could almost be taken for a high school student herself, is “really sweet, funny and nice.” Prescher, who was working at a computer with student Edgar Fuentes, retorted, “Oh, they're just sucking up.”

Next door to the gym is a pottery studio where students create handmade gifts. Students also can use the big, commercial kitchen—which opens off the regulation basketball court—for cooking classes, and every Friday is “feast day,” in which students invite parents, siblings and friends. No one leaves hungry.

The Disciples offer a bi-monthly “Almost Free Spaghetti Dinner:” $2.50 for adults, free to children. About 100 people attend, including single parents with several kids to feed. The next dinner will be 5-7 p.m. March 19.

“We do food really well,” Moreno said.

As community service, church members will make sandwiches on Feb. 26 and distribute about 100 lunches to anyone who is hungry at the Watsonville Plaza.

“People will help you do your ministry, even if they're not official members, when they see the church is active in the community and they feel they can make a difference,” said Moreno.

On the question of increasing church attendance, she said, “I have people praying about it.”

She went on, "When I was working for Control Data and making a lot of money, I helped companies transition from manual to automated accounting. I helped take people into the future. Those skills are great for helping this church catch the vision and go into it, step by step. The spirit in this First Christian Church, Disciples of Christ is great, genuinely open and accepting. If any church should live, it should be this one.”