Thursday, June 27, 2002

United in the House of God

The diverse congregation at St. Bartholomew’s Episcopal Church finds common ground in its shared vision of hope.

By Kristin Davis
Points South Staff Writer

MAXIMO/BROADWATER-Patches of sand-colored wood show through the dark heart pine of the floor, keeping no secret of the church’s age. Three giant stained-glass windows rise behind the altar. Lanterns hang from the beams that cross through the open ceiling. It’s easy to imagine the year is 1902, not 2002.

But the glow of the congregation at St. Bartholomew’s Episcopal Church illuminates an era that is anything but long ago.

Sunday mornings have been called the most segregated time of the week in America. But on Sunday mornings at St. Bartholomew’s you will find whites and blacks. Rich and poor. Heterosexuals and homosexuals. Young and old. It doesn’t matter who you are, who you like, or where you come from. They will love you just the same.

A white stone sculpture of Jesus stands out front, his solid arms open and uplifted, as if to receive all who come by. A lighted white sign reads: "Celebrate Freedom. All Welcome," in movable black letters. A standard invitation, but somehow, this one seems different. This church means it. This church proves it.

"God made you how you are, loves you how you are, and we respect you how you are," said the Rev. Harry Parsell, the church’s rector for the last 13 years. He doesn’t know the demographics of the church because it doesn’t matter. He hasn’t kept track of who’s white or who’s black in years. "I refuse to put a barrier in front of anyone."

St. Bartholomew’s sprung to life in 1887 on a secluded patch of land at the corner of Lakeview Avenue and 19^th Street. Its beginnings were humble: an 18-by-40-foot, board-and-batten church built by the hands of 10 charter members. It has been enlarged five times. By 1970, the much bigger structure was taken down board by numbered board and reassembled at the corner of 34^th Street and 38^th Avenue South. The move came after a high-crime neighborhood swelled around the church, causing attendance to dwindle. Today, St. Bartholomew’s is a mix of the old and new, the original structure tucked inside its new additions. Giant, leafy trees shade parts of the church; younger trees grow on the front lawn.

But the church is in a time of membership decline and, because of that, reorganization. There are more elderly members than young, and the ministry runs the risk of growing too small to support itself. So the Rev. Parsell has suggested ways for the two to reach out to one another, and the church is rebuilding its nursery.

For much of its history, St. Bartholomew’s embodied a homogeneous congregation. But not anymore. Today, members are as different as the century-old wood and the new hardy-board siding.

Tom Anderson, 74, has attended St. Bartholomew’s since 1998. When he came to St. Petersburg, Anderson looked for a place that would accept him as he was--a gay man with a partner. Anderson didn’t have to look far. He sings in the choir, organizes communion for shut-ins and leads Bible studies.

Born in Texas, Anderson has lived in California and Virginia. Anytime he moves to a new place, he checks out the nearest churches. Located right across the street from his home, St. Bartholomew’s was an easy choice. The worship, the music, the leadership--Anderson loves it all.

Richard Sumner, 17, has attended St. Bartholomew’s all his life. He sings in the youth choir, ushers and leads the liturgy. He likes that there are young members and old members. They can talk together, and the young can reach out to the old.

Waveney Ann Moore, from Guyana, came to St. Bartholomew’s three years ago when she needed a change in churches. Wanting to remain within the Anglican Church, she, too, found a home here. "Father Harry [Parsell] is very open to all kinds of people," she said. While his sermons are traditional and somewhat conservative, his outlook on people is not.

"We believe we are all searching for the same hope. We’re not perfect but we sure are striving to be the best church home for any living person," said the Rev. Parsell.

Sunday, a Methodist woman from a church down the street visits St. Bartholomew’s. She stands in front of an old, wooden pew and introduces herself. She tells them she’s driven past the church many times. The smiling, laughing people appealed to her, so she decided to come. The congregation claps. She is welcome.