Celebrating 150 Years of Ministry for Christ 1849-1999
Published Saturday, October 23, 1999, in the San Jose Mercury News

S.J. church looks fondly at 150 years, eagerly to its future

BY JOSHUA L. KWAN
Mercury News Staff Writer

ON A RECENT sunny Sunday, Pastor Larry Burroughs of San Jose's First Presbyterian Church enticed a dozen of his flock to tour downtown construction sites with promises of Togo's sandwiches. Down Fourth Street and across Santa Clara Street, the group stretched the length of a city block in a modest imitation of Joshua's walk of prayer around the walls of Jericho.

But this was not a mission to tumble down walls. Rather, Burroughs was introducing his present church to its future.

The curious mix of generations -- boisterous teenagers chatting up front, a couple of seniors trying to keep pace in the back -- trekked past the planned location of City Hall and snaked across the rising condominiums of Paseo Villa.

“This is God's vision for our church,” Burroughs said, pointing to the wooden skeleton of an apartment complex on San Fernando and Fourth. “The young urban families moving into these units, the thousands of civic servants who will work in City Hall, these folks are the future.”

Before the future arrives, the church has some celebrating to do. Tonight, the congregation will throw itself a 150th birthday party. Members will pore over historical pictures, listen to a 94-year-old woman read her poems and hear four others in their 90s reminisce about the 300 years of church attendance among them.

Organizers hope it will be a joyous night filled with the warmth of fond recollections. “The celebration is meant to honor the memories of ministers and lay people who have faithfully worked in the church and in the city,” Burroughs said.

But he will gently, insistently prod his flock forward. Burroughs plans to close the evening by detailing his vision for the future: an emerging church whose fortunes are rising with the newly booming downtown area.

“This is a pivotal moment for our church,” Burroughs said. “Thirty years ago, with a declining congregation and people fleeing to the suburbs, the leaders of this church could have pulled the plug and moved out to the suburbs or disbanded entirely. But they had the courage to stay and change their focus. This celebration honors both their faith and God's faith to us over the years.”

When Burroughs first arrived in 1991 from a church in Cupertino, the congregation of 60 consisted mostly of aging retirees. Many walked downstairs from the 10-story low-rent complex for seniors next door. No Sunday school for youngsters, no child care during the sermon.

“The church was stagnant,” said Burroughs. “Its bedrock was senior citizens, and they kept passing away. A church can't grow very much by focusing on senior citizens.”

Suburban flight wasn't the first challenge the church has faced. The 1906 earthquake had rocked its brick building to rubble, yet the church regrouped and rebuilt. Numerous times, the congregation -- which had more than 1,000 members in the late 1930s -- had split over the years.

But urban decay in the 1960s forced the church to make a tough decision. The congregation dwindled. Young families left. The grand, once-stately edifice on Third Street was in desperate disrepair. The church couldn't afford maintenance, much less renovation. The choice: Flee the city or fight the problems.

The church leadership voted to stay. The members demolished their building and used money from the Department of Housing and Urban Development to construct Town Park Towers, a 216-unit apartment for low-income seniors. B

ehind the new high-rise and facing Fourth Street, a humble building was dedicated in 1972. A scaled-down First Presbyterian would shift its attention to the elderly and the growing population of homeless.

A year later, the church rallied nine other city charities and congregations to serve the homeless of San Jose. That non-profit agency, now called InnVision, has grown into a $4 million operation assisting more than 8,000 clients a year with meals, child care, job training and emergency shelter. First Presbyterian's impact on InnVision remains strong; the executive director is Christine Burroughs, the pastor's wife, and several other leaders are committed members of the church.

“We try to be a safety net for poor people,” the pastor said. “Every day we have homeless people come through our doors.”

It became so routine for strangers in need to stumble onto the church's doorstep that Burroughs set aside $200 a month to handle the most worthy and dire requests. Some ask for a place to stay; others want a bus fare; others still seek money for an addiction.

A barrier

As welcoming as the church tried to be, Burroughs threw up a barrier. Drug addicts and vandals would no longer be allowed to stay on church property. One of his first acts as pastor was to reclaim an alleyway behind the building that was often littered with garbage, graffiti and discarded needles. A prayer garden with wooden benches replaced one section; a basketball hoop and tetherball pole displaced another. Burroughs enclosed this cramped, converted playground with a wrought-iron fence.

The congregation is more ethnically diverse than in decades past. The age range at First Presbyterian also is wider now than it has been since families left in the '60s.

To be sure, on any given Sunday there may be more gray hairs in the sanctuary than all other colors combined. The once-solemn service now begins with a gathering of 10 or so squealing children who fidget throughout the three-minute kid-friendly message.

“Our church would have died off if it weren't for Pastor Larry,” said Belle Denea, the church's resident poet and oldest member. “We needed young people to fill these pews, and that's what he did.”

Manuela Gonzalez, 14, speaks with a maturity and appreciation of having spent time with her elders. At first, Manuela said, it was a bit awkward to attend a church so predominantly old and white.

“But I love it here,” the Independence High School sophomore said. “It's just like having another grandma. You can help them out, hold their hand, ask them to pray for you. You don't really see that with teenagers right now. Some kids think, `Eeew, they're old.' I think they've been here longer than us, so we should respect them.”

The challenge for Burroughs is to shift gears once again and guide the church in attracting the young professionals who will occupy new apartments downtown -- without neglecting his core constituency, the elderly and the poor.

Whenever he speaks of downtown development, Burroughs can't help repeating over and over again the proximity of various construction projects. That after years of dormancy, downtown is rising again. That City Hall will move a block south of his church, that the new symphony hall will be just across the street, that people are now filtering back to downtown.

The turn of events has driven Burroughs into a flurry of ideas. One umbrella program is called Acts of Kindness, or AOK. Old and young, working side by side, provided the muscle to assemble kits of school supplies this fall for kindergartners at Horace Mann School. On Friday, Burroughs will deliver 300 key-chain flashlights with Halloween safety tips to the school's students. There is no overt evangelical pitch, he said, just a chance to fulfill needs in the community.

Building bridges

In the coming months, Burroughs hopes to host a noontime prayer for city employees, a time-management course for young professionals and free coffee and drinks for concertgoers. “Our challenge now is to build bridges to this new community,” he said.

Burroughs is careful to note that the booming city center isn't so much vindication of the church's decision to stay or a heavenly reward for toiling through the darkest times.

“God has blessed this church through the years, and he's remained faithful,” he said. “Along the way, we ask, `What are we supposed to be doing here, God?' and for years the answer was working with seniors and the poor. Today, I think God's answer is changing.”