One Sunday only three of them had come. There was no pastor preaching. There was no gospel music playing, no choir singing. Nobody stood up clapping hands or playing the tambourine. They just sat on their worn, pink plush seats in empty rows, reading the yellowed bible-study books. Because it was cold in the prayer hall, they wore their overcoats. Robert Scott, who used to dress up in fancy clothes for the Mass, wore a casual, woolen sweater. He looked tired. In his voice lay resignation.
For over half a century the New Mount Zion Pentecostal Holiness Church of America has been an integral part of the East Tremont section of The Bronx. Like a ship it plunged through the swirls and waves of life. For fifty years it carried its congregation safely through the hardships of a troubled neighborhood. It passed through the fires of the Sixties and Seventies. It navigated through unemployment, poverty, street gangs and crime. But now, it seems, God had finally withdrawn his blessing and abandoned the faithful. Mount Zion was never rich, but now it had slipped into serious financial trouble; the old members of the congregation faded away; new members were not in sight. Is this how churches die?
Read more of my Columbia Master’s Project: bernold_until the last prayer.doc
Thanks to Todd Gitlin, my professor, and Hans Gruber, my uncle, who did the copy editing!
