Church Split by Death of Leader : Religion: The congregation led by gospel singer James Cleveland has been beset by infighting since his passing. Key disputes are over new pastor and whether to sell the church building.

It has been four months since famed gospel singer and pastor James Cleveland died, leaving the members of his Cornerstone Institutional Baptist Church to hold his organization together.

But some of them now say it is going to take a miracle to prevent infighting from destroying the well-known church, as members battle over money Cleveland left in trust and whether the building at the corner of Slauson and Western avenues should be sold.

Entangled in these issues is who should replace Cleveland as pastor of the congregation. One side wants to block the sale of the building, keep the church name and make interim pastor Eugene Bryant the permanent head of the church. The other group, which says it is following the wishes of Cleveland, believes the building should be sold and the congregation reestablished in a smaller, more affordable building. Most in this faction do not want Bryant to lead the church.

Both sides have hired lawyers, and if differences can’t be settled, members say they may end up in court. As the battle has unfolded, attendance has dwindled. During Cleveland’s heyday--when he was making music with Aretha Franklin, earning a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame and accumulating Grammys and gold records--membership was said to have swelled to more than 2,000. But at a Father’s Day program a few weeks ago, fewer than 200 people showed up.

The drop in attendance has further strained the already precarious finances of the church, creating difficulties even in meeting the $6,000 monthly mortgage payments.

“This fighting hurts and is sad,” said 20-year member Curly Harris, one of many longtime members who has stayed away since Cleveland’s death. “I’m spending a lot of sleepless nights over this.”

Many churches have similar identity crises after a popular leader dies, said Sam Gray, a member of the church governing board. But this fight has been particularly bitter, he added.

“When a congregation loses its shepherd, it is vulnerable to all sorts of influences,” he said.

Cleveland grew up in South Chicago, where he gave singer Franklin her first music lessons. Later, he moved to California and founded Cornerstone in a small storefront on Washington Boulevard. He sang at the White House for President Jimmy Carter, and produced Franklin’s landmark gospel album “Amazing Grace.”

As his career as a singer, composer and producer skyrocketed, he became mentor to countless other singers. He founded the Gospel Music Workshop of America, which now has more than 20,000 members and 200 chapters, and was instrumental in promoting the Southern California Community Choir, which has won several Grammys.

When his health began to fail in early 1990, Cleveland discussed plans for a trust fund that would benefit both his church and his music interests, said Donald Garner of Santa Monica, attorney for Cleveland’s estate. In late January of this year, Cleveland, accompanied by his financial manager Annette Thomas, asked Garner to draw up the trust.

He instructed that most of his properties--including Cornerstone church--be sold. Out of the proceeds, $500,000 would be given to the church to purchase a more economical building, Garner said. Relatives and friends would receive smaller bequests, and the bulk of the estate would be kept for charitable purposes, including music and church-related projects.

Cornerstone and the Music Workshop of America were named specifically for consideration. Cleveland named Thomas as trustee with power to disburse funds, and indicated in a letter that Bryant should be interim pastor until the congregation could vote on someone for the post next year.

Several days after the meeting with his attorney, Cleveland became gravely ill and slipped into a coma. Thomas, who had Cleveland’s power of attorney, signed the trust documents for him before he died, Garner said.

When terms of the trust were announced after Cleveland’s death, “the congregation reacted with shock,” Gray said.

Some longtime church officers, including Thomas, wanted to sell the building, as Cleveland wished. But others, aligned with interim pastor Bryant, questioned the legal arrangements, believing members had donated enough money over the years to have legal equity in the facility.

“We like Cornerstone like it is,” said Carl Cade, an 11-year member who supports Bryant for permanent pastor.

Garner said that Cleveland had “agonized” over the decision to sell Cornerstone, but decided to go ahead because he knew his congregation--which is not a wealthy one--could not keep up the mortgage or other bills. Cleveland provided the cash and credit to buy the church and had all along provided substantial money to keep the church afloat, Garner said. The building has second and third mortgages on it.

“Cleveland contributed up to 40% or more of the costs,” said Thomas, who was a financial officer in the church and now administers the trust. “But he wasn’t one to brag about what he was doing for the congregation.”

Dissension occurred because people did not realize that the congregation was not self-sufficient, Gray said. “They thought they were getting a bad deal, that someone was taking something that was rightfully theirs.” Those members have aligned themselves behind interim pastor Bryant.

Garner said that he has no idea how much Cleveland’s trust is actually worth, noting that it will be funded mainly by the sale of various properties owned by Cleveland, including his house and the Cornerstone building, now on the market for $4.5 million.

Some of the most bitter fighting has revolved around Bryant, who some believe is trying to gain control of the church. They accuse him of having held a recent important church business meeting on a holiday weekend, when a majority of members could not attend or did not know about it. Fewer than 100 members attended and created a new governing board which would be above the trustees, who had previously made church administrative decisions. The new board was made up of Bryant supporters, Gray said.

Bryant, who like Thomas had been one of Cleveland’s assistants since the church’s founding, is to be pastor until the full congregation votes on a leader next year. Some members want to shop around for a new minister, however. They are planning a weekly morning service before the regularly scheduled meeting to which they will invite outside ministers to speak on a tryout basis, Gray said.

“I’m afraid that what we will eventually have is two churches,” Gray said.

If that happens, there will probably be a court fight over who retains the Cornerstone name, said Santa Monica attorney Steve Lowe, who represents a group that supports Bryant’s pastorship. “My clients hired me to help them protect the church identity, but that doesn’t mean the church property itself. They hired me to investigate the way the church has been run, how to best retain Cornerstone.”

Bryant, meanwhile, would say little about the controversy, except that he is trying to hold the congregation together, and that keeping the building is not foremost on the agenda.

“We are crying out to the Lord to find a way for us to keep the church property, but we realize that it is only a building,” Bryant said. “More important, we want to make sure that the spiritual foundation that Rev. Cleveland built is continued.”

In recent weeks many members have begun seeing the wisdom of selling the large church, Lowe said. But who will retain the Cornerstone name if there is a split over leadership is still in question.

Meanwhile, attendance at church services continues to dwindle while financial problems grow. On a recent Sunday, church officials asked for extra money to help pay an outstanding $9,000 water and electric bill, cautioning churchgoers not to leave the sanctuary while the offering was being taken up.

Chris Keith, a member of the congregation for 20 years, voiced sentiments repeated by many members: “I’ve been staying home a lot watching preachers on television. . . . Until something changes, until there is some understanding between everyone, I just don’t want to be there.”