A Test of Faith : Provocative Minister, Conservative Congregation Are Learning Tolerance

The minister has something on his mind and warns his congregation that some aren’t going to like it. And for those who would agree with him, hold the “amens” and applause--no need to alienate those who might give him the benefit of the doubt.

With those words, the Rev. Julius E. Del Pino leans across his pulpit, looks straight into the eyes of the mostly conservative parishioners at Shepherd of the Hills United Methodist Church, and launches into his sermon:

Don’t be so thoroughly charmed by Speaker of the House Newt Gingrich’s “contract with America” that you would forget the poor and their children, the ones who would suffer the most from the so-called Republican revolution. Don’t be so settled in your middle-class comfort in South County that you would ignore injustices and inequities around you. And for heaven’s sake, don’t accept the stereotypes of immigrants and people of color.

“If we don’t change directions,” the reverend intones, his every word a carefully aimed dart at the conscience of those faces so inscrutable, “we will soon turn America into two nations: one poor and one rich; one white and one of color. We will have lost our soul.”

The provocative sermon last month was part of a weeklong celebration of Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday sponsored by the church, but it could very well have been Del Pino’s preaching on many a Sunday here, where the congregation is more than 90% white. It has been this way since 1993 when Del Pino, an African American, was appointed Shepherd of the Hills’ senior pastor by the United Methodist Church.

He is the only African American pastor in the United Methodist Church’s Santa Ana district, which covers Orange County and parts of Los Angeles County.

In the three years since he came to Shepherd of the Hills, replacing a beloved white pastor who retired after leading the church for 14 years, Del Pino, 48, has been using the Gospel to lash out against social injustices and encourage understanding of diversity.

Such sermons in the house of the Lord are not uncommon, but when it’s a black preacher telling predominantly white congregants to look deep into their souls, well, said the minister, “some people will squirm.”

Not all his preaching is related to social issues; many deal with direct readings of the Scriptures.

“Because of that, there are more people readily accepting of his more controversial sermons,” said his wife and associate pastor, Demphna Krikorian.

Still, some congregants have registered their displeasure in a dramatic way: They left the church altogether.

When Del Pino arrived in 1993, Shepherd of the Hills had 1,016 active members. Toward the end of last year, it had 925.

Not all left the church because of him, Del Pino said. But many of those who did, he said, explicitly said they did not like his sermons and were uncomfortable with an African American preacher.

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“There has been quite a bit of transition at the church since Julius came,” said Charles Earnhart, who chairs an administrative committee of congregants that handles personnel issues. “It is as much because of the theological differences as changes [that came with a new pastor].”

The church and its staff are generally supportive of Del Pino and the changes he brought about, Earnhart said. As for the families who left the church, Earnhart said, the number is relatively few over three years and “I think we’ve gotten past that.”

The pastor is confident that the numbers will increase this year.

“After my first few sermons, some of the staff told me some people weren’t pleased with what I had to say and that they were not coming back,” said Del Pino, adding that most of the drop-off in membership occurred within his first year. “My response to them was, ‘Let them leave, because as they go, others will come.’ ”

From Day One, he was determined to be true to the word of the Gospel as he sees it. He knew, he said, that his being an African American in a county where African Americans make up a scant 2% of the population, along with his interpretation of the Scriptures and social action doctrine, might not be--to put it mildly--received with open arms here in the most conservative area of the county.

It is not just from behind the lectern that the reverend sermonizes his message of social tolerance. Under his pastorship, Shepherd of the Hills has hosted meetings on affirmative action, fund-raisers for the poor and homeless and the first Martin Luther King Jr. Day celebration in South County.

Del Pino has been a pastor at predominantly white churches before--his last, a seven-year stint in Pacific Palisades--before going to the Yale University Divinity School to teach for two years. But because he wanted to preach again, the church assigned him to Shepherd of the Hills. It has taken him time to adjust, he said, from the liberal East Coast community to Orange County.

Del Pino said he has never seen a congregation so reluctant to engage in dialogue about social issues. The “ultra-conservatism” of South County, he said, threw him for a loop.

“I was completely unaware of the right-wing politics and the Christian Coalition--how strong that is here,” Del Pino said one afternoon, folding his tall frame into a guest chair in his warmly lighted office. Here in his personal sanctuary, spiritual passages and family photos are tacked to a corkboard, and tomes on such wide-ranging subjects as the law, religion, Eastern philosophy, sociology, psychology and the oppression of African Americans jostle for space on the shelves.

“What really shocked me was that the myths and the lies of the oppressed are still being upheld and valued here,” Del Pino said, acknowledging that his candor would likely bring new criticism. “I’m dealing with the reality of it in my own way, but it has taken me some time to accept it.”

It took his congregation a little longer to accept him.

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Del Pino said that in the beginning, some parishioners were not comfortable with his fluid cadence and rhythmic swaying--the signatures of a black preacher’s style. “They wanted me to stand still. I heard their concerns and continued to be who I am,” Del Pino said.

In one tempestuous preaching two years ago, he lambasted clerics who he said have used the Gospel as ammunition against homosexual rights and women’s rights to abortion. He received so many hate calls afterward that he had to get an unlisted home phone number.

But Del Pino remains undaunted.

His becoming a minister wasn’t so much a higher calling than it was following in the footsteps of his father who, Del Pino said, was a pastor at the only African American Methodist congregation in Minnesota.

Del Pino grew up in a black neighborhood in St. Paul, and he smiled a sad smile when he recalled his years at an integrated elementary school.

In one class, white students sat on one side of the room while African American students sat on the other because, they were told, they were not quite as smart. Such experiences are reasons why his sermons dwell so much on social issues, the minister said.

The sermons, he said, also are meant to attract a diverse congregation.

But some in the African American community have been just as wary of him as whites, he said. There have been more African Americans visiting the church, but on the whole, the number of black congregants has not risen noticeably since Del Pino has been pastor.

A few African Americans view him with contempt because he is married to a woman of Armenian descent, Del Pino said. And others, he said, resent his success in a world in which many African Americans still feel isolated.

“Some see me as someone who has capitalized on a system, who has taken advantage of a system that has kept many African Americans down,” he said.

Joyce Jordan, a publisher of the Black Orange, a magazine covering Orange County African Americans, said that Del Pino is performing “a tough balancing act.”

“It can’t be easy for Dr. Del Pino,” Jordan said, “but I think he’s taking more heat from the white community for preaching what he does, especially here in Mission Viejo.”

One parishioner--as much as she likes the reverend and has had him over for dinner--continues to wrestle with some of Del Pino’s preaching.

“He’s an intelligent man and gives great sermons, but their substance--and I call it as I see it--some of it I like and some I personally don’t,” said the 79-year-old Lake Forest resident, who has been a member of the church for 16 years. The woman asked not to be identified because “I’m with the older set and some of us older people have a problem with some of the things the reverend preaches.”

Indeed, following the sermon critical of the “contract with America,” one congregant told a friend outside the church he thought Del Pino’s “preaching of race matters was inappropriate.”

But for Del Pino, church is exactly the right ground for such discussions, and he vows to press on.

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But he also said he knows he can take his polemics only so far in South County.

“I know who I am here. I know what the limitations are,” he said. “There are boundaries here, but you respect those if you want people to listen to you.”

It took him a while, but Del Pino believes the congregants “have come to see that I’m not their enemy, that I, in fact, care about their souls, their family, as I gently lead them in lives of hope and justice.”

The reverend emphasized “justice.”

(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX / INFOGRAPHIC)

Profile of a Pastor

The Rev. Julius E. Del Pino

Age: 48

Position: Senior pastor, Shepherd of the Hills United Methodist Church

Ordained: 1972

Began at Shepherd: 1993

Family: Wife, Demphna Krikorian (associate pastor of the church); three children

Residence: Mission Viejo

Background: Taught at Yale University Divinity School before coming to Orange County

Belief: “I’ve always been heavily into social justice and social theology. I could not justify my living in South County and preaching to a white congregation without preaching the Gospel as I believe it should be preached.”

Source: The Rev. Julius Del Pino; Researched by LILY DIZON / Los Angeles Times