Parishioners Sing Despite Fire

One day after an arson fire destroyed their sanctuary, the parishioners of St. Thomas the Apostle Catholic Church were singing.

About 1,000 church members crowded onto the stained asphalt of the Koreatown church’s parking lot for early morning Mass on Sunday. The acrid smell of smoke still hung in the air, mixing with the sweet scent of honeysuckle flowers growing on a nearby fence, as the worshipers lifted their voices.

“Live with happiness,” they sang in Spanish. “Vive con alegria.”

Early Saturday morning, many had been roused out of bed by an urgent phone call and rushed to the Pico Boulevard church to find flames shooting out of the roof.

The fierce blaze swept quickly through the Mission-style building--one of the oldest Catholic churches in Los Angeles--incinerating the wooden-beam ceiling, blackening the white walls and melting light fixtures. Fire Department officials said the fire, which caused at least $1.2 million in damage, was set intentionally. A multi-agency task force is investigating the cause.

The fire was the most destructive case of arson to strike a Los Angeles-area Catholic church, church officials said, and repairs to the 1904 building will take at least a year.

But this community of mostly Central American immigrants was not deterred by the destruction. With their burnt-out church swathed in yellow tape that read “Fire Line Do Not Cross,” the parishioners spoke of determination and unity and faith. They gathered under a dirty red and white tent hastily erected in the parking lot and prayed, just as they do every Sunday. Some wiped away tears.

“We all have so much sadness,” said Manuela Marroquin, 40, who comes from Venice to attend services at St. Thomas. “This is the church so many of us were born into.” Marroquin was one of hundreds who arrived Saturday morning, just after the fire was put out, to help clean up. That evening, with ashes still clinging to their clothes, they held an emotional Mass outside.

“There’s a lot of unity,” she said. “We will come out of this even stronger.”

Cardinal Roger Mahony, head of the Archdiocese of Los Angeles, canceled a trip out of town to conduct the Sunday morning Masses in the church parking lot.

“The Catholic Church is here,” Mahony said in Spanish, pointing to the somber crowd seated on folding chairs, “not there,” gesturing to the church. “The building is important, but it is not essential. We will move forward.”

About 8,000 people usually attend weekend Mass at St. Thomas, which offers 10 weekend services, and the biggest challenge facing the church so far was finding space to fit everybody.

Now, officials are trying to maintain the normal worship schedule. Confessions have been moved to the church office. Weekday Masses will be held in a nearby school; Sunday Masses in the parking lot. The pastor is still looking for a place to hold weddings and other celebrations, although the archbishop from a nearby Greek Orthodox church offered the use of his building.

“We know it is sad to lose the church,” said the Rev. Jay Cunnane, St. Thomas’ pastor. “But God lives in the people. I see the presence of God here, the presence of unity, of grace, of faith. Don’t you?”

“Si!” responded the worshipers.

“And out here, you have the choice of sun or shade,” he joked.

After the 8 a.m. service, Mahony and Cunnane carefully walked through the blackened church. Sunlight streamed in through holes in the burnt roof, illuminating the smoke-stained walls and charred crucifix at the front of the sanctuary. The red carpet was soggy with water and soot, and ashes coated the pews.

“I feel badly for whoever did this, that they see somehow that harming God’s house helps them,” Mahony said. “But this is a very dynamic parish with a deep faith. . . . Their faith is so strong it will overcome this.”

St. Thomas is a popular place of worship for Central American immigrants, many who fled civil war and strife in El Salvador and Guatemala, Cunnane said.

“These are people who are used to overcoming obstacles,” he said. “There is a determination to pick up and carry on, and it really lifts the heart.”

Church worker Biurton Mazaregos, 18, gazed at the charred ceiling, bemoaning the loss of the sound system he just spent four days installing.

“But this isn’t just happening to one person,” said Mazaregos, who credits the church with keeping him out of gangs when he emigrated from Guatemala four years ago. “It’s happening to all of us. This is bringing everyone from different countries together. People are sad, but they’re not going to stop us from having Mass.”