Church Is Taking a Stand on Faith

In the oil-stained parking lot of an aging Tustin strip mall, the former drive-through photo booth looks like a spiritual mirage in a retail wasteland.

“Free Prayers” reads a sign whose painted arrow directs passersby to the stand. On the side of the booth is a picture of two hands clasped in worship. Another sign advertises “Flowers, Bibles, Bottled Water,” all free.

With neighbors like Jolly Jug Liquor, Super One Cleaners and D&N; restaurant (specializing in Mexican food and hamburgers), the drive-through prayer booth aims to be an oasis for the spiritually thirsty -- those desperate enough to tell a stranger inside a brightly painted green-and-yellow shack the most intimate details of their lives.

“This is like a fast-food place for God,” said Tamiko, a 53-year-old homeless woman from Japan who stopped by the prayer booth for the first time on a recent morning. She asked that her last name not be used. “Places like this you only see in America.”

Actually, there may be only one such place in the United States: on Red Hill Avenue across from the Main Place Christian Fellowship Church. About a month ago, Main Place church leaders decided to convert the former photo booth and ex-flower shop into a 6-by-14-foot prayer center.

The idea is to provide the community with an accessible, nonthreatening alternative to walking inside a church for assistance. The booth is staffed by pastors and volunteers weekdays from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. It’s part of the church’s mission “to bring Jesus Christ to our neighbors in a creative and caring way to all people for free.”

“The majority of people around here are Christians, but they don’t go to church,” said David Cottrill, a pastor at the 550-member church. “So when they have a problem, they don’t have anyone to turn to.”

It’s not the first time an Orange County church has paired suburban lifestyles with religion. The Rev. Robert H. Schuller, senior pastor of the Crystal Cathedral, began his worldwide ministry at the Orange Drive-in theater in Garden Grove in 1955. He conducted services on the roof of the snack bar, as congregants listened on speakers hung from the windows of their cars.

In Tustin, a friend brought Tamiko and her daughter by the prayer booth to pray for a place to live; they had just stayed the maximum number of nights at a nearby homeless shelter.

“Not even two minutes after praying, we got a place to stay for tonight,” said Tamiko, whose friend got through in one phone call to a hard-to-reach shelter. “Jesus always provides for us.”

Pastor Martin Mosier, who said he prayed about Tamiko’s plight, adds a small disclaimer. “I’ve got to say that it doesn’t always happen that fast.”

Quickie prayers, though, are a specialty at the booth, where drivers -- in a hurry or just shy -- can pull up to the drive-through window without leaving their car. Those with more time or troubles are invited to sit with a pastor on chairs outside the shack.

People in greater need are directed across the street to the church, where they get referrals for food, shelter, clothing, medicine, drug- and alcohol-recovery, and counseling.

Those who stop by the prayer booth also are offered free Bibles -- available in English, Spanish and, coming soon, Persian -- in addition to a carnation and bottled water.

“This is the first Bible I’ve read in years,” said Katie McGerty, a 35-year-old homeless woman who was given the book a few weeks ago and now stops by the shack regularly. “It’s like a little slice of heaven here.”

In addition to on-the-spot prayers, the petitioners’ requests are scrawled on green ledger sheets and given to church volunteers who pray over them each morning starting at 5:30 a.m.

Ledger entries in the first few weeks included prayers for relief from depression and the flu; an answer to money and job worries; recovery from drugs; and return of a wayward daughter. Others asked for an amicable ending to a pending divorce and child-custody battle; shelter; a successful job interview; a release from past hurts and anger; and cures for hepatitis C and cancer.

Initial business hasn’t been super-sized -- about a customer per hour. The pastors spend their ample free time studying the Bible in solitude. The booth has a phone, but it’s used only for outgoing calls.

One recent morning, a few cars drove slowly around the booth, their drivers either trying to figure out what it was or whether they should stop.

“We get a lot of circlers,” Cottrill said. “They’ll circle the booth a few times. Some will stop. Others won’t.”

Stella Dodge, 75, stopped by the shopping center to check her blood pressure and buy Easter cards. Intrigued by the prayer booth, the Greek Orthodox woman from Tustin walked over and began talking with Mosier. Before long, their heads were bowed, saying a prayer for her granddaughter who was traveling.

Said Dodge, summing up the thoughts of most passersby: “I’ve never seen anything like this in a parking lot.”