"Religion is the sigh of the oppressed
creature, the heart of a heartless world,
just as it is the spirit of an unspiritual
situation."
--Karl Marx
When I first began looking for ideas about which to base my project around, I spent a good deal of time walking up and down Sunset Boulevard and the adjacent streets of Echo Park, hoping to see something that would jump out at me, or would grab my attention. I wanted to write about something that I felt really mattered to the life of this small community, while at the same time looking into issues that perhaps had not been explored very deeply by others before me. Initially, I was drawn to the grand old buildings that line Sunset Boulevard and the surrounding street and avenues in this neighborhood. Many date back to the beginning of this century, and at one time were quite beautiful to look upon. Now, most of them are vague shadows of what they once were, neglected and in need of repair.
Architecture, however, is something I know very little about, and while it may offer some insight into the community creating and occupying it, I felt that exploration of this type would be better left to another. I turned my attention then, away from concrete and wood, and toward a more obvious aspect of the community, and the very life of the community itself, the people.
Every Sunday afternoon, both Echo park and nearby Elysian
park are filled with families celebrating birthdays, or other
special occasions, or just enjoying each other's company along
with some great carne asada or other barbecue favorites. In
fact, every weekend all over the city of Los Angeles the city
parks are a meeting place, a place where people come together to
share each other's company and to strengthen the sense of
community. I decided to spend some time in the parks, just
sitting and watching the interaction between the different people
that came here, looking for something noticeable around which to
base this project. I was immediately struck by the observation
that the people coming to the parks were almost entirely
Hispanic. Now to some, this would seem immediately obvious,
since Echo Park is considered an Hispanic neighborhood. The
latest census information, though, shows that while roughly sixty
percent of the residents of Echo park are of Hispanic heritage,
some thirteen percent are Asian, and twenty seven percent
Anglo. It wasn't so much the overwhelming number of Hispanics
that caught my attention, instead, it was the almost complete
absence of peoples of other cultures. When I asked a friend of
mine why he thought this was, he offered a very logical
explanation.
"The parks are so popular to the Hispanics
because they don't have the means to go
anywhere else. They are mostly poor people.
Many of them don't have cars. While the
whites and the Asians are better off
financially, and more of them have cars to
drive, they can go out to the beach , or to
the mountains, or wherever they want."
This may very well be the practical explanation, but I believe that there are root causes that lie much deeper within the fabric of Los Angeles that help to separate the different ethnic groups of people that live here.
Los Angeles is a city of contradictions. It is a city that at its inception, depended on immigrants for continued growth and life, but which now resists newcomers who are uneducated and unskilled, viewing them as probable burdens to the economy. Legislation like the recent Proposition 187 verifies this. Los Angeles is a city that is seen by many sociologists as the "great experiment" for cultural, racial, and ethnic coexistence. However, it does not seem apparent that this is coming to pass. The hoped for homogeneous blend of people in L.A. now more than ever closely resembles a "mixed salad" more than any melting pot. In his book "City of Quartz", Mike Davis offers that here in Los Angeles, "social polarization has increased almost as rapidly as population." Recent history seems to prove this assertion. In the past thirty years, as more and more immigrants have moved into Echo park and the other areas surrounding Los Angeles, the existing white residents who have been able to, have packed up their families and moved away. As one man I interviewed said, "The only people that stay here are stuck here."
This large scale exodus, over time, has completely changed the complexion of many communities here in the city, including specifically, Echo park. One antique store owner, who has maintained a business on Sunset Boulevard for twenty seven years told me that when he first opened, his customers were all white residents of Echo park. Now only twenty seven years later, those customers have completely disappeared. He now relies on antique hounds that drive in from Beverly Hills and the valley to keep his business going.
To many, this polarization of people, perceived by some as the marginalization by the dominant "white wall" Anglo community of different immigrant groups, and the perceived unwillingness of these immigrants to assimilate into this society seems dangerous. To others, however, it seems necessary. Hispanic author Rodolfo Acuna believes that "In the case of an ethnic minority, unity helps those less able to fend for themselves. Identification with the dominant society invariably benefits those best able to compete, and not the less fortunate." Whether it is born out of a need to survive like Mr. Acuna asserts, or has its roots in fear like the recent Proposition 187 reflects, the reality is that in Los Angeles, the dominant culture, the white culture, continues to marginalize people of other cultures who have moved here to begin new lives.
Enter religion. According to author Peter Rowley, Los Angeles is home to believers in over 100 religions. I will explore some of the reasons that Los Angeles is home to such diverse expressions of faith a little later on. My focus, however, will be why Echo Park, a majority Hispanic, and subsequently traditionally catholic community has become home to so many of these "new religions."
It is my assertion that while there may be a variety of factors that have contributed to this rise, the overriding factor is that "traditional religion", in this case specifically the Catholic church, has helped to marginalize the very people it is designed to serve. And while I do not believe this has happened intentionally, the rift between the Catholic church and some of its' Hispanic faithful is as responsible for marginalizing minorities as any gated community or anti-immigrant legislation, such as the 1987 Governor Deukmejian vetoed extension of the native-language instruction requirement of the state's education code.
"Man is an irreducibly social animal. His
religion, whatever its content, invariably inspires him
to look for other like-minded or like-spirited beings
with whom to celebrate his hopes and enact his
rituals."
--Harvey Cox
Originally I had planned on using the blanket term "traditional religion" to refer to those religions having roots in christianity and who trace their histories back to and before Martin Luther's break from the Catholic church. However, instead of this, I have opted to simply use Catholicism as my point of reference for the simple fact that the Hispanic community here in Echo park almost exclusively shares a Catholic background, with any Protestant roots being minimal to nonexistent. The terms "new religions" or "popular religion" need a bit more explanation.
I will use the term "new religion" to refer to any religion begun in this country within the last century, to include Scientology, Pentecostalism, and Church of the Four Square Gospel to name a few. I will refer to any religion other than Catholicism, or the earliest denominational Protestant shootoffs,( Lutheranism, Methodists, and Baptists), as "popular religions" meaning that while they have shown large rates of growth in recent years, most do not have sufficient history to be considered permanent fixtures in the religious community. Eastern religions are included in this group because, although some of them predate Christianity in their existence, they have only been a part of the American scene for just over 100 years. Also included in this classification are the afore mentioned "new" religions, those groups considered cults, such as the Hare Krishna, the Unification Church, and I Ching to name a few, as well as the many nondenominational churches that have sprung up recently; the Los Angeles Church of Christ (fastest growing Protestant church in the nation) and in Echo Park specifically, the many small storefront churches. To better understand why these " popular religions" have become so present in Echo Park, it may be necessary to understand why Los Angeles as a city seems to be such a welcome home to these fledgling faiths.
It seems that since the turn of the century, L.A. has been a
main thoroughfare for the traffic of strange gods in America.
There seem to be as many explanations for why this is as there
are religions. Some would attribute it to simple geography. As
Robert Ellwood writes,
"...as the last...of the major
areas in the United States to
receive massive internal
immigration, Southern California
suggested to many Americans a
chance to start a new lifestyle
complete with new spiritual
moorings."
Or as John Gunther wrote, "The hills around Ventura, let us say, are the last stop; California is stuck with so many crackpots if only because they can't go any farther." On a more sociological level, there are deeper, and sometimes, more cynical explanations. There is the idea that in this age of advanced media and technology, people are more aware of their options than ever before, and are simply exercising their desire to explore what works for them. There is also the idea that people are turning towards a more inner, personal search for life's meaning out of an increasing sense of helplessness in the face of big government, big business, and bigger everyday obstacles. Individualism is a word that has been popping up more and more in discussions concerning religion recently. It seems that people are not only exploring the many options available to them, but are walking away from the "traditional religion" of their childhoods. Peter Rowley expresses the frustration of many when he writes, "The old religions are unsatisfying to many-- meaningless ritual, adherence to outmoded rules, hypocritical clergy." Also, with the rise of capitalism, and the increased focus on the "individual" rights of a person, more energy is given over to 'window shopping' for a religion that "speaks to me" or that "meets my needs". Dan Ellis, the pastor of Golden West Christian Church in Echo Park told me that "Today we are making ourselves the center of religion. What I need, what fulfills my needs. Traditional religion has God at its center." So people search. Not just for the abstract expression of faith that suits their lifestyle, but for the concrete faith community with which they share the most in common. One Sunday, the front page of the L.A. Times ran two stories next to each other about this need for community. One was about the many young people that are searching out new churches such as the Los Angeles Church of Christ, and others, because they want to find others that share their same values and beliefs, or as one young person interviewed said, "I need a structure. I need to be able to meet with people who think like I do." The other article, right beside this one, outlined the menace that the 18th Street Gang, one of the largest gangs in America, poses to the communities it infests. I was struck by the underlying similarities I sensed between the two seemingly diametrically opposed groups. Underneath their obviously different doctrines or constitutions, exists the same need. For the gang bangers it is to feel like they belong, to find a place where they can feel accepted. For the young people seeking out a new religion the ultimate goal is the same. It reminded me then of a young Marine I was speaking with one afternoon while spending some time by the lake in Echo Park. He said this about going through Marine boot camp: "Although you're you, you can belong to something. You can give everything to something. This is what appealed to me. It was good to find so many people in exactly the same position."
It is this aspect of searching more than anything else I believe, that makes Los Angeles the final destination for so many sojourners. After all, it seems everyone here is looking for something. The intellectuals come searching for the cornucopia of new and different ideas they believe exists here. The dreamers come searching for the streaking comet they hope to ride to fame and fortune. Others come in search of nothing more than anonymity and escape from painful or abusive home environments. Still others come for something as simple as the weather. Almost as dependable and consistent as the rising and setting of the sun, the warm, cloudless skies over Los Angeles offer an inviting change from the snowy, blustery winters of cities further north and east of here. However, there are others that come. For reasons more important than suntans or stardom. They come looking for freedom from dictators, they come from countries where police squads break down doors in the middle of the night and haul off family members, never to be seen again. They come from countries so corrupt and poor that it is impossible to find enough work or make enough money to support their families. Many of them leave entire families behind. Alicia Cubias, a friend of mine, left her mother, her two daughters, and a brother behind in El Salvador fifteen years ago to come here and try to make enough of a living so that she could send for the rest of her family, getting them out of what was then a "terrifying place" run by the corrupt junta. Finally, two years ago, after a thirteen year struggle, her brother, the last member of her family to remain there, joined his family here in Los Angeles. This is just one story from one of the thousands of people that come to Los Angeles each year looking for a part of the great "American dream", for freedom, and for that single thing so beautifully idealized in the movie "El Norte", hope. And who are these people that flood across the borders, and into the harbors? They are los imigrantes, the immigrants, your neighbors, your mechanic, your dry cleaner, the janitor in your office, the people sewing the clothes that you buy at the exclusive department stores. They are the majority of the residents of Echo Park.
"Given their historic lack of power in the Archdiocese,
Latino parishioners have long been accustomed to
variable doses of neglect, paternalism, and
accommodation."
--Mike
Davis
Since the 1920's, and specifically, over the last thirty years, Echo Park has experienced a steady and continuous change in its ethnic demography. Time has seen it go from an almost exclusively white, upper middle class neighborhood for the first forty years of the century, to fifty-six percent Hispanic in the late seventies, finally to the sixty-five percent Hispanic population that exists here now. According to the latest census information, twenty-five percent of the population in this area lives below the poverty level, with seventy percent of them working in the labor/manufacturing industries. It is the faces of these largely poor, first and second generation Hispanic immigrants that Father Alejandro Salazar sees when he looks out across the congregation gathered for the one spanish spoken mass offered each Sunday at Saint Theresa of Avila church in Echo Park where he is pastor. Over the two years that he has been here, he has seen attendance at this service go from "...about half full to standing room only." "I believe the people feel a connection with me since I am Hispanic also. They feel like they belong to this parish, like they have a community." It has been this very search for community, and subsequently, the absence of it in the past though, that has been a contributing factor in the increasing number of Hispanics moving away from the Catholic church, toward other faiths.
Five years ago, the building at 625 N. Alvarado St. was a small medical clinic. Two years ago, it became La Iglesia Evangelica "Cristo La Roca", or "Christ the Rock" Evangelical Church. Just down the street about a block and a half in what had previously been a locksmith shop was La Iglesia Cristiana "A Todos", or translated, the Christian Church "For Everyone." Today the "Church for Everyone" is closed, and the building up for lease, but Christ the Rock Church and a host of other "storefront churches" have continued to thrive and multiply, resulting in five new churches in a one mile area of Echo Park, all opening for business within the last six years. The reasons for this are complex and many, but I will address those which were most often repeated by the leaders of the different churches I visited. First and foremost, the Catholic church isn't meeting the needs of its Hispanic community. Samuel Boch, the pastor of the Hispanic congregation at the Golden West Christian Church, said "The Catholic Church just expects people to come to them, but we go to the people. The Catholic Church needs to become more contemporary in order to keep people coming. Change comes so slowly, that people feel alienated and go elsewhere. We try as a church to help people get assimilated into this culture, to get them stabilized in society." To this end, Rev. Boch offers English classes to his parishioners, a prenatal care program for young, unwed mothers, and a clothes bank for those in need. Jose Campos, pastor of La Iglesia de Dios Caminos de Santidad #7, oversees a food bank that is available to anyone claiming need, keeps a room at his home prepared for anyone who may need a place to sleep for the night, and has scheduled daily religious services in the evenings to allow for maximum attendance by those who work during the day. The Catholic church, in comparison, while still considered the largest humanitarian organization in the world (feeding more hungry, housing more homeless, caring for the sick), now finds itself unable to do as much on the community level, due in no small part, to a decreasing number of ordained clergy. According to Rev. Edward Clark, president of Saint John's Seminary in Camarillo, which is the seminary that supplies all the priests for the Archdiocese of Los Angeles, "before the Second Vatican Council, classes at the seminary were full, averaging forty to fifty priests ordained per class. Increasingly over the years since the Second Vatican Council, the number of young men ordained to the priesthood has decreased substantially." Father Joseph Palombo, an ordained priest for three years, told me that his class numbered thirty five, the largest class since 1955. The next two years following were dramatically lower, one having fifteen, the other only four. In a city growing as quickly as Los Angeles is growing, the decrease in Catholic clergy only hinders the Church's ability to minister to its people. Time and accessibility as well it seems, remain great sources of contention in the equation.
In most Latin American countries, the relationship between
the Catholic priest and his parishioners is a more intimate and
interpersonal one than it is here in the United States. In other
countries, most often, the priest of a town lives in the
community he serves, and has daily contact with his parishioners,
many of whom are his neighbors. Father Salazar told me,
"There is no sense of distance between the
priest and his people in Mexico and the other
Latin American countries like there is here
in the United States. The priest is one of
the people, he lives among the people, not
removed from them in some rectory where they
must have an appointment to get in."
Most priests will serve communities much smaller than those here in Los Angeles, allowing them to be more accessible to the people, and thus, more able to meet immediate needs. Father Salazar went on to describe a typical Mexican priest this way: "In Mexico, you can knock on the door of the priest's house at any time of the day, and he'll be there. Appointments are unheard of. People just stop by all the time, that's just the way it is." Immigrants from these countries come here expecting to find that things are the same. After all, it's the same church, right? Things aren't the same though. We are a nation that is ruled by time. We live according to the spaces in our daily planners. If you want to see the priest in America, you had better have an appointment. If you want to see the minister of one of the storefront churches, though, you will probably have more luck, even without an appointment. Every church I visited had the home phone number of the pastor available to anyone seeking it. Each pastor assured me that anyone could call at any time of the day or night and reach them. I must admit that it was much easier and quicker to talk to the pastors than it was to get an appointment with Father Salazar.
There seems to be a sense of urgency or immediacy as well within the Hispanic Catholic community in regards to the administration of the sacraments (baptism, first communion, confirmation, and marriage are the ones concerned here). Once again, it seems, that cultural differences account for what is often perceived as a shortcoming of the Catholic church. In most Latin American countries, a baby is both baptized and confirmed at the same time.
Many people are put off when they ask that their child be
confirmed at his/her first baptism here in the U.S., only to find
that confirmation is a two year process initiated years after
baptism. Father Salazar once again offered this:
"The faith of the Hispanic people is a beautiful,
simple faith, but if there is one thing that has always
troubled me about it, it is that Hispanics all too
often don't take responsibility for their faith, and
they don't understand it. Instead, they seek the
easiest way to get what they want. If they want their
child confirmed, and the Catholic church won't do it
right away, they'll go across the border to Tijuana
where the church traditionally will do it for them, or
they'll go to one of these storefront churches to get
their child confirmed, without any real understanding
of the sacrament they are receiving. It's just
something that has to be done, like enrolling their
child in first grade, or taking them to the doctor."
The same seems to hold for marriage. Couples wanting to marry in the Church must wait eight months to a year before they exchange their vows. However, at La Iglesia de Dios de la Nueva Jerusalem on Glendale Boulevard, you can get married usually "two weeks to a month after you come in." The tragic part of this all says Father Salazar, is that "these people believe that they are receiving the sacraments, because they are in a place that looks a little like a Catholic church, but they aren't. Nothing done outside of the church is considered valid by the church." Nonetheless, the immediate accessibility of these storefront churches seems to appeal to more and more people.
It seems, though, that it is the need for community and
cultural identity that lies at the very root of the division
between some Hispanics and the Catholic church. Justo Gonzalez
writes that:
"People are Hispanic not because of their race but
because of their culture and traditions. Genetically,
Hispanics are various mixtures of European, African,
Native American, and even Asian ancestry. It is the
language and all the traditions and social conventions
that go with it that make us Hispanic."
Yet to many, the Catholic church seems willing to recognize only language as the defining feature of the Hispanic culture. Each week this is demonstrated by the numerous masses celebrated across the city in Spanish. However, to Alicia Cubias, a mass without the traditions of her native El Salvador is lacking, and to Manuel Ochoa, a second generation immigrant to the area, a mass without Mariachis is not what it should be. The accusation is that the Catholic church has lumped all Spanish speaking peoples into a generic "Hispanic" grouping, forcing them to abandon the traditions that serve to define their cultures, offering them instead, an oftentimes anemic and passionless recitation of the mass by a priest speaking only rudimentary or broken Spanish. Father Palombo answers this accusation by saying that "the Catholic church, in initiating the Spanish spoken mass, is attempting to address the issue of language, not culture."
Those unwilling to part from tradition have consequently sought out alternative faiths in which they are able to celebrate their traditions in a community of their countrymen. Iglesia de Dios de la Nueva Jerusalem is predominantly Salvadorean. Golden West Christian Church is Guatemalan with some Mexican. La Iglesia "Cristo La Roca" is Mexican, as is Iglesia de Dios Camino de Santidad #7. While the number of servicegoers to these churches is still relatively small (all of them combined don't equal more than a couple of hundred people at any one time), it is the growing number of these small churches that is causing an increased sense of concern within the Catholic Church as we approach the new millennium.
"Religion should function to maintain and
integrate an ongoing sociocultural system.
It should not be an agent for change,
especially radical change.
--Spiro Agnew
Sociologists have long defined the role of the Church in
much the same way as Spiro Agnew does in this quote. Religion
has been it seems, to many a system sustainer, or a people
pleaser. Many sociologists believe that religion is more a
function of social convention than the belief in the
supernatural, as much a part of our social persona as Monday
Night football, little league, or PTA meetings. In his book A
Rumor of Angels, Peter Berger writes:
"...it is safe to say that, compared to earlier
historical periods, fewer Americans today adhere to the
churches out of a burning desire for salvation from
sin, but rather out of a desire to provide moral
instruction for their children and direction for their
family life, or just because it is part of the
lifestyle of their particular neighborhood."
The perceived growth away from religion has been predicted since as early the nineteenth-century and Voltaire, considered by many to be the father of the idea of Secularization. In more recent times, this prediction has been repeated by others. Dietrich Bonhoeffer believed that "We are moving toward a completely religionless time...a complete absence of religion."
So it is, with the coming of the new millennium, that there is an intense interest in the direction that the Catholic Church will take in the future, as well as the role the newer "popular" religions and "storefront churches" will play in the faith lives of the communities they serve.
The increasing popularity of churches like the Los Angeles Church of Christ, the Church of the Foursquare Gospel, and the less established "storefront" churches, all suggest the existence of what Harvey Cox calls "...the quest for new forms of collective interiority, the search for a new church." He sees people moving toward two directions, both of which he terms "blind alleys." The first is the "widely touted return to ethnicity." This involves the building up and strengthening of bonds between people of the same ethnic background. While this is important to the culture of a people, it cannot become a substitute for religion, which is meant to unite people around God, not separate them by race. The most evident example of this that comes to my mind is the renewed interest by young African American men in the religion of Islam. Most Sundays at Venice beach, there is a group of militant, Muslim men that shout out the law of Allah, while predicting the day that black men will rise up and "smite their enemies". The other direction that Mr. Cox sees people moving in is the effort made be some people to "use the family as a substitute for what the church once provided." In recent times, conventional Christian churches have placed an emphasis on the sanctity of family life. There is the hope that within the context of the family group, one will experience moral guidance, support, and enough love, so as to live above the "ways of the world." Mr. Cox believes the family cannot function as a new church because "...we already load it with too many emotional expectations and because in its present form it perpetuates an obsolete form of male-over-female dominance."
Others see the continued search for a new church moving in a different direction. The pastors of the "storefront" churches that I spoke with, all believe that there will be an increasing need for such places of worship as long as people feel as though their needs are not being met. The growing need for a sense of community in a city that is becoming more and more polarized is one factor that Rev. Boch believes will keep bringing people to the Golden West Christian Church every week. It is the desire for community as well as the desire for the traditions of their country that will bring people back each week to La Iglesia de Dios de la Nueva Jerusalem. "It is the need to feel included" says Rev. Molina.
Within the Catholic Church, there is a growing sense of
frustration among some of the clergy. While Hispanics continue
to fall away, seeking their faith elsewhere, there are a rapidly
growing number of Asian and Filipino immigrants that are
zealously seeking admission into the church. It is this
commitment to their faith that some among the clergy say the
Hispanics do not have. One priest I interviewed said this:
"Sometimes it seems as if we have to chase down the
Hispanic Catholics, and drag them into church. It is
increasingly difficult to get them to show any interest
in learning more about their faith. They expect a lot
from the church, but they don't want to put in any
effort of their own, which has led to the question by
some,"Why bother?"
It is this sentiment as well as the more sinister and undisguisable mark of racism that has prompted one parish in Woodland Hills to vote against offering any Spanish services at all, saying that if anyone wants to go to Spanish mass, they can "go to our sister church."
Father Salazar is one who would admit to sometimes feeling the sense of frustration I have described. At the same time, however, he as well as many other clergy recognize the need for change within the church. "We must find a way to reach the people and minister to them. In the coming of the new millennium, Pope John Paul II is calling for Catholics to become greater evangelists. We must find a way to bring people back to the church they were born into." There is also the sense among many of the Catholic priests whom I talked to, that there is now beginning a general move back toward the traditional. Father Palombo told me, "As many people as you say are leaving the traditional church, I can show you just as many that have come back, looking for what they remember from their childhoods, wanting nothing to do with these new religions." This trend toward the traditional is one of the reasons a good number of the clergy believe that these "storefront" churches are here today and gone tomorrow. In their desire to please the masses, they have "democratized theology," making God an instrument and not an institution. Without God as the root and center of everything, there can be nothing more than mere human endeavor.
Also, oftentimes these new churches do not have professional clergy. Instead, the ministers may be self- appointed, or merely laymen chosen by other members of the group to lead the services. Very often the church is built around an individual personality, and when that person decides to move on to a different place, the church dissolves.
Finally, these new churches exercise flexible ideologies. Whatever dogma is present, is most often made to fit the varying needs of the congregation. The idea is to meet the needs of the people, rather than molding the people to fit the needs of the church. This approach, while very accommodating, lacks any foundation or central belief system, leaving it to drift without direction on the sea of popular thinking, making it drift in whatever direction popular opinion blows.
I believe that religion will remain an integral part of the human condition, both in America in general, and specifically in Los Angeles and Echo Park. In fact, I would say that as this city becomes more and more violent, more and more separated, the search for deeper meaning that religion offers will become more necessary in our attempts to understand each other. Until the institutionalized church truly understands how the faith of poor people, in this case Hispanic immigrants, reveals not only their pain and struggles, but how their hopes have been twisted and blurred by the very religion that seeks to embrace them, the search for new expressions of faith will continue. I believe what Father Salazar read to me from a quote he had obtained:
"Religion is the folk answer to a system that is over- certified, and too specialized. It is the last voice for decentralization and the free enterprise system. What began as an opportunity for women, ethnic minorities, and the economically disadvantaged to improve their condition in society, might end up being the salvation for the whole of society, bringing it back to its roots."