'A wind of change'

More than 50 years ago, people stood near a church entrance in St. Augustine to keep blacks from coming inside.

The civil rights movement was underway, and some staged protests by trying to gain entry into racially divided churches. Some houses of worship, including what is now called First United Methodist Church on King Street, turned them away.

A lot has changed in 50 years.

A few weeks ago, Juana Jordan became the first African-American pastor to lead the mostly white congregation at First United Methodist Church. She is also the first female pastor.

Jordan described her selection as the senior pastor as a move of God to rewrite the narrative of the church, and she said she also believes she is taking part in bigger changes in St. Augustine.

“I think this what redemption looks like," Jordan said.

Before the Civil War, black and white Methodists worshiped together in St. Augustine, historian David Nolan said. Part of that arrangement might have been because whites didn't want to let slaves meet alone in case they planned to plot a revolt, he said.

During the Civil War, whites left but later claimed the property, Nolan said. The building was sold and the money was split, and black and white congregants formed separate churches. 

The black church is what is now known as Trinity Independent Methodist Church on Bridge Street. The white church became First United Methodist Church, also known as the "pumpkin church" on King Street for its annual pumpkin sales.

The church divide wasn't limited to St. Augustine. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. called 11 o'clock on Sunday morning the most segregated hour in Christian America.

In 1964, a white woman walked  Audrey Willis and Janice Boles to the King Street church. There, a church leader told the woman that the girls could not come inside, according to the Associated Press. The church voted not long after to accept all people, according to the story.

About 40 years later the church held a reconciliation ceremony and apologized to the women, including another who had been turned away. Nolan said theirs was the only white church in the city willing to apologize for such actions.

Pat Turner-Sharpton was pastor at the time of the ceremony. By then, black people were part of the congregation. Still, he felt the church's reputation needed mending.

“I felt like the way the church was perceived in the community for that particular time of turning people away and having them arrested and just being, I guess, closed to people of color — I felt like the perception was there and would kind of always be there if we didn’t do something to say that that’s not who we are, and we’re very sorry that happened," Turner-Sharpton said.

Turner-Sharpton retired this year after serving about 17 years at the church, making way for Jordan to take the lead.

St. Augustine wasn't a home Jordan envisioned for herself. She grew up in Jacksonville, and she heard that St. Augustine was a mean place for black people, she said.

But she also didn't plan on going into ministry.

When she graduated from high school, she wanted to be a journalist. She worked at the Tallahassee Democrat before she started to feel like God wanted her to change paths, though she didn't know how.

She says she eventually realized God wanted her to be a pastor. That revelation came in part when she had a vision of herself at a church lectern talking to people.

“It’s shocking when you realize God has a plan for you other than what you dreamed for yourself," she said.

She went to seminary and took her first appointment at a United Methodist church in South Florida with a congregation of more than 100 African-Americans, Jamaicans, Haitians and some biracial families.

She spent several years there before the Methodist church leadership sent her to Jacksonville to help establish a multi-ethnic church, but Jordan said that effort didn't turn out the way the leadership wanted. She was assigned to First United Methodist Church and started as pastor this month.

When asked what it feels like to be the first black pastor of a historic church, she said it's too early to tell. Everything is still new. At the time of her interview, she'd preached six sermons over two Sundays.

For now she's embarking on a "listening tour." She'll be finding out what dreams people in the church have and figuring out how the church can continue to grow a legacy of love left by the previous pastor, she said. She would also like to increase diversity at the church.

Jordan calls the congregation courageous, and she said their response to her has been beautiful.

When she learned of Methodist officials' decision to send her to St. Augustine, she was hesitant, she said. She didn't understand why God would send her here.

But she took a black history tour downtown. She learned about the influence of Christian theologian Saint Augustine, one of her favorites in the faith, on the city. She learned more about the civil rights struggles here. She looked around the neighborhoods and felt a connection with the people. She saw signs in people's yards that read, "Hate has no home here."

"I really felt like there's a wind of change that must be happening here, and I am supposed to be part of that," she said. "And it started making sense to me. ... I just felt like St. Augustine is moving into a whole different type of reality. So if I can be a part of that doing what I love to do, which is share the good news and tell these stories of Jesus and begin to help liberate people ... Then OK, that's a great thing. I want to do that."