Estimated read time: 5-6 minutes
This archived news story is available only for your personal, non-commercial use. Information in the story may be outdated or superseded by additional information. Reading or replaying the story in its archived form does not constitute a republication of the story.
ST. PAUL PARK, Minn. (AP) — When the church service ended, prayers burst out everywhere.
In the pews, two women stood and embraced, one crying, one praying.
By the pulpit, the Rev. Rich Pfeffer was locked in a four-way hug, praying aloud for a sick baby.
An ashen-faced man lurched toward the altar, and by his third step a group had clustered around him, praying in murmurs and tears.
Prayers flow freely at the Household of Faith in St. Paul Park, the St. Paul Pioneer Press (http://bit.ly/1C6DgUv ) reported. Prayers are why Pfeffer founded the church, so people recovering from alcoholism or drug addiction can get help from God and from each other.
"This is like a hospital," said Scott Simonson of West St. Paul, who said prayers for several people on a recent Sunday. "It's for everyone who is sick."
Art Dewey of South St. Paul surveyed the pop-up prayer groups and smiled. "It is a blessing to see the transformation of the people here," he said.
Roughly 95 percent of the congregation has past or present issues with addiction, according to Pfeffer, who is 57. He calls it a "recovery church," which is common in inner cities but almost unheard of in the suburbs.
But he said he picked the location because the suburbs have plenty of people with addictions; they're just better at hiding it than people in cities.
Pfeffer has credibility with ex-addicts because he is one. In the early 1980s, he played in a local band, and the rock 'n' roll lifestyle turned into alcoholism. After becoming sober in 1984, he worked 22 years in a soup kitchen on St. Paul's East Side, helping the community's most beaten-down people. "I came across a lot of people with grave needs," he said.
He opened the church in 1994. It is "strictly Bible-based," unaffiliated with any denomination, he said. The word got out, and former soup kitchen users began to come from as far as Minneapolis.
The building is a former Episcopalian church, built on the design of a rambler home to fit into the residential neighborhood. "This is where God wants us to be," Pfeffer said.
The church was immediately successful, with as many as 190 people coming to Sunday services. But in recent years, it has faced recovery issues of its own.
In December 2011, newly installed roof-support trusses collapsed in the middle of the night, forcing the congregation to rebuild.
Then last year, Pfeffer was nearly killed. Babysitting his toddler granddaughter, he saw her about to fall down a flight of stairs. Pfeffer dove, tumbled down and cradled the girl as they fell. The girl was unhurt -- but he landed hard, snapped his neck and was paralyzed.
He has since recovered, somewhat. "I am about halfway back, strength-wise," he said.
The membership of the church slumped but recently has been recovering. It has just completed a successful drive to raise $20,000 for remodeling. Services have been in a lecture hall at Park High School in Cottage Grove, but the congregation hopes to move into the remodeled church by Christmas.
___
The services blend raw emotion, biblical advice and many, many prayers.
In the lecture hall last Sunday, 30 people sat in rows, some of them waving hands in the air during songs. Each song was followed by hypnotic half-singing, half-talking voices that tapered off: "We love you, Lord," ''You are beautiful" and "We are hungry for you, God."
George "Ponch" Iniguez, with a 3-foot ponytail and arms dark with tattoos, began a spontaneous prayer. His voiced cracked as he prayed: "We all have issues, Lord. I pray for this sister" -- nodding toward a woman -- "I pray for healing on her."
After the prayers were over, the room felt like an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. People introduced themselves with numbers -- the years and months since they kicked their addictions.
"Hi, I'm Scott, sober for six years," said church member Simonson, shaking the hand of a stranger.
Everyone had a story of how God -- with help from Pfeffer -- saved them. Their pastor inspires loyalty and love.
"I believe in his vision," said Calvin Randle, who played the maracas during a hymn.
"He is doing this for the down and out, the people on the street who come to the end of the month and their food is all gone. Everyone has been like that, down and out. Everyone knows what you are going through.
"He has a heart."
Allisa Dufauchard of Eagan huddled in a prayer group, and then emerged, beaming. "They pray for you here. They show you love," she said.
Cari Curtis, a cousin of the pastor, had a brother who drank himself to death two years ago.
"I have addiction issues in my family," Curtis said. But her own depression, alcoholism and drug addiction are behind her, she said. "I am happier now than I have ever been since early childhood."
With all the prayers flying around, the media itself could not escape untouched.
Simonson approached a departing Pioneer Press reporter, offering a prayer. Before you could say "Alleluia!," another man joined in, both their hands on his shoulder, praying out loud for the reporter's body and soul, and accuracy in writing this story.
It was the last prayer of the morning. "I know that you, God," said Simonson, his head bowed, "can work in the news media."
___
Information from: St. Paul Pioneer Press, http://www.twincities.com
This is an AP Member Exchange shared by the St. Paul Pioneer Press
Copyright © The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.
