LOS ANGELES — Bearing a large wooden cross upon his shoulder, Pastor John Shaver walked along the street where his church once stood just months earlier. The Community United Methodist Church of Pacific Palisades, an institution with a 102-year history, was tragically reduced to ashes by a wildfire in January that ravaged much of the area. On Good Friday, Shaver, alongside a small group of community members, gathered at the now barren church site. The sounds of construction filled the air as workers prepared the site for rebuilding.
The group embarked on a Good Friday “cross walk,” beginning at their church and moving towards the bluffs that offer breathtaking views of the Pacific Ocean. They paused at nine distinct locations, reading a Bible verse at each stop—a short modification from the customary 14-step devotion that marks the suffering, crucifixion, and death of Christ. Each station along the way corresponds to a portion of Jesus’ final day, from his condemnation to burial.
While the congregation continued to hold Sunday services at different venues recently, this walk marked the first instance members set foot upon the church grounds following the fire, which resulted in nearly 80% of the congregation, including Shaver himself, losing their homes.
Reflecting upon what the fire claimed, church member Christine Odionu paused by her ravaged condo. All that had survived was the garage. Overcome with emotion, her voice trembled as she reflected. “It’s just too painful,” she said. “Easter is a time of hope. But today feels like a day of mourning.”
Among those affected was Annette Rossilli, an 85-year-old long-standing church member and one of the 29 people who perished when the wildfires swept across the Los Angeles area spurred by dry conditions and fierce winds in early January. Pastor Shaver fondly remembered Rossilli as they carried on their walk. He also stood where his family home once sheltered his wife and two teenage daughters, reflecting briefly on what the fire consumed, including priceless family heirlooms. “It’s also a reminder of all we take for granted,” Shaver remarked, noting he wore clothes graciously donated after the tragedy in the spirit of thankfulness.
Good Friday saw the street, Via De La Paz, humming with activity as construction vehicles and demolition crews worked tirelessly. Despite the flurry of activity, an eerie sensation lingered. Charred palm trees drooped as twisted steel and warped timber protruded from what used to be homes. One plot held a solitary brick fireplace, another, two broken red Adirondack chairs amid rubble. Several residents erected blue signs that read, “This home will rise again,” or in one case: “We are coming home! Hope to see you there. We miss you! Thank you for everything!” Palisades Elementary Charter School, which remained intact across from the church, maintained a hopeful message: “Pali will rebuild.”
Thomas Knoll, a resident since 2012 who too lost his home, attended the gathering despite not being a church member. “This feels like a funeral for Pacific Palisades,” he observed. “The whole story of crucifixion and resurrection resonates here. This town will be rebuilt, albeit slowly.”
As much as the fire destroyed, some items were fortunately saved, including ceramic mugs and tiles. A member courageously retrieved a metal cross from the church’s former tower, and a stone cross survived as well. Pastor Shaver is hopeful they can incorporate these into the new church. Before the journey began across the church grounds, Adriana Ruhman sifted through blackened ceramic tiles, hoping to find one bearing her children’s handprints from their time at the church’s preschool a decade ago. “I feel like I hit the jackpot,” she exclaimed with hope.
Mary Katherine Breland, an attendee from Los Angeles, said the church reminded her of communities she cherished growing up in Alabama. This marked her return since the devastating fire. “Witnessing it firsthand ignites emotions,” she shared. “Easter presents a chance for us to reconnect, reflect on past beauty, and envision our future.”
Good Friday marked the first cross walk for this church, a tradition Shaver hopes to continue. As they approached a bluff, where a sign reads “End”, they pushed onwards to embrace the sprawling view of the Pacific. Easter Sunday will see them joining services at Westwood United Methodist Church.
“The sign may say ‘End,’ but this marks a new beginning,” Shaver told the congregants, a view of the future framed by hope. The cross, bare on Good Friday, will transform on Easter Sunday. Adorned with fresh flowers, it will symbolize the congregation’s renewal and rebirth.