Photos by JARED SOARES | The Roanoke Times

Damiano Ndayizigiye covers his face during worship. Ndayizigiye is part of a group of 35 refugees from Burundi who regularly attend worship service at Celebration Church of God in Roanoke County on Sunday mornings.

Originally from Brazil, church member Joslaine Austin (right) helps Damiano Ndayizigiye fill out forms. Many of the refugees arrive carrying debt for their flights to the United States.

A group of Burundi children listen during Sunday school. The Burundi children now make up one of the largest groups among the church's children, a situation that runs counter to national trends.

The Rev. Sam Belisle prays for David Birahwe after worship service at Celebration Church of God. Belisle says the church didn't set out to attract a diverse congregation.

Megan Argabright, 13, and Furaha Ndayishimiye watch children in the nursery during worship service.

Some of the most visible regulars at Celebration Church of God in Southwest Roanoke County don't speak enough English to know much of what the Rev. Sam Belisle is saying -- even though he occasionally points their way for emphasis.

Packing two front rows, the 30 or so refugees from war-torn Burundi in East Africa don't know the hymns, although some politely mouth the words.

But one essential element of Sunday morning services isn't being lost in translation. Andre Ntahonkuriye, 39, summed up what attracts them.

"We can feel we are welcome here."

Celebration Church's Pentecostal congregation has become an ethnic and cultural melting pot during Belisle's 10-year tenure. The church draws numerous Hispanic immigrants from countries that are traditionally Catholic.

The church's welcoming nature is what drew Dr. Kye Kim, a geriatric psychiatrist from South Korea. He says he chose Celebration despite the existence of several predominantly Korean congregations in the area.

"This church took my family into its heart," he said.

Celebration has embraced the Burundians, too, since the Catholic Diocese of Richmond's Refugee and Immigration Service helped them settle in Northwest Roanoke -- about 10 miles from the church -- in February.

"They send vans to pick us up at our homes. We fill three vans, and they burn a lot gas," said Ntahonkuriye, speaking through an interpreter, Kenyan immigrant Jebeta Kibogy. She's a member of St. Gerard's Catholic Church in Northwest Roanoke who volunteered to help Celebration with the Burundians at Belisle's request.

"I met the pastor at the Local Colors festival in Elmwood Park" in May, recalled Kibogy. "He was walking around asking, 'Does anyone here speak Swahili?' "

Several Burundians also attend St. Gerard's, and Catholics are more common in their native land than are Pentecostals. Most of the Burundians who attend Celebration grew up in Free Methodist congregations, but the closest one they have found is in Lynchburg.

Celebration's Burundians were referred to Belisle as an alternative by Keith Holton, a Free Methodist minister in Harrisonburg. The two have been friends for years since both pastored churches in Waynesboro.

"He just knew they were looking for a church in Roanoke and thought of me," Belisle said.

About 35 percent of the 300 or so people who typically attend Celebration on Sunday morning are racial minorities, making the church an anomaly in Southwest Roanoke County, where foreign-born residents account for only 4.1 percent of the total population, according to the U.S. Census Bureau's 2006 survey. The survey showed that the county is 91 percent white, 5 percent black and 1.8 percent Hispanic, with Asians and others rounding out the total.

But while the 54-year-old Belisle is proud of his church's diversity, he doesn't claim credit: "I have no strategy for attracting minorities. I really can't explain it."

Yet Celebration's open-door attitude has been evident since the late 1990s, when someone had the idea of hanging flags in the sanctuary representing each country where the church has supported missionary work. The number is currently 40, including Burundi's banner, with its three red stars.

"But the flags by themselves are just symbols. They don't build diversity by themselves," Belisle said. "I guess you could say word of mouth is part of it, and then people of different sorts had to feel something special when they came here, or they wouldn't return."

Joslaine Austin, a Brazilian immigrant who joined Celebration five months ago, said the mixture of cultures at the church is comfortable.

"This isn't the kind of coming together you can plan; it just happened," she said. "A Hispanic friend invited me."

Austin has three children, ages 1, 2 and 13. "The church youth is very diversified; it's a warm atmosphere."

American-born church members said the influx of immigrants has been accepted without noticeable backlash, and they haven't heard of anyone leaving the congregation because of its changing ethnic makeup.

"My only concern has been can we find room for everybody?" said Stephanie Alderson, who supervises Sunday school and children's church classes that include six Burundians. The Africans' attendance in that age group now outnumbers Alderson's Hispanic students.

Rusty Dailey, a Celebration member who has ushered on Sundays for five years, said the Burundians are "a mission outreach that has come home to us."

Most of the Burundians attending Celebration have been displaced from their hometowns by civil war since the early 1970s and were living in refugee camps, first in Zaire, and lately in Tanzania.

"Most of the people in this group have never even lived in Burundi, they have been refugees all their lives," said Kibogy, the volunteer interpreter.

At the request of the United Nations, the Bush administration has agreed to admit 5,000 Burundians to the United States this year. Most arrive in America in considerable debt because they must agree to repay the federal government for their plane tickets -- typically $4,000 or so each.

"I owe $14,000 in plane tickets for my family, and in my job I make about $1,200 a month," Ntahonkuriye said.

So going to church is one of the few outings the Burundians can afford. On Sunday they didn't contribute to the offering plates being passed, and Belisle said he doesn't expect them to, at least in the short term.

On June 1, Celebration offered the Burundians an after-church picnic -- simple fare of rice, green beans and roasted chicken with store-bought cookies for dessert.

They asked Belisle for one more favor: a room in which to hold their own service as a group before Celebration's Sunday worship starts. Belisle agreed, and wondered if others in the congregation might attend the Burundians' gathering in the interest of more cultural blending.

Yes, said the refugees through Kibogy, "Even wazungu are welcome."

Belisle inquired, "What are wazungu?"

The Burundians chuckled.

Kibogy translated: "Wazungu is Swahili for white people."

Data delivery editor Matt Chittum contributed to this report.