Eric Brady | The Roanoke Times

The Rev. Thomas Pleasant preaches recently at Mount Moriah Baptist Church. He said he believes the membership will grow again.

Eric Brady | The Roanoke Times

Silas Witt of Mount Moriah Baptist Church plays the piano for Sunday services.

Josh Meltzer | The Roanoke Times

The Rev. Thomas Pleasant looks over state and federal recognitions that Mount Moriah has received.

Courtesy of Mount Moriah Baptist Church

A congregation photo from 1946.

"Bigger is not always better."

At least that is what Deacon Travis Curtis of Mount Moriah Baptist Church says.

As Mount Moriah approaches its 150th anniversary, the tiny church in Northeast Roanoke is struggling to maintain its building and accommodate its graying congregation, which has shrunk to 13.

Meanwhile, several black churches in the city are beefing up evangelism ministries to increase their congregations from dozens to hundreds, while symbolizing their success with newer, larger buildings.

A white sign that's barely visible from U.S. 460 marks the small white church, built in 1858.

Flower pots, fashioned from the remains of a chimney that was damaged in 2004 in a vandalism attack that caused $50,000 in damage, decorate the church's front lawn. Inside, a small sanctuary takes you back to another time, when good old-time, foot-stomping religion was the only way.

Reginald Shareef, author of the only comprehensive history of Roanoke's black heritage, said shifts in society and culture are driving changes in the way churches recruit members. He said he believes Mount Moriah has been left behind in this process.

As the oldest black church in the Roanoke Valley, Mount Moriah dates to 1842, when Charles Lewis Cocke, founder of what is now Hollins University, broke the law and taught his slaves how to read the Bible. They formed what is now Mount Moriah Baptist Church.

Today, the church stays true to its roots. It promises the "true and full-gospel straight from the Bible." Although there is no choir anymore, members still sing traditional hymns such as "Pass Me Not" and "Higher Ground."

Over the years, Mount Moriah has tip-toed into modern society. It added indoor plumbing in 1994 and air conditioning and a furnace to replace the pot-bellied stove that used to warm the church.

Struggle to survive

Mount Moriah has always been a small church. In its heyday, it would easily fill the sanctuary to capacity with 50 people. But now its few members dot the first three pews.

Services are held only on the second and fourth Sundays of each month, to cut down on costs and accommodate its aging members.

But its members and the pastor, the Rev. Thomas Pleasant, aren't worried.

In a recent Sunday sermon, Pleasant told the congregation that he believes God will bless them with more members. But with only eight active members, and five who are sick and shut in, the future of the church seems grim to others.

Mount Moriah's dwindling membership could be the result of some blacks in the valley forgetting where they came from and the true meaning of the church, Curtis said.

"They forget their roots," he said. "Over a period of time we have become a society of selfish people. We want things bigger and better. We like to glorify ourselves and forget about glorifying Christ. ... A lot of Christians feel that we have something to prove to mankind. But as long we please God then that's the only thing that matters.

"Size doesn't show that you're sincere about doing the will of God," he added.

The Rev. Edward Burton, of Sweet Union Baptist Church, on Madison Avenue Northwest, has a pastoral tenure that stretches back almost 50 years. He said his church, along with several others, has contributed money and services to Mount Moriah.

Even though many churches have helped Mount Moriah financially, a bigger help would be filling the church, Curtis said.

Deacon Donald Johnson of Mount Moriah said he joined the church in 2006 because he saw a need there.

"So many times we go where we want to go instead of where God wants us to go," Johnson said.

Despite the efforts of the members, Burton pronounced the chances of Mount Moriah's being revived as "slim to none."

"They are a small group of people who have a sense of pride in their history and they want to hold on to that -- because they love it."

Burton said Mount Moriah should remain open for services such as vacation Bible school, weddings and other special occasions, but not for regular services.

Historic landmark

However, Pleasant rejects comments like Burton's and believes the church will see more years.

"We expect a turnaround," he said. "It's an old church, but God has put no time on us. All these pastors -- they may be looking at the bigger picture, but I'm looking at the smaller picture. I'm not giving up on this church. ... God said if I'm for you then everyone else can't be against you."

Pleasant clings to his Christian faith and teaches the congregation to do the same.

"We've survived this long, and I don't think that God would bring us this far to leave us now," he said with a fiery passion.

At one point, Pleasant was the pastor to only two members: Louise Witt, the church's clerk, and her husband, Deacon Silas Witt. Many of the other members were sick and shut in or had died.

Louise Witt said many people urged her to close the doors. But she didn't budge.

"I said 'No.' As long as God gives us health and strength, we'll be here," she said.

In the past year, the church has taken in five new members and had an ordination ceremony for two new deacons -- the church's first in 30 years.

Mount Moriah has a type of religious offering that is rare in today's society. The charm of the church still captivates its members.

In 1994, Mount. Moriah was listed on the National Register of Historic Places. The building will be protected by the Virginia Department of Historic Resources, in case the church's members are no longer able to maintain it.

"No matter how many storms come through -- this church is still going to be standing," Louise Witt said. "I always say, we're going to be that one church that when Jesus comes back -- he's going to be pleased with us."