What Remains

San Francisco church fire kindles unexpected community

By Becky St. Clair

“A black and white picture of the sanctuary right now looks like something from WWII,”
commented Mark Ferrell, pastor of the San Francisco Central church (SFC). We were
standing in the balcony, overlooking the worst of the damage from the June 29 fire that
destroyed the primary worship space of the church that had been standing for 134 years.

He was not wrong. Blackened wood beams with jagged ends lay at various angles, piled on
top of broken, burned, and water-damaged wooden pews. A single chandelier dangled from
a solitary electrical cord, swinging and spinning in the wind. The wind—no longer held at
bay by walls and a ceiling—whistled through twisted metal and ruffled tithe envelopes. The
organ pipes were heat-marked and partially fallen; rubble rested on the end of the grand
piano. A microphone receiver swayed back and forth from the balcony, where a sound
board rested sideways on the railing. Overhead, where the beautiful wooden ceiling should
have been, clouds could be seen through broken boards, scudding across a bright blue sky.
Parts of the city could be seen through what was left of a brick wall.

Downstairs the damage was not from fire; it was from water. The carpets were soaked and
covered in soggy plaster; tile floors had standing water in places; the ceiling panels had
collapsed, and insulation hung from the gaping holes left behind. Paint was peeling from
the piano in the children’s room. All of this could only be seen with high-powered
flashlights, as the building had no electricity, and every window was boarded up to deter
looters—who still make nightly attempts to pilfer whatever they can, despite increased
police presence in the neighborhood and private security on site.

Scars are part of our stories
On the afternoon of June 29, Ferrell was at work at Stanford University (he is a lay pastor)
when a text pinged his phone. “I’m probably not the first person to text you this, but I was
just watching the news, and the church is on fire.”

“Well, they were the first,” Ferrell said. “I rushed into my boss’ office and said I had to go,
and I raced to the church.”

When he arrived, smoke was pouring from the roof and dozens of firefighters were on the
scene. Ferrell and the battalion chief became nearly inseparable, as the chief needed access
and layout information for his crew. Ferrell drew him diagrams and showed him photos of
whatever they needed.

At one point, the battalion chief asked Ferrell if there was anything specific inside the
building he’d like them to try and save. “We have to have that pulpit,” Farrell told him.

The pulpit is a carryover (literally) from the original San Francisco Central church on
Laguna Street, where both Ellen and James White had preached at one time, and is
therefore a significant piece of Adventist Church history on the West Coast.

Unfortunately, the fire crew could not retrieve the pulpit. Once the fire was extinguished
and Farrell was given permission to enter the building, he and a few elders dug down into
the rubble where the pulpit would have been to see if any remnants were salvageable.

“We found the pulpit—intact but for a small burned section and a few scorch scars,” Ferrell
said with a smile. “We took it to a local restoration company, and they have offered to
restore it as a gift to the church. I asked them to repair the burn but leave the scars. Scars
are what make us beautiful. Scars are part of our stories.”

We will leave here healed people
On Sabbath, July 4, their first Sabbath after the fire, the SFC members gathered with their
sister congregation a few blocks away, the Philadelphian Seventh-day Adventist Church.

“I was just sitting in my office midweek,” shared Shelton Kilby, pastor of the Philadelphian
church, “and I heard a voice say to me, ‘Call Mark.’ I immediately knew what I needed to
do.” When Ferrell answered the phone, Kilby said, “Come worship with us this Sabbath. Our
church is your church. My pulpit is your pulpit.”

When Sabbath morning arrived, the church gently came alive as members from both SFC
and Philadelphian began to arrive. An elder from Philadelphian posted signage so SFC
members knew where to go for Sabbath School; SFC holds Sabbath morning Bible study in
English, Spanish, and Tagalog. Members hugged and greeted one another and introduced
themselves to people they didn’t recognize. Some entered and sat quietly in a pew for a
while as light poured through the stunning stained-glass windows on either side of the
sanctuary.

The service was unique, with not only pastors from both churches on the platform but also
Virgil Childs, vice president for Black Ministries at Pacific Union Conference; Ricardo
Viloria, Northern California Conference president; and Stephen Sherrill, city supervisor for
District 2 (where these two churches are located).

“Our goal today as we worship together, cry together, and sing together, is that we will
leave here healed people,” Ferrell stated from the platform that Sabbath.

I have faith because of you
When Sherrill spoke, he commented that something like this tragedy is not unique in the
church’s history. “What I mean by that is that you are welcoming, open, gracious, and kind,
and I think today is both a wonderful example of you and this community—but also not
particularly special because you do it every day.”

He continued by saying he wanted to be present at church that Sabbath for two reasons:
First, to make sure the SFC church members knew they have support of the city in the
rebuilding of their church. “I know there will be hurdles, but I will be there alongside you,”
he said. And second, to say thank you.

“When I saw Mark standing on the street while the fire was still burning and the embers
were still hot, while the smoke was still coming out of the church, his attitude was one of

hope for the future,” Sherrill commented. “He has incredible grace, incredible faith in God. I
can see that in all of you, too. I have faith because of you. I have hope for the future, for
these two congregations here today, for this community, and for this country because of
you. So I want to thank you for your optimism, your commitment, and your faith.”

Before he left the platform, Sherrill was the recipient of a prayer of blessing by the pastors.

Brothers and sisters, all are we
Music was a central focus of the remainder of the service; a praise team from SFC led the
congregation in several songs, including “We Have This Hope” and “Side by Side We Stand,”
a meaningful statement with members of two congregations joining hands across aisles
and around the room.

The sermon time was shared by Kilby, Viloria, and Ferrell, each presenting an inspiring and
encouraging message from the heart.

Following the service, the congregations shared a fellowship meal, provided by the
Philadelphian church. Members of the SFC church were invited to go through line first, and
for an hour and a half, the gym was full of the aroma of homecooked food and the sound of
comfortable conversation.

“This is my home”
Though the fire was very much a local experience, it has impacted people far beyond the
borders of San Francisco.

Paul Pellandini is an 82-year-old retiree living in Berrien Springs, Michigan. On Monday
evening, he returned home late from a Bible study and found his wife still awake, watching
the news. “Come look at this, Paul!” she called. “There was a fire today at San Francisco
Central church!”

When Paul was a child, he lived with his single father, his siblings, and a hired nanny in a
small two-bedroom house in the heart of San Francisco. Though his family was Catholic,
Paul and his siblings attended church on Saturdays with their nanny—at San Francisco
Central church. This experience transformed Paul’s faith, and he eventually became an
Adventist himself. He holds a special place in his heart for SFC.

As soon as he saw the news, Paul felt compelled to travel to San Francisco to worship and
grieve his home church alongside its current members. “I had to be here,” he stated, his
eyes shining with tears. “This is my home. This is my church.”

Later that afternoon, Paul was part of a group who took a guided walk-through of the
burned church. He stood, somber, staring down into the rubble. “Unbelievable,” he
whispered in a voice full of emotion, his lower lip quivering. Then he walked slowly away,
shaking his head sadly.

The church still exists
Cleanup of the burn site is currently being negotiated; the space is not safe for the general
public to enter, and the church must obtain an emergency demolition permit, close the
street on one side, and haul away the remnants of the building.

The most immediate financial need is to get a temporary location up and running. A
temporary sound system, equipment for livestreaming, and children’s ministries supplies
are top priorities. For details on how to contribute, visit sfcentral.org.

As Childs said during the church service on July 4, “The building may be damaged, but the
church still exists. Even what appears to be the worst situation is an opportunity for God to
reveal His glory. May you be encouraged and restored.”

Pacific Union Conference
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