Hidden within the vibrant tapestry of Harlem’s history lies the story of the Church of the Master. It stood proudly at the corner of 122nd Street and Morningside Avenue. The church began its life in 1893, not as the Church of the Master, but as the Morningside Presbyterian Church. Architect William C. Haskell envisioned a charming Victorian-style structure, crafted from orange brick. It stood in stark contrast to the newly constructed brownstones across from Morningside Park. The interior, initially devoid of elaborate ornamentation, reflected the church’s humble beginnings. It was a simple, village-style church, an unusual sight for a Manhattan corner lot in the late 1890s. The Church of the Master witnessed the changing demographics of Harlem. By 1935, Central Harlem, north of 125th Street, became predominantly Black. A new community grew around 118th Street and Manhattan Avenue, expanding north and west. These changes were often met with resistance from the white community. In 1937, Reverend William Bishop Gates, the pastor of Morningside Presbyterian, noted renewed interest in the church. However, most members resided outside the neighborhood. Mr. Gates himself lived on Riverside Drive. Sadly, the Presbytery of New York closed the church in March 1938, citing the influx of Black residents as the reason. Racial tensions extended to religious institutions. Churches often closed rather than integrate. In this climate, a new chapter began for the church. In May 1938, the church reopened under the leadership of James H. Robinson, a young Black graduate of Union Theological Seminary. He was encouraged by Harry Emerson Fosdick, pastor of Riverside Church, to take over. Robinson renamed the church, The Church of the Master. Margaret Riley, a parishioner from the very first service, recalled attending with her husband and seven-year-old son. They previously attended St. James Presbyterian on West 142nd Street. But the closer proximity of the Church of the Master saved them valuable carfare. Riley said, “Every dime counted then.” The first service saw only ten attendees. By Robinson’s retirement in 1960, the congregation had grown to over 1,000. The church building, a cherished landmark in the community, was sadly demolished in January 2010. Its story serves as a testament to the resilience and evolution of Harlem.
Центральный дом работников искусств
Step through the grand wooden doors of the Central House of the Workers of Art, and you’ll be transported to