This story aired in the October 24, 2024 episode of Crosscurrents.
GLIDE Memorial church has been a cornerstone of the Tenderloin for almost 100 years. They call their tradition of welcoming anybody with no exceptions “radical love."
Starting in 1969, the man at the heart of GLIDE was Reverend Cecil Williams. He and his wife, Janice Mirikitani, focused on three approaches at GLIDE: spirituality through the church, physical needs through the social services, and the social justice work in the streets.
But Mirikitani died in 2021 And Williams died three years later, in April of this year. Now, many of those carrying the mission shaped by the couple are people who used to rely on those services themselves.
"I volunteered in the kitchen because I didn't want to stand in line. I didn't want people to know that I didn't have enough money to get food to eat, so I volunteered.... I volunteered so that I could get my basic needs met." - Freddy Martin
I’m at GLIDE’S nearly 100-year-old sanctuary following Vernon Bush. Until August he was the music director at Glide. Old wooden floorboards shift underfoot and I see how decades of gentle hands have worn down the many railings and doorknobs. All of the choir members are well acquainted with each other, and they welcome me quickly.
While beating a drum, Vernon leads the choir in singing “Encourage my Soul,” a piece he says “got them through the pandemic.”
Like the overall membership of GLIDE, the 25 choir members represent a cross section of city residents: doctors, lawyers, artists, and recovering addicts.
GLIDE’S approach of non-denominational inclusivity means anybody can participate in any capacity, regardless of who they are or what they believe. Reverend Cecil famously removed the cross from the church altar early in his tenure, sheltered LGBTQ and marginalized youth, and hosted political activists. Every year Glide even hosts Sunday service at the SF Pride parade.
Since forming in 1966, the choir has been a huge draw for churchgoers. Vernon credits Reverend Cecil.
“Cecil inherently knew the music just from being in the South and just the black experience of music that music moves people, and then the fact that he allowed all kinds of music, it wasn't just gospel music, it was jazz, it was blues, it was classical– everything, all the genres. He wanted to mix it all up.”
Vernon tells me he is the son of a preacher. Growing up, he attended service several times a week. He was basically “born in the church.” So when he touched down in San Francisco in the 90’s, he says he was tired of church, and he had no desire to return.
Eventually it was the music that pulled Vernon into GLIDE. He says the choir – then at its peak of 100 members – satisfied his need to be grounded. The group became famous for collaborating with the likes of Marvin Gaye, Joan Baez, and Sammy Davis, Jr.
And now Vernon is playing music like this at Sunday service.
“I was like, this is a church? Playing all this kind of music, because usually when you go to a church it’s one style of music. But Cecil was like, no, bring it all, bring it all.”
Almost everyone I spoke to at GLIDE, from volunteers to leadership, has music at the center of their GLIDE story. Vernon Bush says that's because singing allows people to become vulnerable.
"I've heard so many stories. 'I don't know why I was crying, I don't know why I was…' and I always tell this to the choir, it's like your individual personal experience that you are singing into that gets affected by those people who are out there. They're looking at you. They're experiencing you, some people get emotional in the choir. They're crying. Someone out in the audience will see the same thing and, you know, it's it's such a repeat story. For me, it's like, you can't be mad and sing at the same time.”
Zoe Ellis worked with Vernon as the assistant manager of the music department, and became the interim music director after he stepped down. She points to Reverend Cecil for allowing people to be grounded in a community and use music to approach spirituality.
"I feel like every time we get up with this giant band and group of singers the hope is that all these people are having this individual and collective experience. He made that really possible for a lot of people. He believed that music could open hearts."
Like the rest of the church’s services and community groups, the choir took a massive blow during the COVID pandemic. Zoe says they prioritized just meeting people’s needs. Some choir members were more at risk to the pandemic, and so they held some weekly practices over Zoom. Members with housing insecurity, or under quarantine, or having tension with other members were given attention and help.
She says those members who were steady through the pandemic have stepped up within the group, mentoring new members and continuing to pass generational knowledge. Zoe says this happened especially after Reverend Cecil died.
"And I think Cecil's passing gave them an even more intense sense of mission and purpose and ownership of that leadership. And that brings me joy like that. What gets me emotional is that that group of people genuinely know that they can lead now."
"But for me," adds Vernon, "the new era started right after or right during COVID. We knew, oh, this is going to be different."
Later on, I meet up with Freddy Martin. His job title is kind of a mouthful – Congregational Life and Community Engagement manager at GLIDE. That means he coordinates for events, fundraisers, and any needs of the congregation.
"I had to arrange for a prayer cleansing ceremony basically that we were doing in the sanctuary," Freddy says, "just to clear the space of any unclean energy, unclean spirits, and then usher in clean and healthy energy. That's basically how my day started, which was amazing because i needed that."
Just as Vernon Bush joined the choir, then slowly came back to the church, Freddy Martin is connected to GLIDE both personally, and professionally.
He works in the community — establishing GLIDE’s relationship with the Lyric Hotel SRO housing, as well as the church's involvement in the African-American reparations movement in San Francisco.
That's a lot of different projects, but all of his work is guided by a unifying principle.
"We meet everyone where they're at. We provide unconditional love and support to the best of our ability."
As Freddy says, the people who come to GLIDE have a pretty broad range of needs, because of the intense wealth disparity in San Francisco. It’s one of the wealthiest cities in the nation, yet in 2022 more than 10 percent of residents were living in poverty.
"Honestly, if your health is suffering, if your daily basic needs are not being met, it makes it so much more difficult to get anything else done, or to live happily, or to feel liberated or free."
Freddy speaks from firsthand experience. He started coming to GLIDE regularly in 2009 when he was housing insecure. He tells me he drank the coffee, ate the donuts, watched the service, and got spiritual food. With the encouragement of new friends, he got involved in the Gay/Bi Men’s Group, Bible study, the racial justice group, and more community services.
"If it had not been for the open doors and the hands reaching out to me, I don't know where I would have ended up or what I would have ended up doing. But it helped keep me safe. It helped with, like, a lifeline."
He looks back on why he volunteered in the kitchen, and his warm, friendly face, remembering the pain of that struggle, fills with emotion.
All of this behind-the-scenes work, it’s the engine for the celebratory Sunday service, the part of GLIDE most people know about. Revered Marvin K White’s sermon is a message of healing, unity, and of course, unconditional love. He shouts out a list of countries and towns the congregation comes from, from France and Switzerland to Long Beach and Truckee. He even calls out individuals' birthdays. And finally, he gives a special shout out…
"Can we give it up for the voices of this movement — the GLIDE Ensemble Choir... We’re gonna sing our way out of here."
The congregation joins in…and I’m in a sanctuary surrounded by people from all walks of life proclaiming their liberation.
Click the play button above to listen!