Myrna Sands, a white female pastoral associate -- a minority in the congregation of low- to middle-income immigrants -- feels at home here. Though she knows only English, she travels from Fort Lauderdale occasionally to attend the Sunday Haitian service.

"I love the Haitian music," said Sands. "You may not understand the language, but you feel part of it if you know what's going on in the Mass. Mass is the language of love."

As the U.S. Census reveals we are a nation of minorities, many South Florida churches find themselves well ahead of the curve. Partly out of sheer instinct for survival, clergy are crossing barriers of race, language, sexual orientation and worship style to make their churches relevant.

It hasn't been easy. Some congregants have abandoned their churches over what they perceive as a loss of sacred tradition. Two South Florida churches are bridging the diversity gap in a team ministry experiment.

"Change is threatening to people who like things the way they were," said the Rev. William "Chip" Stokes, who is in his third year as pastor of St. Paul's Episcopal Church of Delray Beach.

Predominantly white St. Paul's and historically black St. Matthew's, less than a half-mile away from each other, are forming a fellowship alliance that is being carefully watched by the Episcopal Diocese of Southeast Florida.

Bishop Leo Frade and church clergy explained the purpose in a letter to both congregations: "America today is multicultural and pluralistic. Historically, there has been little intercourse between St. Matthew's and St. Paul's despite their close proximity and despite the fact, by virtue of their unity within one communion, we share a mission. . . . That misson stated in the Book of Common Prayer is to restore all people to unity with God and with each other in Christ."

The two churches share a common mission, but have very different styles.

On Sundays at St. Matthew's, the service is spiced with hand-clapping gospel music. Sixty members in a sanctuary a little bigger than a large living room join hands to form a chain of love before they sing The Lord's Prayer.

At St. Paul's, whose membership includes more than 1,000 members but attracts only 450 on most Sundays, the congregation recites The Lord's Prayer as harmonies of formal hymns and pipe-organ music reverberate through the English Tudor-style church. Worshipers in an adjacent parish hall watch on a wide-screen television.

But now, at least one Sunday a month, St. Paul's and St. Matthew's will try something different.

A black seminarian, Keith Johnson of Key West, to be ordained in June and sent to St. Matthew's, will serve as an associate at St. Paul's. In turn, Stokes and his new assistant, Judy Parrish, will be associates at St. Matthew's. The two congregations have been asked to visit and share each other's worship experience.

"Just coming out of seminary and having that assignment was very much a surprise to me," said Johnson. "But there is no reason why two churches in the same denomination four blocks apart should not work together."

The alliance has already influenced new thinking.

Before, "we never gave much consideration to St. Matthew's," admits Tom Davis of Boynton Beach, a member of St. Paul's since 1984. "Now we are reaching out."

Rudolph Cartwright, a longtime member of St. Matthew's, sees the partnership as way to heal racial wounds: "They say Sunday at 11 a.m. is one of the most segregated times in the country. This will make it less segregated."

SOME FEARS

But there is some concern over where this all will lead. "One of the fears is that we are going to lose our identity," said Deborah Bostwick of Delray Beach, a member of St. Matthew's since birth. In the past, St. Paul's kept St. Matthew's at arm's length, giving it "whatever financial assistance we needed in order to keep our doors open rather than having all of us worshiping together. The walls are being torn down." Still, attempts at cultural blending do not necessarily guarantee an acceptance of all things diverse.

Gender and sexuality remain controversial for many demominations.

In a victory for Catholic conservatives earlier this month, the Vatican laid down new rules that repudiate the efforts of U.S. bishops to provide female-friendly liturgical and biblical texts. The new rules, called "Authentic Liturgy," favor literal translations of the original Latin, Greek and Hebrew texts and discourage changing the word traditionally translated as "man" into "humanity" or "men and women," as is sometimes done.

In the United Methodist Church, a new hymnal has been criticized for its feminization of God. The hymnal, The Faith We Sing, includes Asian, African, Native American, Hispanic, European and African-American praise songs, and favorites that cross the racial divide such as Just A Closer Walk With Thee. One hymn in the supplement, Mothering God, You Gave Me Birth, refers to a "mothering Christ."

The Institute on Religion and Democracy, in Washington, D.C., said such descriptions are not biblical. "You don't just make up who God is. That revelation comes from the Scriptures. [And in them] God is never addressed as Mother," said Mark Tooley, director of the Institute's United Methodist Committee.

But executives at the United Methodist Publishing House, which co-sponsored the project, stand behind their use of artistic license, pointing to the "mother like" qualities of God mentioned in Scriptures like Luke 13:34, where Jesus laments over Jerusalem: "How often I wanted to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her brood under her wings. . . ."

FEMALE DEITIES

For some cultures, the notion of a female God is not a stretch. There are "significant minorities of people in South and East Asia worshiping female deities. Male deities are more widespread," said Nathan Katz, chairman of the Department of Religious Studies at Florida International University. "Whether [female and male images of God] are two sides of the same coin or a separate being is a matter for interpretation with the traditions themselves."

In a black church experiment, Overtown's Greater Bethel African Methodist Episcopal is trying to help ease the community into accepting same-sex couples as children of God. The church, which counts gay members among its flock and has an active HIV-AIDS education ministry, opens its sanctuary twice a month for a special service to welcome other South Florida gays and lesbians to Bible study and worship. Bethel's heterosexual congregants are encouraged to stay for the night fellowship.

"The invitation is always open for anyone regardless of their sexuality to attend," the Rev. Tommie Watkins said.

A little more than a handful do. One who comes is Alberta Godfrey, a grandmother and church elder who acts as a greeter. "I go because I am interested as a Christian. My job is to feed sheep," she said.

No denomination seems exempt from the reality that diverse congregations require new approaches.

The national arm of the United Methodist Church has given its Miami District $1 million for a City Ministries Initiative to increase ethnic membership. The pilot project builds new congregations by sponsoring small, home-based study groups to welcome those looking to connect with God to the church and introduce them to the denominations. With that strategy, the Miami district hopes to grow Spanish-language congregations in the living rooms of Hispanic lay leaders and then copy the process to reach Haitians, African Americans and other groups, making each feel comfortable in their own cultural domain.

"Miami is the research and development arm of the church because of its diversity," said the Rev. Clarke Campbell-Evans, Miami District superintendent of the Florida United Methodist Conference. "The challenges we are facing here are challenges that churches across the country will be facing soon -- how to reach out to the language groups that live in the neighborhood."

Presbyterian Church USA, which closed 87 churches and lost 27,000 members in 1998-99, also has launched a strategy to encourage churches in changing neighborhoods to open doors to diverse communities.

The strategy has worked its way down to Myrtle Grove Presbyterian Church, which changed from a mostly white flock, formerly known as Holy Cross Presbyterian, to a predominantly black congregation in 1990 when members of Grace Presbyterian Church of Liberty City moved into the building.

The merger was made necessary because the old Holy Cross congregation dipped to just 10 members after the closing of the Naval Air Station in Opa-locka.

At first, worship failed to reflect the change because of a reluctance to offend the remaining white members. After the merger, the pastor of both churches retired. Three different pastors came in six years. One left because of complaints that her style was too "Afrocentric."

"The people changed, but the traditions remained the same, and we became a black church that sounded very white," said the Rev. Leon Lovell-Martin, who came in 1997, and is the longest-serving black pastor since the merger.

MEMBERSHIP SWELLS

The church thought about closing four years ago as both white and black members departed. Finally, though, it added gospel to its service, a food pantry for the working poor, tutoring and mentoring programs. The membership soon swelled to more than 120.

At Miami's St. Vincent de Paul Catholic Church, members seem to appreciate the efforts to be more diverse as well. The new black Madonna from Spain, Our Lady of Monserrat, the patron saint of Catalunya, is proudly displayed inside the entrance of the sanctuary.

"Not all saints are white people with blue eyes," said the Rev. Hector Gonzalez Abreu, church pastor. "It is very popular with Latin Americans and blacks."

The Catholic Archdiocese of Miami -- where Mass is celebrated in more than 17 languages -- sent a powerful message of diversity during ordination ceremonies this month. Three seminarians were ordained: Jesús Alberto Bohórquez, who was born in Argentina to Colombian parents; Jorge L. Rodríguez de La Viuda, of Lima, Peru, who is of Latin American and Chinese descent; and Reginald Jean-Mary of Haiti, who is fluent in English and Spanish, as well as French and Creole.

But sometimes the roof has to fall in before congregations meld.

That's what happened at Fulford United Methodist Church in North Miami, which recently began offering more lively combined praise services for its traditional and contemporary congregants.

It took the caving-in of the sanctuary roof -- and a space shortage while a new sanctuary is being constructed -- to bring the church of whites, Hispanics and West Indians together to embrace each other's worship styles. "The congregation has been forced into a situation where it has to change," said the Rev. Steve Hoffman, pastor of Fulford.

Episcopal Church's Bishop Frade believes that broader acceptance of diversity will come as more minorities move into leadership positions.

Some congregations "are willing for them to show up in the pews but not share power," said Frade. "Let's start making room for our new people to have access to decision making. The only solution is to put our pride aside and work together. We must be willing to to wash the feet of anybody in the love of Christ."

That philosophy will be employed at St. Paul's and St. Matthew's where a clergy team is being developed. Both parishes will share the responsibilities of pastoral care, education, administration and community outreach.

Stokes and Johnson have years of experience dealing with the problems that can arise when different people are brought together. Stokes, who is white, had a black stepfather. Johnson, who is black, has been married to a white woman for three years.

"Racism is alive in every institution of society. There have been some in roads, but we still have a long way to go,'' said Stokes. ``We need to appreciate and celebrate the differences, not just tolerate them. I am overwhelmed by the willingness of people who want to see a new day."