The economic and prayer engine powering Valentin\u2019s ministry is an unmarked storefront where visitors enter through a back door in an industrial alley, the only door with a welcome mat.<\/p>\n
Mario\u2019s church, Ministerio a la Luz de la Palabra, is in East Compton, where the paint fades and weeds push unopposed through the sidewalks. The congregation leases, for a steal, a strip-mall theater that had all but burned to the ground before volunteers gutted it in 2008 and remade it into a house of worship.<\/p>\n
It\u2019s the sixth location in 20 years for the Assemblies of God church, common for majority-immigrant churches buffeted by Southern California\u2019s atmospheric real estate prices. \u201cWe can\u2019t keep one zip code,\u201d Mario said. By his estimate, 90 percent of his 200-member congregation is undocumented, mostly from El Salvador and Mexico. The average household income is $20,000. Four families own homes.<\/p>\n
Mario, 44, holds a doctor of ministry degree from Fuller Theological Seminary and likens his church to the church in Antioch, scattered by persecution but serving neighbors near and far. It has fueled the ministries in El Salvador while simultaneously developing local outreach efforts. The church\u2019s food bank draws a line of beneficiaries stretching down the alley every Saturday. \u201cThe weird thing is, we don\u2019t have money,\u201d he said. \u201cIf we\u2019re here, it\u2019s because the Lord opened the door for us to be here.\u201d<\/p>\n