It’s late on a Sunday morning in New Canaan and over on Cherry Street, in the tiny white church at number 174, a melodious mix of repentance, revival, thanksgiving and jubilation rises from the pews as members of the Community Baptist Church carry on a tradition that has endured for generations.
With the music swelling, organist Matthew Clark swings into another hymn, taking the men’s choir with him. Swaying in unison with the beat, they harmonize, “I haven’t been to Heaven/but I’ve been told/The streets up there/they shine like gold.”
Clapping their hands and interspersing “amens,” the congregants send the refrain right back, “Jesus is a rock in a weary land/the shelter in the time of storm.”
Among the brothers and sisters in the church this sunny morning are Rob Jeffress, Marietta James, Tim Craig and Priscilla Boykin McClester, who have worshipped together here most if not all of their lives. For more than eighty years, the Community Baptist Church has been one of the most visible signs of an almost invisible demographic in New Canaan: African-Americans. According to the 2000 U.S. Census, barely 1 percent of the town’s population is black — a figure that has held rock steady for the past two centuries. And yet its history is as old and rich as the town’s, chockfull of fascinating stories, quirky characters and a sense of community that remains its bedrock today.