The popular pastor

THE WORDS AND WORKS of the Rev. Alyn Waller of Enon Tabernacle Baptist Church are turning him into a major presence in Philadelphia.

Since being named pastor at Enon in 1994, he has grown his fledgling congregation of a few hundred into a mega-church with more than 7,000 members.

He's launched a number of family-based ministries, including one focused on HIV/AIDS, addressing the issue among African-Americans in a frank, open way that is rarely heard from the pulpit.

Also, he is a much sought-after speaker and revivalist who has delivered his message from South Korea to Barbados to Center City Philadelphia. He's also a singer, musician and author.

"One of the reasons he's so popular is that he's really in touch with meeting people where they are," said Deidre Anderson, a minister at the Impacting Your World Christian Center in Germantown.

"He's very community-oriented and is genuinely interested in helping people and despite his stature, he doesn't have a big head like some preachers."

That leadership style was never more apparent than at this year's Enon Bowl, a church football game played every year on the Saturday before the Super Bowl.

Teams square off based on age - over-30 versus under-30. Waller, now 42 and a former high school wrestler, was the geezers' quarterback.

His touchdown pass early in the game sparked the defense of the under-30 squad, and a few plays later they targeted Waller, their spiritual leader, slamming him to the hard, cold ground.

"Out here," said a still smiling Waller after the bone-crushing play, "there are no deacons and no ministers. Everybody is playing to win."

"This is good for the men in the church," he said.

"We have guys out here recently released from prison, and there's even one brother over there who was shot just a few weeks ago."

So bouncing back from a hard hit is more than just bravado. It is a strategic way of addressing the "cool pose" of young, urban men who follow strength and confidence more than a lecture.

"One of the things that intrigues me the most about Waller," said Corey Robinson, 28, "is that he's very much in touch with what's going on in the world and he knows how to relate to younger people."

Robinson and several of his Kappa Alpha Psi frat brothers joined Enon around the same time in 2003.

"I used to go to my parents' church, but that was because I didn't have a choice," he said.

"I consider him [Waller] a visionary because he looks at the church as something that will flourish in the long term."

There are actually two Enon Tabernacle Baptist Churches pastored by Waller.

The new, sprawling edifice on Cheltenham Avenue near Wadsworth Street in Mount Airy, which seats more than 5,000, is an impressive piece of architecture that features gently slanting angles and flat surfaces that seem to catch the Sunday morning sun.

The other church is on Coulter Street near Wayne Avenue in Germantown.

It was founded in 1876 and was the first African-American church in Germantown.

"The church should be a place where people encounter God," said Waller during a recent phone conversation just days after dropping a 25-pound weight on his left big toe, causing serious damage.

Where and how this encounter takes place is also essential to whether a person will return to church, or pay attention long enough to understand the message being preached, Waller said.

"As it relates to reaching men," he explained, "they bring a particular need in terms of the development of their own spirituality . . . but the message is often crafted in a feminine expression.

"Men need to understand what it means to be Christ-like in masculine terms.

"You need to give them room to work with the issue of masculinity."

Waller has a talent for making everyone seem special, especially those who have been the most marginalized and carry the deepest hurts.

On any given Sunday, he delivers strong, direct words about HIV/AIDS and the havoc it inflicts on the African-American community. Or he may preach a message of hope and support for those who have been sexually abused.

"We have an HIV/AIDS ministry and we're reaching out across the city," said Waller.

"This is also an important issue in the church and we need to dialogue about it . . . and it has nothing to do with liberal left or right.

"It's how we can get involved without resorting to gay-bashing or do anything the religious right are doing wrong."

AIDS testing is done at the church every month, and there are support groups for those afflicted with the disease.

As part of its HIV/AIDS Outreach Ministry, Enon hosted an all-day program at the church last week that included a free performance by actress Sheryl Lee Ralph of her one-woman play about the effect of the disease on women, from a grandmother to a homeless teen.

According to Waller, close to 1,000 people were tested that day - the most at any one time in the city - and nearly 5,000 people attended Ralph's performance.

Whether on a cold football field in January or heading the Tuesday midday service at the Arch Street United Methodist Church where the well-dressed and well-heeled come to "get their praise on," Waller's message is almost always one of activism.

"Jesus was not a pacifist," explained Waller.

"One time he ran, and one time he fought. But he was never about passivity. He was about the will of the Father and delivering the message at every level."

If the axiom is true that beside every great person is another person just as great, but not as visible, then Waller has at least two who guide his life like rudders on a ship.

His mother, Belva J. Waller, and his wife, Ellyn Jo Waller, are mentioned often in his sermons, and both are strong, independent women who speak their minds with ease and intellectual confidence.

His father, the late Rev. Alfred M. Waller Sr., was a prominent Cleveland minister who once ran for mayor there.

"He [the younger Waller] used to preach to his stuffed animals," said his mother.

"He used to line them up on the bed and preach. He's done this all his life, but I still had no idea he would be a preacher because he also liked to sing and used to say he was going to 'make more money than Michael Jackson.' "

Born and raised in Cleveland, Waller's goals apparently changed once he got to Ohio University, where he met his future wife; they've been married 18 years.

An adjunct professor at Temple University, Ellyn Waller is currently working on a doctorate in language, and is as socially aware and intense as Waller on contemporary issues like AIDS and education.

"Our conversations at home can get pretty deep," she said, "but we've also developed this ability to critique one another."

Their two daughters, Elynn, 16, and Eryka, 14, often add their mix to the conversations. Both sang with him during a recent concert at Tindley Temple United Methodist Church.

As the afternoon sun rolled over the football field, the over-30 players gave hugs and congratulations to the under-30 team which had defeated them, if not soundly, then certainly decisively.

The wind had increased, and the chill factor hovered around 11 degrees as all the players gathered around a small, bespectacled man in a brown football jersey.

Big men, old men, young men, tall men, and wounded men all put their arms around each other in a circle that seemed for that moment as strong as a fortress.

In their midst, Waller prayed. Many of the men were visibly moved, and some turned away to dab at watery eyes they would later blame on the wind. *