2 of 6

"My faith outweighed the dangers," Murillo says. "We were full of faith and sold on refinancing."

At its peak, the church plant gathered a congregation of 150. Murillo has a gift for plain talk, a lot of energy, and a strong, loving wife. People from the street had their lives turned around by God. Dozens of members got steady jobs, and through church-friendly brokers, many were able to buy their first homes, some members' first steady shelter in years. Giving increased, and the Murillos were able to make the mortgage payments for their home and the rent for the church.

Soon, however, their loan adjusted and the first signs of financial stress appeared. "In June 2004, we bought our house with payments of $1,150 a month. That increased to $2,200 in 2006," Murillo says. "Still, if the income of the church had stayed the same, we would have been okay."

But many church members lost their jobs. "Three or four people lost houses. Then my neighborhood started having foreclosures every couple of houses." By Christmas 2006, Murillo was deeply worried, but he kept it to himself. "It got me to the point that I was constantly thinking, How does a pastor make a buck?"

By June 2007, the pastor was making only partial payments, below the minimum, on his house. He was able to carry on through Christmas 2007, always expecting a miracle. But by January 2008, threatening letters and phone calls started coming. Bankers were adamant that there could be no adjustment to his loan.

"I talked to the bank, which had been taken over by Wachovia," says Murillo. "They said, 'There is nothing we can do.'?"

In fact, Wachovia was hearing the same pleas from countless borrowers like Murillo. It held $122 billion in such pick-a-payment loans—about 72 percent of its residential loan portfolio. In October, the bank said it had lost $23.9 billion in three months and was projecting another $26.1 billion in mortgage-related losses in 2009. Wells Fargo, which is in the process of buying Wachovia, said it expects to lose $32 billion in pick-a-payment loans once the deal goes through.

For a while, though, the loans were lucrative. Wachovia and other banks made billions by selling the New York banks a steady stream of complex, mortgage-backed investments that were split into multiple parts and repackaged with pieces from other loans.

At the bottom of the heap, beneath all the bank mergers and mortgage portfolios, lay Pastor Murillo, who was so deep in shame over his debt that he began wondering if he should take his own life.

"I was not only endangering our house but the Lord's house, too," he said. He was struggling to come up with enough money to buy every jug of milk. When someone left groceries on the Murillo doorstep, he was overcome with gratefulness and grief.

Throughout the spring, the church's income kept plummeting. "We tried everything. We sold fireworks, cookie dough, you name it." Finally, on June 11, 2008, Murillo stumbled up the steps of the Sacramento Superior Court to turn over his keys. It was the end of his home. He prayed it would not be the end of his ministry.

Murillo prayed, "Forgive me, God, for what I have done and not done." In the spirit of Philippians 1:21 he prayed, "Let me live for Christ!" He earnestly wanted to live differently. "God, renew my mind so I will be wiser and lead my family and congregation better," he prayed.

next page... |  2 of 6

share this page

January 2009, Vol. 53, No. 1