God’s Ark of Safety at midnight. Photo by Pablo Maurer/@MLSist

God told Noah to build an ark. And years later, he told Richard Greene to do the same.

In Frostburg, Md. — 140 miles west of D.C. — Greene’s ark has been taking shape for almost 40 years. Its steel I-beams loom large over I-68, casting a skeletal shadow over the speeding cars.

The ark doesn’t keep out the rain, but Pastor Greene isn’t preparing for a flood: He’s preparing for the end of days. Greene came to coal country in 1973, leaving a well-paying job at General Motors to lead a tiny ministry in Frostburg. “God spoke to me,” Greene tells me. “He said, ‘Richard, I want you to pastor a church that’s so small they can’t afford a pastor’s salary.’”

Pastor Richard Greene and his ark. @MLSist

And he did. He trained as a missionary and became a registered nurse before taking over a tiny congregation in downtown Frostburg. He started out with $300 and 20 churchgoers.

Greene’s following soon outgrew his facility, thanks in part to a series of — as the pastor puts it — “miracles.” “One Sunday morning, when the church was full, this lady just keeled over right in the middle of the service,” he tells me. “She wasn’t breathing, and I went down to her to start resuscitation. Just as I started to hit her in the chest, the holy spirit said ‘PRAY,’ real loud in my spirit.”

Seven minutes later, he says, the woman came back to life. “When i said “Amen,” Pablo, it was like she just drifted right up in the air and came at me looking at me head on. She had the prettiest smile. She was probably about a 70-year-old lady. The people just went wild.”

Soon Greene had enough money to purchase a plot of land on the other side of town. He raised a larger church, welcomed visitors … and started seeing visions.

“While I was sleeping, I began to see a huge ark-type building on that three acres. I was seeing people come from all over the world to see it. For three months, this went on, and I would hear God say, ‘Richard, I want you to re-build Noah’s Ark as your new church. But it’s to be a sign to the world of my love and that Jesus is coming soon. I want you to warn the world.’”

There were logistical problems. Three acres was too small for Green’s church and Noah’s ark — 450 feet long, 75 feet wide and 45 feet high. So God spoke to him again: “Go ask the farmer — the guy we bought the three acres from — to give you some more land.” And he did.

“People started giving. People I’d never met in my life. They’d give a thousand, five thousand, ten thousand,” Greene said. Land was cleared, concrete began to flow, and after fifteen years of preaching his message, construction on the ark began. About one-third of the structure’s steel frame was built in the late ’80s. Those are the beams you see today.

***

Pastor Greene, now 77, retired a few years ago. Peripheral neuropathy has kept him from traveling and spreading his message the way he used to. “It hasn’t been the best retirement,” he laments, “but I’ve done plenty with my life.” His congregation is still growing, but donations have slowed. A heavy snowfall crushed the little building he raised next to the ark, and the church moved a couple of hundred yards away. What was once a Chevrolet dealership has become a place of worship; the word of God rings out in a room once filled with Luminas and Cavaliers. The ark itself hasn’t been worked on in 17 years.

“We have really had to stand on our faith,” Greene said, adding that waiting on God takes patience. “We’re talking about $50,000,000.” He shows me a scale model of the ark, with classrooms and theaters and even a gymnasium. To be honest, it’s all kind of beautiful. And there’s something endearing about a ship on a mountaintop.

Sunset. Photo by Pablo Maurer @MLSist

But not to everyone. For many, the ark is an eyesore and Greene isn’t exactly Noah. In the 1980s, he was accused of funneling money from the ark fund into a personal account and running off to California with his secretary, something he flatly denies. “There’s two things that preachers fail in: money and women. I try and stay away from both of them. I have a wonderful wife, we’ve been married 59 years. She’s as pretty as any other lady will get.”

How to write about this guy? He has the quixotic passion of the true believer — or the truly deceived. I tell him some people will take him for a loon. “You’ll write whatever you write,” Greene says to me ominously. “But you’ll pay for what you write. If you write a faithful and a true story, God will honor you. I’ve seen some drastic things happen to some of the reporters that have done this story and lied. I tried to warn them. Just write the truth.”

At sunset, I climb the snow-covered hillside to photograph the Ark. A few birds have taken up residence on its uppermost beam. It’s a start. Three of them are white, and I can’t help but chuckle at the biblical allusion. Or are they pigeons? Albinos?

The ark is an imitation, I guess, and so are the doves that call it home.

Doves? No. Albino pigeons. Photo by Pablo Maurer @MLSist