RICHMOND, Va. — A woman of quiet faith on most days, Lucille Mills transforms each Sunday into the Rev. CeCee, a foot-stompin' minister who can match hallelujahs with the best Southern preachers.

Like black ministers across Virginia, she aims to tap the energy of her church and direct it toward worship. But she's an Evangelical Lutheran, and her tiny Chesapeake church is part of an effort to diversify the overwhelmingly white denomination, so closely identified with its German and Scandinavian roots.

Faced with shrinking membership, the denomination is changing the culture of some of its congregations to attract other ethnicities. In the case of Rejoice Lutheran Church, that means soul revivals and free car washes, urban mentoring programs and vibrant, gospel-infused services.

The denomination's goals are ambitious and there are many obstacles to overcome. Mills says most blacks tell her they're puzzled by the Lutheran tradition, and often mistake it for Roman Catholicism. Others imagine stuffy services where freewheeling praise is discouraged.

Often, she said, "they think it's inauthentic — they think it's for white people."

Among more than 4 million members, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America estimates that just 1.12 percent of its congregants were African-American as of 2005 — dismal, leaders say, considering blacks comprise over 12 percent of the American population.

Overall, membership in the Chicago-based denomination is declining. Between 2004 and 2005, the church lost another 79,000 members around the country, down to 4.85 million. To reverse the trend, leaders have created five outreach plans broken down by ethnicity: African-American, Asian, Latino, American Indian and Mideast/Arab ministries.

"All of the strategies are aimed at making the church reflective of our society," explained Everett Flanigan, who handles black outreach for the ELCA. "If American society has about 12 percent African-Americans, our goal is that the church will reflect that also."

Separately, the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod, the ELCA's conservative cousin, wants to double its modest black membership of 70,000 out of a total of 2.5 million congregants.

"It's time for us to not just be satisfied with the status quo," said the Rev. Donald Anthony, who heads black ministries for the Missouri Synod. "The other reality is that if we don't do something, we will continue to see numbers decline."

Evangelical Lutheran leaders organized Rejoice in 2001 as the denomination tried to boost its presence in Virginia's Hampton Roads area, said the Rev. Paul Gunsten, a bishop's assistant for the ELCA's Virginia Synod, or district.

Soon after, national church leaders launched a large-scale diversity effort; for 2007, the denomination has planned about two dozen minority-specific campaigns, congregations where membership is intended to come mostly from historically underrepresented ethnic groups.

Already ethnically diverse and nestled in a minority-rich area full of potential members, Rejoice seemed like a good fit for the program. The church will get funding and training in areas such as incorporating music that meshes with the spirit and culture of the worshippers.

Raised in a North Carolina Evangelical Lutheran church, Mills said she enjoyed ethnic staples like hand clapping and rhythmic preaching. She brought those things to Rejoice.

For black visitors, however, it hasn't been enough.

"They came. They said they enjoyed it," she said. "But none of them stayed."

For minorities, the church's heritage — reflected in everything from Sunday services to church dinners — can seem alien.

"We would serve the German sausages," Gunsten said. "Food, like faith understanding, like liturgical practice ... it can be perceived as a barrier."

But segregated Sunday worship may be the biggest hurdle, said Valerie Cooper, a University of Virginia professor who specializes in African-American faith. Nearly all churches in the United States serve one ethnic group.

Cooper, who is black, recalled visiting a white church in North Carolina one Easter.

"Every seat was taken — except the seat next to me," Cooper said, adding fear of similar experiences may keep blacks at historically black Baptist and other churches, popularized during slavery for their similarities to dynamic, African religious traditions.

She said Lutheran leaders will have to highlight the black churchgoers they already have — both in the pews and at the pulpit — to convince other blacks there's a place for them.

Blacks have a historically strong church involvement. Meanwhile, they're a growing presence in the suburbs, said Dave Travis, who tracks church growth trends with the Leadership Network, in Dallas. By contrast, mainline Protestant groups have been losing congregants for years.

"(Denominations) want to preserve a church in their community," Travis said. "They also recognize those neighborhoods have changed, and they may need to have pastors that reflect those new communities."

Carol Thompson-Hargro says many Lutheran churches have a long way to go.

The New York native said she spent her childhood in Lutheran churches where hers was one of the few black faces.

When she moved to Suffolk, Va., a few years back, she said white congregations didn't embrace her.

"I've kind of stood there being the new kid on the block, and maybe one person would come over and extend their hand," said Thompson-Hargro, who joined Rejoice several years ago.

There, she said, touches like a black-geared hymnal make her feel at home. And nobody's afraid to shake her hand.