A few years ago, members of Concord’s First Congregational Church gathered for a funeral.
There was no casket because the service wasn’t for a former congregation member.
Instead, the service was for the church’s Sunday School programming, which had been empty of children for years. Rev. Emilia Halstead said it was time for them to acknowledge the change.
Under the wide interlocking beams of the sanctuary’s ark-like ceiling, they told stories of teaching in the church’s school or being taught themselves.
It was the canary in the coal mine many churches are struggling with these days – an aging congregation with no one to replace them.
Halstead encouraged her flock to remember the good times, and release any feeling of shame or the idea that they had failed to bring new life into their church. She encouraged them to see the ending of children’s programming as a new beginning.
Now, as one of Concord’s oldest religious organizations begins the search for a new home, Halstead is determined to keep that feeling alive. She said it will take a few years to find a new home, but the congregation isn’t in a hurry.
After all, they need time to say goodbye.
“So many congregations find themselves in a similar position, not having enough funds, not having enough members, larger buildings, older buildings,” Halstead said Tuesday. “And it kind of rules over them – ‘We’re dying and we don’t know what to do about it.’ ”
“So we’re trying to create space,” she continued. “We can actually choose a lot of different things, but the most important thing is to make a choice because choosing gives life into that choice.”
Attendance at religious services has been declining across the country for years, and the Granite State is no exception. A Pew Research Center survey found that 51% of New Hampshire adult residents seldom or never attended religious services in 2014, up from 37% in 2007.
Only a quarter of residents said they regularly attended religious services in 2014, down from 39% in 2007.
The perceived importance of religion has changed as well: one-third of people said religion is “very important” to them in 2014, down from 39% from 2007. About 40% said religion was “not too important” or “not important at all,” compared to about a quarter of responses in 2007.
Stand in First Congregational’s sanctuary today, and it’s easy to see the effect that decline has had on the church. At full capacity, the pews can hold 400 – but Halstead said the congregation is down to 105 members, many of whom no longer live in the Capital City.
Most of those members are baby boomers or older, said Tim Wildman, a congregation member working with Halstead on the search a new space. He said the church has accepted its identity as an older flock.
“One of our targeted ministry groups will be people in midlife and later years,” he said. “I think we feel pretty comfortable helping people in the middle of their lives.”
At 289 years old, First Congregational is said to be the oldest congregation in Concord. Its first minister was Timothy Walker, a member of one of Concord’s earliest families.
The church has come a long way from its humble beginnings in a log cabin. Currently in its fifth home, the church has had a variety of locations, including the Binnie Media building. The current building was built in the 1930s after the previous location burned.
Three other United Church congregations have split from First Congregational, including South, East and West Congregational as well as the Immanuel Community Church on the Heights.
The Immanuel Community Church is no longer associated with United Church of Christ, and recently affiliated with the Conservative Congregational Christian Conference.
Merging with a sister church isn’t an option, Halstead said.
“There’s an innate human sense that something has been lost,” she said. “… Even though they’re trying to merge, it becomes very one-sided. Often the church that was merged stops going entirely, or goes to another church because it’s too painful. It’s a deeply human space, not a logical space.”
Wildman said it was obvious the church’s remaining members wanted to stay independent.
“There’s still a lot of energy to still be First Church,” he said.
Just as urgent was the understanding that staying in their current location will not work. Wildman said members overwhelmingly voted to sell the building.
Cost is a huge factor: Halstead said it takes $70,000 annually to provide heat, water, electricity and other staples of running a 20,000-square foot building. That’s not counting things like outside maintenance and employee salaries.
The future of the building weighs heavily on congregants’ minds. Halstead said they do not want to see the building torn down like so many other churches in the state.
Also important to the congregation is figuring out how to continue its various ministries, like the food pantry it runs three times a week and several recovery peer groups.
If possible, they’d also like to continue their Jazz Sanctuaries, an event where people can explore faith through music every third Sunday of the month.
The church shelters homeless families through its partnership with Family Promise, usually in the basement, a wide empty space with a commercial kitchen that is rarely used.
If anyone is equipped to lead First Congregational through its most recent rebirth, it’s Halstead.
In her mid-30s, she’s much younger than most of her congregants and willing to entertain ideas that never seemed possible in church culture. A member once asked – hypothetically – if chocolate chip cookies and milk could be used in Communion one service. They could, Halstead answered.
“I’m someone who when someone says ‘I want to do X,’ I say, ‘Cool, let’s make it happen,’ ” she said.
The fifth pastor in a family of ministers, Halstead is the church’s first female minister. A dragonfly tattoo on her left arm, itself a symbol of change and self-actualization, encourages people to “be present, be patient, be positive, believe.”
She’ll tell you this is just the beginning of the church’s next chapter.
“I am somebody who sees the shift in church, not just in this congregation but in church culture, as an awakening,” she said. “… People will ask me, ‘Why are you still here?’ God called me here. There’s an excitement of working around people who are ready to have the conversation of, ‘How do we do this in a way that gives us life?’ ”
(Caitlin Andrews can be reached at 369-3309, candrews@cmonitor.com or on Twitter at @ActualCAndrews.)