Portales church looks to offer 'hope and peace'

Phillip Smith, pastor at First Baptist Church of Portales, seems to always be solving a complex equation.

"There is a discussion going on about the possibility of switching pews to chairs," Smith said. "Aesthetics does communicate something. So do chairs communicate something different than pews? I don't know. I'm working through some of that stuff."

As Pride Month winds down, Smith is also trying to figure out how to wisely approach the topic of LGBTQ+ and Christianity as pastor in a rural, conservative-leaning congregation. Swaying too hard to either side could shutter First Baptist Church, which was established before New Mexico was a state.

"It's a really difficult line," Smith said.

By positioning FBC as an ally to the LGBTQ+ community, Smith understands he could lose some of the older, more conservative members of his congregation who fund the church. FBC operates with a roughly $460,000 budget, he said, built from member donations.

"I would imagine that 70% of that ($460,000) probably comes from the 70-plus crowd in our church," Smith said.

Though FBC isn't in immediate danger of closing, if a large number of those seniors were to leave the church, coupled with a financial blow, say a burst water pipe, FBC could join the nationwide surge of church closures.

At the same time, if Smith takes an anti-LGBTQ+ position and discourages their membership, he'd fail to uphold his own values and may contribute to the historic trend of younger generations who don't participate in organized religion.

"Typically, younger people see church as 'boring' and Christians as 'hypocrites' and 'pushing a political agenda,'" said Don Thomas, a fellow Portales pastor.

Smith said there's a "major concern" First Baptist could close "15-20 years" from now if he doesn't "reach the next generation."

Ryan Burge, a social scientist who studies the decline of religion, told Deseret.com in 2023 that "small churches often close simply because so many members have died over time."

Such declines have reached eastern New Mexico. Clovis, for example, no longer has a First Baptist Church.

"First Baptist Church was the biggest church in Clovis, and basically, what ended up happening is that it died out," said Mike Howard, a member of Portales FBC since 1997.

That's why Howard and other decision makers at Portales' FBC hired Smith in 2020 because they felt his apolitical, biblically and value-based, accepting messages could resonate with locals. Because when that older generation passes away, then who'll attend FBC?

"There are many of us that are older – I'm 71 – (and) we felt the church was headed in a direction that would not be able to sustain because of the ages," Howard said.

Founded in 1900, FBC had 600-plus attendees in the 1970s, but fewer than 150 the past three years, Smith said.

"It's a big building, but not a big church," Smith quipped.

Pastor: Messages about connecting

While Portales voters are conservative – 70% voted for Donald Trump in 2020 – research shows there's a sizable youth LGBTQ+ population. Data from the 2021 New Mexico Youth Risk and Resiliency Survey, show 26% of teens in Roosevelt County identify as LGBTQ+.

Smith said his message is less about "the political left or the political right. But the high school student at Portales High School that's trying to figure out who they are and they're struggling with anxiety and mental health – how do we connect with that student?"

Born in a middle Tennessee town that resembles Portales, Smith said he grew up Christian without a clear-cut definition of what that looked like. He also grew up with an inherent openness to all beliefs.

His childhood best friend was a Buddhist, whose family owned the town's Chinese restaurant.

After high school, he earned his bachelor's degree in Christian studies and master's in divinity. Before arriving in Portales in 2020, he was pastor in Socorro.

His office at FBC Portales features a wall-high bookcase that includes a Quran, and novels on theology and sociology. The bookcase's shelves feature a shofar (ancient musical horn used for important Jewish occasions) and several toy figurines, one of which is a Sonic the Hodgehead – a reflection of his rapid, fast-churning mind.

He pinballs from subject-to-subject, oftentimes bringing up Scripture and ideas from books he read by secular authors like New York Times Columnist David Brooks.

At the same time, he's an active listener, who's personable, confident and dispenses firm handshakes by cocking his right arm in then out.

Such friendliness is a prerequisite for the job. But some also wonder if there's an ulterior motive -- especially those from the LGBTQ+ community. After all, he's a pastor at a Baptist church.

Mik Mountjoy, a co-owner of Do Drop-in, had reservations when Smith began to frequent her coffee shop.

For Mountjoy, who identifies as queer and Christian, she was polite, but cautious, watching for signs of a "bait and switch." She wondered if Smith's reason for befriending her was to build a bond and hope one day to change her sexual orientation.

"I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop," said Mountjoy, who said she didn't feel welcome at two previous Portales churches she attended.

Mountjoy said she realized Smith's sincerity was real during Pride Month last year. After hearing the cafe was chastised by a Christian minister for openly supporting LGBTQ+, Smith came to offer support and love.

Though Mountjoy doesn't feel ready to participate in organized religion, she said she would feel comfortable attending a service at First Baptist. She's also told LGBTQ+ members that First Baptist provides a place where there's no need to be "afraid."

Conversion therapy 'scary to me'

In his interview with The News, Smith said efforts by some Christian church leaders to "pray the gay away" or practice "conversion therapy" are "horrible."

"I would never want to anyhow, anyway, get myself lumped into whatever that encampment is," Smith said. "That's scary to me."

Smith said he is not concerned about someone's identity, whether they're LGBTQ+ or a "baseball player." He also wants to preach a "biblical truth" that's non-judgmental and avoids messages centered around "going to hell."

"In a world where mental health is becoming more and more a crisis, can we (First Baptist) be a place that offers hope and peace?" Smith said.

In 2023, the topics of his sermon boiled down to five components: life giving, community, spirit-filled, Gospel-rooted and belonging. In 2024, his general message revolves around the acronym L.I.N.K. – learn to understand individuals, invite to start relationships, network to connect for stability and growth, and kindle.

Smith said his goal is finding a way to relate, connect and use the Gospel to help someone – anyone – persevere through whatever "strife" they're dealing with.

"While our church is not going to fly a rainbow flag, we are also not going to villainize anyone that does," Smith said. "Ultimately, what we want to get across is, 'Hey, whoever you are, you are made in the image of God. You bear that image, and God loves you. And so we're going to meet you and love you with that same love.'"