J Magazine Winter 2018

development, but it could be years away.
There also are two apartment buildings
— the Metropolitan Lofts and City Place —
and a scattering of businesses, but there is
also a lot of vacant property.
The most notable eyesore is Old
Stanton high school. The city’s original
black high school, vacant since 1971, is in
poor condition, but it is protected from
demolition by its listing on the National
Register of Historic Places. It is considered a
daunting restoration project, but then so was
the Laura Street Trio.
Other educational institutions are
nearby: LaVilla School of the Arts, the
Downtown campus of Florida State
College at Jacksonville, a barber school
and a dance studio.
Even with a strong religious and
educational presence in the Church District,
there’s really nothing there. Nothing for a
redevelopment effort to coalesce around.
Not without leadership.
Since it owns almost half of the Church
District, First Baptist is the obvious choice to
be the catalyst for redevelopment efforts. But
will it step up?
A real and
mythical power
First Baptist has a reputation as a
political powerbroker, an organization that
can make things happen — or not happen.
There’s an urban legend that First
Baptist proxies bought up liquor licenses
to keep bars and restaurants out of
Downtown. The church says it doesn’t
know anything about that, but state law
bans bars or clubs within 1,500 feet of a
church, guaranteeing that the northwest
corner of Downtown will stay dry for the
foreseeable future.
The church also has the reputation
for going its own way. When the other
Downtown congregations join forces to
host an event or speak out on an issue,
First Baptist isn’t there. When it does speak
up, it’s often against something.
One notable example is the recent
battle over passage of the Human Rights
Ordinance (HRO), which added “sexual
orientation” and “gender identity” to the
city’s anti-discrimination laws.
HRO supporters warned that defeating
the measure would have economic
implications and likened it to the civil
rights movement of an earlier era.
First Baptist’s pastor at the time, Mac
Brunson, led the opposition, campaigning
against it from the pulpit and behind
closed doors, even busing members to
City Hall for meetings. For Brunson, the
issue was simple: The Bible teaches that
homosexuality is a sin, therefore, the HRO
was an attack on Christianity itself.
After months of a long, contentious
debate and a major revision, the HRO
ordinance passed and became law in 2017
without Mayor Lenny Curry’s signature.
It’s not the first time (or the last) the
church has taken a strong public stand,
nor is it the first time it lost the fight. But
the battle highlights the waning influence
of churches in an era of changing cultural
standards.
A recent study by the Pew Research
Center found more people identify
their religious affiliation as “none” or
“done.” The reasons vary: disagreement
on religious, political and social issues,
bad experiences and a general feeling
that religion isn’t important, an attitude
common among millennials, the least
religious generation of all time.
And that is reflected in the decline
of membership and attendance of the
Downtown churches, including First
Baptist, which has seen its membership
plunge by two-thirds in the last decade.
Membership, which once numbered
WILL DICKEY
Though its beacon was turned off after
complaints from Springfield residents, First
Baptist Church still has an iconic lighthouse
at the corner of Pearl and Union streets.
WINTER 2018-19 | J MAGAZINE 67