Sacred Resistance at 225: What First Baptist Church of Norwich Teaches Us
Today I had the privilege of celebrating the 225th anniversary of First Baptist Church of Norwich, Connecticut—a community founded in 1800 that has quietly, faithfully practiced what I call sacred resistance for more than two centuries. Their story is not just a local history; it’s a living tutorial on how Christians persist in gospel-rooted courage through changing times.
Where it all began: Roger Williams and a radical idea
To understand Norwich’s witness, we go back to Roger Williams, the fiery pastor who, after banishment from Massachusetts Bay, founded Providence (1636) and helped gather the first Baptist church in America. Williams insisted that civil authority must not coerce conscience—not to protect government from religion, but to protect the purity of the church and the freedom of every soul before God. That conviction seeded Rhode Island’s experiment in religious liberty and shaped later American ideals.
From Rhode Island, Baptist faith spread along harbors and farm roads into eastern Connecticut. Early gatherings formed in places like Groton (1704/1705) and New London (1726), often facing resistance from the Standing Order (the established Congregational church). Baptists were fined, ridiculed, and sometimes dragged into court—but they kept preaching believer’s baptism, liberty of conscience, and the Lordship of Christ over every human power.
Planting in Connecticut—before disestablishment
When First Baptist Church of Norwich organized in 1800, Connecticut still effectively privileged Congregationalism; full constitutional disestablishment did not arrive until the 1818 constitution. In that in-between space, Norwich Baptists lived a countercultural normal: worship without state sanction, mission without public subsidy, conscience without coercion. That is sacred resistance in practice.
225 years of storms—and steady light
Think about what this congregation has lived through and prayed through:
The aftershocks of the American Revolution and the long struggle for full religious liberty in CT.
The Civil War and abolition; the birth of Black congregations in Norwich’s orbit by the late 19th century.
Women’s suffrage (1920) and later the Civil Rights Movement and Voting Rights Act (1965).
The Great Depression, World Wars, 9/11, the Great Recession, and the COVID-19 pandemic.
Local church milestones, including worship in the current sanctuary completed in 1882, and a continuing ministry embedded in Norwich’s civic life.
Through each era, the assignment stayed the same: bear witness to Jesus with courage and neighbor-love, even when the cultural winds made it costly or uncool. That’s the Norwich story.
What is “Sacred Resistance”?
In RESIST, I frame sacred resistance this way: *disciples choose faithful love over fearful power—especially when power asks us to forget our neighbors.*¹ Sacred resistance isn’t rage; it’s fidelity. It’s not partisan; it’s prophetic. It resists the idols of any age—nationalism, racism, mammon, apathy—by staying stubbornly loyal to Jesus’ Way.
Norwich’s 225 years illustrate at least five habits of sacred resistance:
Guard the conscience. Williams taught that coerced religion corrupts the church. Norwich embodies a Baptist instinct: free churches form free people, and free people love their neighbors without compulsion.
Stay near the margins. From early CT Baptists facing penalties to modern ministries serving vulnerable neighbors, Baptist DNA bends toward those without power. (Norwich’s wider history includes courageous Black and immigrant congregations threading the same streets.)
Name idols, not enemies. Across wars, depressions, and culture wars, the church’s task is to unmask false saviors—whether empire, ethnic supremacy, or market absolutism—while honoring the image of God in every person.
Practice stubborn hope. Surviving 225 years requires a long obedience—prayer, presence, hospitality, Scripture, singing, showing up. Sacred resistance looks like durability.
Live a public faith that serves the common good. Early Baptists sought liberty for all sects, not just their own. Norwich’s witness continues whenever Christians work for schools, public health, equitable housing, and truthful civic life.
Echoes from the “cloud of witnesses”
Two “faithful witnesses” I lift up in RESIST also resonate with Norwich’s story:
Fannie Lou Hamer—who turned Bible-rooted conscience into nonviolent organizing, reminding the nation that voting rights are an expression of neighbor-love.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer—who taught that cheap grace props up idols while costly grace follows Christ in truth, even at great risk.
A few takeaways for us—right now
Keep church free to keep the gospel pure. We honor Williams’ legacy not by fleeing public life, but by refusing to barter our soul for proximity to power.
Make space for conscience. In your small group, pew, and neighborhood, foster dialogue where people can seek Jesus honestly, without pressure—truth with tenderness.
Organize your love. Sacred resistance is personal and public: show up for your school board, food pantry, reentry program, and voter registration drive.
Sing through the storm. Churches don’t out-argue every era; they out-love and out-last it. Norwich is proof.
