The future of a 135-year-old church founded in the home of Seattle pioneers may lie with people like Paul Roby.

Roby is a middle-aged tenor who loves church music and God, lives on Seattle's Capitol Hill and is gay. So in summer of 2003, he first walked into Seattle First Baptist Church.

"I was looking for a church in my neighborhood that was fairly traditional Protestant worship and one that was gay-friendly," Roby said as he took a break from a post-service meal yesterday.

At a time when conservative evangelical churches are on the rise, a number of main-line Protestant churches are struggling with falling numbers and aging membership. But one of Seattle's oldest churches has found that an outspoken, socially progressive message is helping buck the trend by appealing to liberal Christians.

"I think the reason why mainline churches are declining is they've lost their nerve," said the Rev. Stephen Jones, the church's coordinating pastor. "We haven't."

While the church lost members after the departure in 2000 of a longtime and charismatic pastor, membership since has stabilized and is bouncing back, said Jones.

The church's progressive tradition stretches back decades. A pacifist pastor from the church protested the internment of Japanese Americans during World War II. The church in the mid-1990s tangled with a regional Baptist organization over the church's policy of welcoming gay and lesbian pastors and church members.

"We look to First Baptist Church as a leader in the progressive wing of Protestant churches here in the area," said Sanford Brown, executive director of the Church Council of Greater Seattle.

That was on display yesterday at a service marking the church's birthday.

At the pulpit, Jones called up children for a question-and-answer session about the history of the Duwamish Indians, a tribe that once occupied part of what is now Seattle. The church in the last year has been championing the tribe's campaign for federal recognition.

He delivered a sermon in part criticizing churches that claim to have a monopoly on the truth, quoting sources as divergent as German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche and former University of Washington psychologist Elizabeth Loftus.

"There is a belief that I can know what is right and wrong for me, for you and for the whole of society," Jones said.

Jones spoke beneath a cavernous dome in the church's Gothic-inspired building on Harvard Avenue, near where Capitol Hill and First Hill converge. The church had more humble beginnings, meeting for its first service on New Year's Day 1870, in the home of Edward and Abigail Hanford. The Hanfords settled in the area in 1853, two years after the Denny party became the first white settlers of what is now Seattle.

While church leaders say the church is on an upswing, it has gone through turmoil in recent years.

In 2000, the senior pastor, the Rev. Rodney Romney, stepped down, ending what several referred to as the "Romney Era." He had built a strong, loyal following with his scholarly sermons and emphasis on a message of "unconditional love," said Stan Wagner, a retired engineer and West Seattle resident who has attended the church since 1986.

With his departure, membership fell from around 1,000 to 700, said Jones, who came to the church in 2002. He is one of four pastors who are the church's spiritual leaders. Attendance at Sunday services declined from 500 or 600 to approximately 350, he said.

That kind of drop-off is not surprising with the retirement of a popular leader like Romney, said Jones.

The church has now begun to chart a course toward more social activism in the broader community. Jones also sees it becoming more tied to the surrounding neighborhood, drawing in residents from a part of Seattle known for its progressive politics.

"More and more, we're becoming a neighborhood church," Jones said.

Roby said he was attracted to First Baptist partly by the opportunities for a newcomer that accompanied the church shake up. He's joined the choir and is working to revive the tradition of "door-keepers ministry," which tries to help people who wander into the church off the street on Sunday mornings.

"It's almost as if we're building a new church that's been here for 135 years," he said.

Warren Cornwall: 206-464-2311 or wcornwall@seattletimes.com