PORTSMOUTH — The Portsmouth Friends Church, the town’s oldest surviving building and one of the nation’s earliest Quaker houses of worship, marked its 325th anniversary Saturday with a gathering that mixed history, reflection, and quiet celebration.

The white clapboard church at 11 Middle Road has stood through storms, wars, near-demolition, and dwindling membership. But on Saturday it was filled with people honoring not just the longevity of the structure but the enduring ideals of the Society of Friends.

“This is by far the oldest standing building in this town,” said Town Historian Jim Garman, one of several residents who helped save the meetinghouse from sale in 2020. “325 years — that is quite a legacy for any building, much less a congregation.”

Serving as emcee, John Nutt Jr. reminded the audience that the Quakers who first worshiped here were a radical and courageous group, persecuted for beliefs that sound commonplace today.

“They saw everyone equal,” Nutt said. “That got them in a lot of trouble. They wouldn’t tip their cap. They treated Native Americans and African slaves the same as anyone else. That was not very popular in the 1600s and 1700s.”

Behind him, he noted, lay a simple graveyard and a large stone reading “In memory of Friends unknown,” marking a wide plot with no individual headstones. “Back then they were humble,” Nutt said, emphasizing the Quaker principles often summarized by the acronym SPICES: simplicity, peace, integrity, community, equality, and stewardship.

A building that almost vanished

For many, Saturday’s gathering was as much about survival as celebration. The meetinghouse faced closure in 2017 when national Quaker leadership ordered it shut down. For three years it sat vacant until a “For Sale” sign appeared, sparking alarm in town.

“There was talk of this being a gas station,” said David Chatowsky, now the church’s pastor. “What a tragedy that would have been. What we’re going through right here and right now just doesn’t happen. Churches don’t come back from that.”

Matthew Kent, who first came to the meetinghouse as a student in the 1980s, said the property was always more than just a relic. “It’s not a museum or a social hall,” he said. “It’s a church. We worship God here.”

Kent helped lead efforts to restore the building and add modest amenities, including bathrooms and an ADA ramp, without disturbing its historic façade. Volunteers repaired the structure, paid off a mortgage within five years, and reopened it in 2020. “Ohio did not own the property; we owned the property,” Kent said to applause.

Though the congregation remains small — about 15 to 20 worshipers on Sundays — the building is alive again, hosting weekly services, potluck meals, and community events.

A living history

Garman traced the meetinghouse’s past from its construction in 1700 to its role in the Revolutionary War. The Battle of Rhode Island in 1778 spilled onto Turkey Hill, just outside the building. Hessian troops occupied the structure, leaving behind cannonballs that are still displayed inside.

The meetinghouse also briefly hosted the fledgling Moses Brown School before it moved to Providence. Later, in 1887, the interior woodwork was updated, though much of the structure remains original.

Quakers’ values also left a mark. As early as 1705, the Portsmouth congregation built an addition so women could meet and vote separately, a radical gesture for its time. By 1774, members were required to free any enslaved people they held or leave the society. During the Revolution, Friends refused to fight, holding to pacifist principles even as battles raged nearby.

R.I. Sen. Linda Ujifusa, who lives in Portsmouth, said those principles still matter. The Quakers, she noted, were one of the few groups to oppose the internment of Japanese-Americans during World War II, including her own mother’s family.

“They not only spoke out against the internment, they also helped the Japanese and our families,” she said. “These stories aren’t just history lessons. They are reminders that it is possible to act on your conscience, even when you’re standing alone.”

She presented the meetinghouse with a citation from the Rhode Island Senate honoring its milestone.

A time for silence — and celebration

In Quaker tradition, moments of silence often carry as much meaning as words. At one point, Chatowsky invited the audience into stillness, observing three minutes and 25 seconds of quiet to mark each century and quarter-century the building has stood. “There is a time to be quiet and a time to speak up,” he said.

The commemoration concluded outdoors, where Kent rang a bell 10 times to signify “325” years, and a plaque was unveiled noting the building’s listing on the National Register of Historic Places. Nearby, a young maple tree was recently planted. Come autumn, Chatowsky said, its red and orange leaves will blaze like a “burning bush” atop Quaker Hill — a living reminder of the congregation’s resilience.

“This is just a building,” Chatowsky told those gathered, “but you are the church. The folks before us carried the torch for 325 years. Now, that’s our responsibility.”