He hit the ground running. He took the youth to Centrifuge his first week. The following week featured a mission trip to the border town of Van Horn with VBS and construction work all day, followed by worship in the evening. He was surprised to find out at the first worship service for the Spanish-language church that he was to be the preacher. He gave them a fifteen-minute message (including translation) and, on his guitar, played the one song he knew in Spanish—twice.
When Purcell arrived at Baptist Temple, he was young and still discerning the shape of his ministry. BT called him to be the full-time Youth and Activities Minister after Danny Johnson’s departure. He had been the part-time minister of youth at Dellview Baptist Church while completing his Master of Divinity at the San Antonio extension of Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary. Purcell’s early years in ministry would be shaped under the leadership of Pastor Mark Newton. “He was a great mentor to me,” Purcell said.
Purcell quickly developed an affection for the church’s south-side location and long history of community presence as he entered a congregation already navigating complex transitions—demographic, theological, and cultural. The youth group reflected those tensions. Some students came from long-established BT families, commuting from neighborhoods north and east of the city. Kids from the neighborhood were drawn by open gym nights, the promise of food, and a place to belong. But integrating students from different social worlds proved uneven. While open conflict was rare, true unity was lacking. The church could gather young people into the same room more easily than it could draw them into a shared identity. “They were rough,” he said.
At twenty-five, Purcell found himself working with young people who faced challenges and influences beyond the church environment. In one case, he recalled sensing a struggle between competing claims on a young man’s soul—between the pull of gang affiliation and the faith-based community offered by the church.
The gym continued to be one of the church’s most effective outreach tools, particularly through volleyball leagues and recreational programming that kept the campus active throughout the week. Purcell credits Cathy Peeler and her daughter, Linzi, with keeping the gym full and the leagues organized.
As meaningful as the work was, Purcell increasingly sensed a separation between his own developing convictions and the church’s institutional culture. BT, responding to broader currents within Baptist life, placed consistent emphasis on denominational identity and distinction. While Purcell affirmed those commitments, he found himself longing for a ministry less about tradition and more about the joy of the gospel. Worship services were too formal and reinforced a model of church life that seemed distant from the community the church hoped to reach.
One incident stands out. It was in the wee small hours of the morning when Purcell finished replacing the chairs used for the Fiesta Saturday Night Parade fundraiser. He went home for a nap and showed up for worship without a suit and sat with his wife rather than on the platform with the rest of the staff. “I caught so much grief for that,” he remembers.
These dynamics seemed misaligned with the immediacy of the gospel work he was encountering among students and in the surrounding community—an expression of larger questions facing the congregation. Could BT function as a neighborhood church again? Encounters with students navigating gang pressure, economic instability, and broken family systems sharpened that question.
Purcell’s time at BT was also marked by moments of deep affirmation. The Habitat for Humanity build stands out as a highlight. Working side by side with church members, sharing physical labor and common purpose, embodied the kind of communal faith he valued. The experience would shape his understanding of ministry long after he left.
In cooperation with his home church, Crossroads Baptist Church, Purcell was ordained at BT. It was an occasion made especially meaningful by his father’s public expression of pride and affection. “He's from the generation where you just don't say that out loud,” he said.
Shad Purcell remembers his time at Baptist Temple as formative rather than frustrating. The church tested his assumptions, refined his priorities, and shaped his calling. The lessons learned there, amid both affirmation and strain, would continue to shape his ministry for decades to come. Today he serves as Pastor of Discipleship and Assimilation at Alamo Community Church.
Baptist Temple was faithful to who it had been, even as younger ministers and emerging communities pressed toward what the church might yet become.
