Although church history tells us that those who crusaded for what is right often faced persecution and martyrdom, today, in our country, most churches plod along without much opposition, except that which they tend to bring on themselves.

“The best thing [the church] can do [for members] is reach out and love one another. Sometimes that’s in tangible ways and sometimes it’s not,” said Laurie Smalley, a volunteer outreach pastor at Houghton Wesleyan Church, in Houghton, New York.

Too often it seems that churches do exactly that, reach out and love one another, while forgetting or ignoring their unfortunate neighbors. Church image can be one factor. A person driving a ten-year-old compact car will most likely feel uncomfortable driving into a parking lot full of SUVs, Hummers, and luxury cars. Someone accustomed to wearing jeans will feel uncomfortable in a sanctuary full of suits.

An informal church survey I conducted in western New York five years ago netted only one response, and that from a church 45 minutes away. When I asked about church culture, the pastor responded that most women wore dresses. Since I didn’t own a dress, I didn’t visit the church. My budget didn’t have room for a separate wardrobe just for church attendance.

Before joining the world of freelance writers, I was a pastor. My last appointment ended when gossip and rumor took over. The fallout left my family jobless, homeless, and churchless. Shortly after, my oldest daughter began planning her wedding. She wanted to be married in the church in which her beloved Steven had grown up, in the community where he had a job waiting.

Steven had been attending graduate school in another state, however, and his parents had moved away a few years before. Church policy did not allow weddings for nonmembers. Incredulous, my daughter and her fiancé explained their plight. The staff bent the rules and scheduled their wedding, for a fee of $250. I was shocked and crushed. For someone homeless just a few months earlier, that was a huge amount. Besides I had performed marriages for free and even helped clean up afterward.

Church culture and a lack of concern for community needs are just part of the problem. In many churches basic hospitality is also sadly lacking. My daughter visited an empty sanctuary last summer She and her family followed the voices till they discovered a worship service in one of the classrooms. during scheduled worship times. She heard voices, so she knew something was going on somewhere. Afterward she mentioned that it would have been helpful if a sign had been posted to show them where to go, that other visitors might not be as determined as her family had been. The norms of the regular attendees confused the newcomers – and left them feeling unwelcome in God’s house.

Many churches cannot pay their pastor a living wage, so he or she earns a living outside the church. The church doors are often locked. Nobody is left to tend the flock, welcome newcomers, meet the needs of the neighboring community, or even answer the phone – that is if the number is even listed in the phone book. Needs go unmet unless other church members step in.

For a recent article I wrote for a local paper, I obtained a mailing list of 74 churches in the county from a pastor friend. I wrote to each pastor explaining my project, an article highlighting area churches. The letter included three starter questions and requested a reply by e-mail, letter, or phone within the next week or two. Only a couple pastors called. Three letters came back because of incorrect addresses. (These churches were not listed in the phone book either.)

Needing more background than that, I phoned every church listed in the yellow pages. That netted 21 sources. Several sources remembered the letter, but had “lost” it. Some churches received neither the letter nor phone call because they are not listed in the phone book and their buildings were locked. I phoned one of the largest churches in the county at least three times. This congregation of several hundred boasts two Sunday morning services, yet not one of my calls was returned. If churches respond this way to an offer of free advertising, how would they respond to someone in despair?

When my mom was being treated for end-stage cancer, I was receiving counseling from the pastor of a church in the Midwest and frequently traveling three and one-half hours to visit Mom. During this difficult time, only the church secretary called or sent me notes. On my way to Mom’s funeral, I briefly stopped in at the church. Three or four people I met in the hallway that day told me they were sorry about Mom’s passing, yet none sent a card or flowers or phoned me.

I live alone now. Weekends seem unending. I count the hours until Monday when work demands again fill up my time. I’ve invited church women to my home or a nearby restaurant for coffee or tea, but they’re too busy with family and ministry duties to accept the invitation. Yet other folks, themselves disillusioned with the Church, but still believers, have repaired my car, loaned me money, and chatted over coffee at the nearby Mini Mart. They can’t, however, invite me to worship with them because they, too, feel like outsiders who will never have the “right” jobs, clothes, friends, homes, or family life to fit into the area churches.

“One must have people eyes to see the needs around us, families in trouble, caught in systems, not knowing they are persons of worth. We must be inclusive and understand that every person, no exceptions, is worthy of the kingdom of God....Change does not come permanently through reform but internally through voluntary conversion. We must extend ourselves to society to bring change,” says Kurt Kroninger, pastor of the Alfred Station (New York) Seventh Day Baptist Church. How are your people eyes? When was the last time you asked God to show you the needs around you? What if God answered that prayer? Is there room in your schedule – or church – for a needy neighbor?

Anieta McCracken has found a church home in Canandaigua, New York. She is a freelance writer whose work appears most often in The Patriot and Free Press, a weekly newspaper published in Cuba, New York, in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains.