Loving Boldly: When there’s nowhere else to go, the church opened its doors

By Shelby Winchell, Director of Communications | Email

Imagine having nowhere to go and then being told you can't stay where you are.

For some of the unhoused population in downtown Schenectady, this is a reality faced again and again.

The Schenectady County Public Library had become a safe place where people could gather outside to find shelter, connection, and safety. But when the library temporarily closed for cleaning, those who relied on that space were once again faced with a difficult question: Where do I go now?

For someone who already feels unwanted, another closed door can carry a painful message: There is no place for you here. But two blocks away, another door was opening.

A Place to Go

First United Methodist Church in Schenectady has long offered a free breakfast on Sunday mornings. Beginning at 8 a.m., volunteers open the doors to not only serve their neighbors, offer radically hospitality, and share God's love.  Not a single Sunday has seen fewer than 60 people served. The church quickly became a place where you could escape the cold morning air, sit, rest, and recharge. But it was more than just a gathering place. It was a place where you were loved and treated with dignity.

When the Rev. Sara Baron, pastor at First UMC, and other church leaders learned that people outside the library might suddenly have nowhere to go, they opened their doors even earlier at 7:15 a.m. It was a simple act. But it spoke volumes.

“There’s nowhere to be that people want them,” Rev. Baron explained. “My heart breaks to have people hear this message time and time again.” 

So the church is choosing a different message: You are wanted here. You are our neighbor. You are a child of God. 

"Our neighbors, as a very urban church, are the folks that don’t have homes. They live on the streets and in the parks. They are either unemployed, underemployed, or unhoused, and homeless. We have a reputation in the community for being a safe place. Folks know that regardless we will welcome them,” said First UMC member Karyn McCloskey.

That message is at the heart of what it means for First UMC to rise up and love boldly.

A Church that Refuses to Turn People Away

For First UMC, refusing to turn people away means making room, not only on Sunday mornings, but throughout the week. The church opens a room from 8:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. where people can sit, rest or sleep if needed, use the bathroom, and charge a phone. On Sundays, the doors remain open until noon, offering a place of welcome for those who may have nowhere else to go. It’s a simple but powerful reminder that even when people have been told, in one way or another, that there is no place for them, they always have a place in God’s community at First UMC.

“The Talmud says, ‘It is not your duty to finish the work, but neither are you at liberty to neglect it.’ Housing the homeless is a huge task, and if we wait until we have whole and perfect solutions, we will never begin. What's important is to begin, to do the work that presents itself to be done. Pastor Sara did two jobs that needed doing: she made sure a door was open early, and she showed up to say, simply: it's wrong to chase our neighbors away from what little shelter they're able to find under the eaves of the library,” explained Holly Loth, lay member at First UMC.  

First UMC is not a shelter, and church leaders know they cannot solve the housing crisis on their own. They dream of eventually having on-site housing, but recognize that isn't possible right now. What they can do is open a door and make room.

This is what bold love looks like.

It doesn't always look like grand gestures or sweeping solutions. Sometimes it looks like unlocking a door a little earlier. Setting out another chair. Baking and handing out cookies. Offering a place to rest, to breathe and, for a little while, to simply be. Sometimes it means standing with people who have been told time and time again that they don't belong.

“It is one of the most meaningful ministries I have ever been a part of. Caring for God’s beloved, no matter what life has brought them, is at the heart of my faith. There is so much happening in our larger society and world, and sometimes I feel like I have no way to make an immediate difference. But feeding people and sheltering them is at the core of my faith,” explained Karyn.

Seeing our Neighbors Differently

The situation in Schenectady invites a closer look at how to respond to people who are unhoused, particularly when their circumstances may make us uncomfortable or uncertain. Rev. Baron acknowledges that people may feel fear, unease, or even shame when they encounter others not like them. But, she said, “we are all under God’s wing.”  

Jesus did not call the church to love only the neighbors who have nowhere else to be. Loving neighbors means loving them without first asking whether they are convenient, comfortable, or easy to help.

Jesus called us to love our neighbors and that means loving all of them.