Have you ever been in a room full of people and no one approached or talked to you? It can even happen at church. How did it make you feel? I have felt alone. We often quote Proverbs—you have to be friendly if you want friends. But that doesn’t go far enough. If loneliness can happen in church, we need a better solution than telling people to “find more friends.”

Loneliness is the feeling of being unknown, unseen, and unneeded. It’s the gut sense that if you weren’t there, no one would notice. Many stay busy to cover the pain. Even those with a Christian worldview can fill their schedules with volunteer work—or immerse themselves online—to feel connected. Deep down, it doesn’t satisfy. The problem isn’t activity; it’s the absence of real relationships.

We see in the beginning that God said, “Let us make man in our image.” God the Father, the Holy Spirit, and Christ the Son are one God in perfect communion. God declared, “It is not good for man to be alone.” Man was made to be in relationship with others. Sometimes we call that close relationship of thoughts, emotions, and participation together “communion,” or “fellowship,” with one another. Since we are created for communion, being lonely is out of alignment with our fundamental design.

We are by culture an independent people.  So, we would tend to conceal these deeply held feelings.   Far be it for us to be dependent on anyone. This can drive even more isolation.   Those around us in that room can see we are there, but haven’t a clue that proximity doesn’t mean we are integrated into the fellowship. People can be together but still not be seen. 

My wife and I have always been busy people. Even in retirement on “The Place,” our 25 acres, we stay involved—and we joke that the only thing we know about ‘retirement’ is the ‘tired’ part. Now in our 80s, we hear the call to walk wisely and make the most of our time. We’ve learned we can create our own isolation if we don’t make time to be with others. For us, that means putting meals on the calendar and inviting people into our home for fellowship.

Many try to substitute screen time for real involvement. Others fill their days with hobbies or volunteering. Some retirees, having lost a sense of identity after leaving work, drift into the TV and the easy chair. But loneliness is neither ‘doing nothing’ nor simply ‘filling time.’ It’s doing everything except the slow, intentional work of love—reaching out to others.

Reaching out to others requires creating ‘space’ in our schedules. We have to say no to some things so we can prioritize people. Fellowship grows as we spend time together, care for one another, and share meaningful life. Often it begins with a meal in our home with others. The New Testament calls this fellowship (Greek koinōnia)—a repeated theme throughout the New Testament. The shift is simple: stop waiting to be noticed and start making space to notice someone else.

In these later years, we know we must be very intentional. Of the gifts God has given us over the years, we have prioritized hospitality at this stage of life. Even so, other pulls still compete for our time. So, we have called neighbors and friends and put them on our calendar for simple meals in our home. The goal is not “entertainment,” but mutual sharing of our lives. A step like this can break the grip of isolation and loneliness.

Churches must look beyond small groups, greeters, and congregational meals at the building. Small groups can become exclusive and unintentionally shut out those with real needs. Greeters, though helpful, do not create presence. In any  congregation wide group setting, people naturally gather with those they already know. No program by itself will solve loneliness. This is a matter of understanding what the Christian life is, and members must internalize that intentional engagement with others is essential. That requires a transformation of the mind.

We must realize time is not our own. God has allotted our time so we can serve others with the spiritual gifts we have. It often takes little more than making space to invite someone into your home for coffee, tea, or dessert, and to share life together. Hospitality creates a space where the other person is no longer a stranger.