Easterhouse Baptist Church, in the east end of Glasgow, will shortly open an extension.

This runs counter to accusations that the church, with its arguments about gay priests and women bishops, is irrelevant to modern society and in numerical decline.

Easterhouse Baptist Church is not crammed to the doors yet its congregation consists of 70 east enders – a number few political

parties can attract to regular meetings. Outside of Sundays, it has a door drop-in centre, a mothers and toddlers group, and youth activities. During the summer it holds holiday clubs.

The constituency of Glasgow East contains 46 churches most of which are small but all offer something to their neighbourhood. One of my grandsons is a keen table tennis player and attends a club organised by the Rev Malcolm Cuthbertson, a qualified coach. Malcolm has been the minister at the outward looking St Peters and St Georges for over a quarter of a century.

In Scotland the Kirk is almost certainly the largest provider of youth clubs. Other services are lunch clubs, women’s meetings, cafes, and holidays for adults.

In recent years, churches have reached out to asylum seekers who have been refused asylum but are too terrified to return to their own countries. Many are destitute and churches organise day shelter, food, clothes, advice and, occasionally, accommodation. No wonder the atheist, Peter Preston, acknowledged “whenever I have visited poor places and wondered to whom the desperate turn in time of need, the finger points to the church”.

This outreach is not about Sunday attendance. Cranhill Parish Church in Greater Easterhouse has a Sunday congregation of about 30. But about 500 attend its weekday English classes, support for asylum seekers, health clinic, community cafe and so on. Glasgow Church Action calculated that, in the city as a whole, such projects attract about 2.5 million attendances a year.

The extension to Easterhouse Baptist Church will provide facilities for disabled people, a cafe, and extra space for youth activities. It cost £377,000. The largest part has come from its 70 regulars. None of the money has been in the form of statutory grants.

The upkeep of the church and much of the running of the social activities is undertaken by two paid employees and otherwise by volunteers.

Almost half of all Scottish charities are in financial difficulties and significant numbers have closed. By contrast, services provided by churches will continue precisely because they are not dependent on statutory funding. Far from being narrow and exclusive, they still exist because they are rooted in local supporters.

Does this financial independence mean that they are not interested in politics? Not if Easterhouse Baptist Church is anything to go by. One long-time member is John Mason, who won the parliamentary seat for the SNP in Glasgow East. Others are supporters of the Labour Party.

The church has many faults. At times, its followers can be so obsessed with internal conflicts, which can only put off any newcomers. Yet, Professor Richard Farrell, in his study of sustainable regeneration, found that churches often serve as group support for those who lack family and community relationships. These may include isolated pensioners, the unemployed and those with harmful addictions.

They are not treated as numbers fodder who help agencies achieve short-term targets which qualify for statutory grants.

Rather, they are accepted into a warm company which regards them as valuable in themselves not as an end to more income.

I too have found the church a kind of emotional wrapper. I have cancer, Hodgkin’s lymphoma, and am enduring eight months of chemotherapy. My friends in the church have overwhelmed me with their visits, prayers and love.

I feel part of a social collective which will not let me go.

Bob Holman is a retired professor of social policy and community worker in Easterhouse, Glasgow.