My feelings about Next City Church are complicated, and that is exactly why this review is…read moredifficult to write.
There are genuinely wonderful people in this congregation. Warm people. Loving people. People who encouraged me, welcomed me, and treated me with real kindness. I do not regret meeting them, and I will not pretend that every part of my experience was negative simply because I am disappointed now.
The church also supports missions around the world and raises money for charitable work. Pastor Dominick Cotignola has always been kind to me in person. I want to make that clear because this is not about inventing villains. It is about telling the truth, even when the truth is uncomfortable.
My problem is with the religious and organizational culture promoted by the leadership.
During my time at Next City Church, I repeatedly encountered an attitude that felt cliquish, insular, and dismissive toward anyone whose beliefs fell outside its particular evangelical framework. That included other religions, other Christian traditions, and Catholicism in particular.
I personally heard Pastor Will Urso refer to Catholics as "Pharisees."
That comment stayed with me because it revealed something deeper than a simple doctrinal disagreement. Pastor Urso has every right to disagree with Catholic teaching. What he should not expect to do without being challenged is reduce an entire Christian tradition and millions of believers to a cheap insult while acting as though his own theological circle has a monopoly on truth.
I also made two serious attempts to volunteer and become more involved in the church. I submitted two applications and followed up by email. Nobody responded. Not with a rejection. Not with an explanation. Not even with the basic courtesy of acknowledging that I had applied.
After my second email, I spoke directly with Lizzy Soto, Pastor Dom's secretary and the person responsible for coordinating volunteers. She told me that she had seen my email and had responded to it.
I had received no response, and I have no record of one.
I found that explanation insulting. At best, it reflected serious disorganization. At worst, it was an attempt to dismiss me by insisting that a response had been sent when nothing had reached me. Either way, the responsibility was shifted onto me instead of anyone simply acknowledging that my applications had gone unanswered.
Then, several weeks later, I opened Instagram and saw the church introducing its new service team with a professionally produced video montage.
The contrast was impossible to miss. The church had enough time to select a team, assemble everyone, film the footage, edit the video, publish it, and celebrate the group publicly, but apparently not enough time to provide one clear and honest answer to someone who had applied twice and asked directly for an opportunity to serve.
Silence is still an answer. So is evasion.
I understand the need for screening, references, membership, training, or recommendations when a volunteer role involves children, money, security, leadership, or other sensitive responsibilities. That is not what I object to. What I object to is an organizational culture so rigid, indifferent, or poorly managed that it could not find any ordinary, low-risk task for a willing newcomer--or even communicate with him honestly and professionally.
I had come to the church with a broken heart and a sincere desire to become involved. I was not asking for authority, status, a microphone, or a place in the spotlight. I was asking to help.
Instead, I was ignored twice, given an explanation that did not correspond with anything I had received, and later shown through a polished social-media announcement that other people had been welcomed into the very kind of service community I had tried to join.
Whether the exclusion was deliberate, careless, or simply the product of incompetence, the effect was the same: I was left outside without a credible explanation.
Here is the irony: the criticism of Catholicism did not drive me away from it. It made me curious.
I decided to investigate Catholicism for myself instead of accepting someone else's caricature. What I found was not the hollow, legalistic religion I had been warned about. I found extraordinary historical, theological, intellectual, liturgical, and spiritual depth. I found a faith rooted in centuries of serious thought, worship, sacrifice, tradition, and reflection.
I am now participating in the Order of Christian Initiation of Adults (OCIA), and I will be completely honest: my Catholic experience has been better by orders of magnitude.
The contrast is not subtle. It is enormous.
I have found richer worship, a deeper connection to Christian history, a serious sacramental life, greater room for reflection and difficult questions, and a broader ecumenical spirit. I have encountered far more willingness to recognize sincerity, truth, and human dignity beyond one narrow theological boundary.
