There was a time when you never had to think of the word security within a church,” said Long, a former military policeman who was wearing a pin-striped suit and black leather jacket. “There was respect – you knew that was God’s house. It’s a lot different now.”

Worried that their soft-hearted ways leave them soft targets for crime, a growing number of churches are making security a priority by hiring professional consultants, bolstering defenses such as locks and lights, or starting volunteer security teams such as St. Mark’s “Centurion Ministry.”

“We are not here to intimidate anyone, but we are here to deter the elements if need be,” said Long, who had a security badge on his jacket and a two-way radio wire trailing from an ear.

Police departments in South Hampton Roads say there has been no crime wave targeting houses of worship.

Churches are right to be security-minded, said Eric Spacek , a church risk manager for GuideOne Insurance, an Iowa-based company that insures 45,000 churches nationwide.

“Today, more than ever, churches are considered to be vulnerable,” he said. “ They’re the place where you most often find an open door and nobody around.”

Many churches now have high-priced equipment such as computers, audio and video equipment, and musical instruments such as electronic keyboards that thieves covet, he said.

Spacek said churches filed 3,200 crime-related insurance claims with GuideOne in the past two years, with theft and burglary accounting for 75 per­cent of incidents.

GuideOne also noted that the rate of crime-related claims from its church clients has remained steady even though crime in general has fallen nationally in the past 30 years. The average amount paid on such claims also has risen in the past five years, the company said.

Simeon May , who heads the National Association of Church Business Administration, said danger lurks even on Sunday, when iron-nerved thieves can be tempted by morning collections that easily reach five figures at big churches. To limit that risk, some churches hustle the offering directly to a night deposit drop and wait until Monday to count the money in the safety of the bank.

Security-consciousness isn’t confined to Christian places of worship. In the Jewish community, worries about the possibility of anti-Semitic terrorism have made many synagogues more vigilant as well.

“We definitely tightened security a lot after 9/11,” said Pam Gladstone , the executive director of Congregation Beth El in Norfolk.

Beth El hires off-duty police officers to stand guard at all worship services and gatherings. Outer doors are always locked, and admission tickets issued by the synagogue are required for high holy day events. If a disturbance breaks out in the sanctuary, Rabbi Arthur Ruberg can trip a silent alarm that summons police, Gladstone said.

All this security-mindedness has in recent years spawned a new genre in the business world: companies that specialize in safeguarding places of worship. Savior Protection in Hampton and The Commonwealth Agency in Portsmouth are among such companies locally.

At Savior, founder C. Todd Woolston , a former Norfolk International Airport police officer , offers churches services such as assessments of building security and training in how to remove hecklers from a worship service without violence.

Savior also trains volunteers to be “armorbearers ,” or personal bodyguards, for ministers. Woolston said their duties include providing physical protection and ensuring a pastor gets privacy or is guarded from temptations such as X-rated cable television during a hotel stay.

Though security concerns are found in churches big and small, location makes a difference. May said the likeliest targets are urban congregations and those near interstate highways offering crooks a quick getaway.

Pastors disagree about how many precautions are needed for churches.

At Kempsville Presbyterian Church in Virginia Beach, deacons and volunteers are expected to be watchful, but security is not part of their job description. “Our ushers would say to me, 'Nate, if you rely on us for protection, you’re in a world of hurt,’” the Rev. Nate Atwood said .

Nor does Atwood see a need for a personal guard.

“The question I ask is: Where that’s been done, has it been done because our security needs it or our ego needs it?” he said. “Everybody has to make their own call.”

At St. Mark, the Centurion Ministry was formed in 1999 after a series of break-ins, car thefts and a robbery at the church’s former location on Columbus Avenue .

Most of the group’s 25 volunteers were trained by Commonwealth. Yolyndia Henry , the ministry’s leader, is a former Portsmouth police officer.

None of the volunteers is armed; their first tactic is to calm anyone creating a disturbance.

“We try to use the least force possible,” and centurions are quick to call police for help, Henry said.

At St. Mark, worship service moved from prayer, through a rousing chorus of “Oh, What a Mighty God We Serve,” to an arm-waving, foot-stamping sermon on tithing by the Rev. Curtis E. Edmonds Sr.

In the balcony, light flashed off a brass railing and a centurion’s badge. Other guardians stood at the back of the sanctuary or prowled in the corridors outside, watchful for anyone suspiciously fidgety or inclined to wander . Deacons collected the offering, and centurions whisked it away to safety.

Having guards on duty is a source of comfort rather than trepidation for St. Mark members such as Gloria Jean Phillips .

“They just make sure we have a sense of safety while we are praising the Lord,” Phillips said.

Ending the service with a benediction, Edmonds returned to his office, where two centurions stood guard.

Edmonds said the security ministry, including “armorbearers” who escort him when he appears at public events, are a regrettable concession to St. Mark’s high-crime neighborhood and the occasional belligerents who have approached him.

“We don’t want to do this,” Edmonds said. “But this is a new day, and I think God is giving us a wake-up call to watch as well as pray.”