My mother went to be with Jesus in 2003. Following her stroke in 1999, dad devoted his life to mom’s full time care. House and yard work they once did together and the projects they’d started, went undone as Dad saw to all of Mom’s care needs. Daily he washed, clothed and fed her, lifting her several dozen times each day and night, from bedroom to bathroom, wheelchair to recliner, in and out of the car.

Rather than accept isolation, dad began taking mom out to an early supper several times a week, which was no small effort on his part. Restaurants provided them with fellowship, which was a healing balm for mom’s spirit and helped to keep her vital. However many times the wait staff came to the table, she greeted them with a cheerful “oh, Hi!” and one-armed hug. They remained with mom as long as it took for her to order, which in itself was an act of love and patience since the stroke left mom unable to speak but for a few nonsensical words. The kitchen staff even helped to care for mom, by cutting up her food, customizing meals and even came out to greet her, where more hugs were given and received.

A few days after mom passed, dad and I went to the restaurant they frequented. Once seated, one after another, the wait and kitchen staff embraced my dad and expressed their sorrow with tears and kisses. Though I was a stranger to many of them, I too was comforted with hugs and tears.

Among the many cards and letters dad received following mom’s death, were several from the restaurants they enjoyed. One in particular set me to pondering with the observation:

“Funny how a simple restaurant can make strangers feel like family.”

Indeed it felt like family. The love mom received from humble food servers and cooks helped to prolong her life and give my father a much needed break. Some even volunteered to help around the house and yard so he could focus entirely on mom’s care. They even delivered food and groceries.

If I were to describe the Church in Acts with a single word, it would be “family”. They loved to break bread from house to house, share meals together and encourage one another about the ways Jesus was working in their lives. They cared for widows and orphans and I have to believe, would have helped their brothers and sisters in Christ who faced hardships like mom and dad.

But the church of today bears little resemblance to the Church of Acts. Breaking bread is no longer a full and festive meal shared face to face as family like they did in Acts. The modern church has reduced it to a symbolic snack eaten in silence while staring at the back of someones head.

As for helping each other and sharing burdens, Dad told me about the time he wheeled mom into one of the restaurants they frequented before the stroke, past a long banquet table where two dozen members of the church they had attended sat talking while they waited for their food. Not one of them returned Dad’s smile; all turned their attention elsewhere. The pastor visited once and never called again.

Dad survived mom by 15 years, the last 4 of which Karen and I cared for him, moving in with him for the last 3 years of his life. When dad joined mom, we sorted through his things and distributed them per his wishes. In the coat closet by the front door, was a brightly colored Christmas gift bag filled with cassette tapes. I’d seen them many times in my comings and goings and thought they were self-help, motivational or lecture tapes as mom enjoyed listening to them.

Sorting through the bag after Dad’s passing, my heart sank when I realized they were tapes of the pastor’s sermons, each rubber-banded to a copy of the church bulletin. I suppose the grief of it all hit me so hard because in that moment, I realized just how alone my parents were following Mom’s stroke.

As for the tapes, that big bag of empty words, clouds without rain, faith without works? It turns out the tapes were not from the church, per se. Rather, an elderly woman who sometimes talked with Mom and Dad in the foyer after the service, collected them and brought them to Mom once a month. The last time the “friend” visited, Dad gently told her that Mom was not able to listen to them as they only confused and upset her since the stroke had affected her ability to understand all but the simplest of things.

The stroke not only paralyzed Mom on one side and robbed her of speech, she sometimes stared in confusion at her useless hand. The once she managed to ask Dad about her hand it was not to ask what happened; she wanted to know whose hand it was.

No longer a religious purpose for the visit, the pastor’s tapes of no use, the “friend” stopped coming. There were 15 tapes in the bag. In just as many weeks Mom and Dad were forgotten and left alone to manage their lot. And so of the tragedy that was Mom’s stroke, one doer of the Word emerged: my Dad. If not for the genuine love and help of the folks they knew from the restaurant, they’d have been completely isolated and on their own.

As for cleaning out the closet, well, I carted that big bag of empty to the trash bin and there I dumped it.

Churches could learn a few lessons from restaurants and humble servers, who by waiting on the needs of the hungry, help create a festive atmosphere where strangers are brought together, relationships are formed and sometimes God does a wonderful work in their midst as He did for my parents.

When the time comes for the Son’s Final Judgment, I suspect many will be shocked by whom He judges to be of sheep, or goats.

About that fast approaching day of Judgment, the Word says:

“When the Son of Man appears in his majestic glory, with all his angels by his side, he will take his seat on his throne of splendor, and all the nations will be gathered together before him. And like a shepherd who separates the sheep from the goats, he will separate all the people. The ‘sheep’ he will put on his right side and the ‘goats’ on his left. Then the King will turn to those on his right and say, ‘You have a special place in my Father’s heart. Come and experience the full inheritance of the kingdom realm that has been destined for you from before the foundation of the world! For when you saw me hungry, you fed me. When you found me thirsty, you gave me something to drink. When I had no place to stay, you invited me in, and when I was poorly clothed, you covered me. When I was sick, you tenderly cared for me, and when I was in prison you visited me.’

“Then the godly will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty and give you food and something to drink? When did we see you with no place to stay and invite you in? When did we see you poorly clothed and cover you? When did we see you sick and tenderly care for you, or in prison and visit you?’

“And the King will answer them, ‘Don’t you know? When you cared for one of the least important of these my little ones, my true brothers and sisters, you demonstrated love for me.’

“Then to those on his left the King will say, ‘Leave me! For you are under the curse of eternal fire that has been destined for the devil and all his demons. For when you saw me hungry, you refused to give me food, and when you saw me thirsty, you refused to give me something to drink. I had no place to stay, and you refused to take me in as your guest. When you saw me poorly clothed, you closed your hearts and would not cover me. When you saw that I was sick, you didn’t lift a finger to help me, and when I was imprisoned, you never came to visit me.’

“And those on his left will say, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty and not give you food and something to drink? When did we see you homeless, or poorly clothed? When did we see you sick and not help you, or in prison and not visit you?’

“Then he will answer them, ‘Don’t you know? When you refused to help one of the least important among these my little ones, my true brothers and sisters, you refused to help and honor me.’ And they will depart from his presence and go into eternal punishment. But the godly and beloved ‘sheep’ will enter into eternal bliss.” (Matthew 25:31-46 The Passion Translation)