Matthew 25:1-13

One Monday in March, Allen and I followed our usual routine: breakfast at our favorite diner. We were almost done with our meal when a gentleman sat down at the next table. he began to question Allen about his faith.

The man was well-intentioned. He asked Allen about church, the Bible, and his faith in Jesus. Allen answered each question as best he could. But when the conversation turned into a series of increasingly pointed questions, Allen became overwhelmed.

My son is on the autism spectrum. When stress rises, words become difficult. Social cues become harder to navigate.  He may start to stim, his hands flapping as he tried to control his emotions. Before long, he politely excused himself and left the table.

Later, after he had calmed down, he looked at me and asked a simple question:

“Mom, I’m going to Heaven with Dad, aren’t I?”

“Absolutely,” I replied.

Then he asked, “What was with that guy this morning?”

What was with the gentleman indeed.  The man at the diner wanted to talk about faith.

But he never really took the time to know the person sitting across from him.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus tells the parable of the ten bridesmaids. Five are prepared with extra oil for their lamps. Five are not. When the bridegroom finally arrives, the unprepared bridesmaids discover that they cannot borrow what they need from someone else.

The story ends with a sobering reminder:

“Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.” (Matthew 25:13)

This passage is often read as a warning to be ready for Christ’s return. And it is that. But readiness is about more than preparation for a future event.

It is about cultivating a relationship with Christ today.

The wise bridesmaids were not ready because of a last-minute decision. They were ready because they had prepared beforehand. They knew the Bridegroom.

A relationship with God works much the same way.

Faith cannot be borrowed from our parents, spouse, pastor, or church friends. My own call to faith was solidified when a mentor said to me, “God has no grandchildren.” Faith cannot be reduced to the right answer, the right prayer, or the right theological vocabulary. The oil in our lamps comes from the daily practices that draw us closer to Christ: prayer, worship, Scripture, service, and trust.

The same principle applies to our relationships with one another.

Meaningful relationships require time. They require listening. They require us to see the person in front of us rather than our assumptions about them.

Jesus excelled at this. He met people where they were. He slowed down long enough to hear their stories. He saw beyond appearances and into the heart.

In a world that often values efficiency over connection, we can be tempted to treat people as projects to complete rather than individuals to know. But Christian relationships are built not through quick judgments or rehearsed answers. They are built through patience, curiosity, and compassion.

The man in the diner cared about Allen’s spiritual life. Of that I have little doubt.  He had a checklist that he thought would prove Allen’s salvation.

But real ministry begins by learning someone’s name, hearing their story, and seeing them as a beloved child of God.

After all, that is exactly how Jesus approaches each of us.

This week, consider two questions:

Are you intentionally investing in your relationship with God, or are you relying on someone else’s faith to carry you?

And are you taking the time to truly know the people around you, especially those whose experiences differ from your own?

The lamps of faith are filled one day at a time. And the strongest human relationships are built the same way.

May we be people who are prepared not simply because we know about God, but because we have learned to walk closely with Him. And may that relationship teach us to see others the way Christ sees them: not as projects to fix, but as hearts to love.

Would you like to know more about Allen and life on the autism spectrum? Finding Father: A Magical Quest of Faith, Hope, and Autism is available from Amazon. You can also join my blog at Gentle Words for the Journey and fill out a Google Form for an autographed copy.