Abbey Road Villa

Cleo Pierce ✟ September 8, 1913 - November 9, 2017

On November 9, 2017, our oldest church member, Cleo Pierce, passed away at the age of 104 years. Born on September 8, 1913. She grew up in the South and was the granddaughter of a freed slave. She loved the Lord and with tears in her eyes would thank us every Wednesday for bringing the church to Abbey Road. Many times over the past two years she had told us, “We really need you here.” She was our "on-site pastor" and we provided her with Bibles and study material for the Bible Study she conducted in her room. God used Miss Cleo to touch the lives of all those around her, including ours.

On the first Wednesday we were there, a woman told me, “We’ve been praying that God would send someone like you to us.” The woman has attended every service.

Jeffrey is not a Christian. He’s a Jewish man who faithfully attends the Wednesday service. He’s said several times, “I love the rock and roll church music” and he’s referring to the contemporary Christian songs about Jesus that start each service. 

We meet in the dining hall but the amplified service can be heard throughout the facility. A woman told me she that she’d been too sick to get out of bed the previous week but she could hear the worship music in her room and said that "The music lifted my spirits and I felt like I was in church."

Our Worship Service starts with a Psalm that gives praise, honor and glory to God. Pastor John sings contemporary praise songs along with the well-known Christian classics and we always sing at least one old Hymn that is familiar to the congregation. Pastor John prays and then all join in and say the Lord’s Prayer. The sermon for the day is Biblical, short, up-beat and encouraging. 

We celebrate Holy Communion on the first Sunday of every month and it is our “best attended” service. Most of the residents are Catholic and they have missed Mass. On that Sunday, the service is more “liturgical” and while we use an Episcopal service, a Catholic man recently said that it looks “Catholic” to him. But we are truly an "interdenominational" church where we reach across the aisle to hold hands with those from different denominations and Christian traditions. The Baptist and the Catholic sit right next to each other as they take Communion together. The sounds of the busy facility fade away. It is a reverent and holy time. We are no longer in an institutional dining room. We are in church.

We often end our service by singing “Day by Day.” That was a prayer from the thirteenth century that became a popular song in the sixties. It is a prayer to every day see God more clearly, love Him more dearly and follow Him more nearly. That has, in essence, become the theme song of our ministry at Abbey Road Villa and we hear people singing “Day by Day” softly to themselves long after the service is over. 

Tita, Mel and Leo pray for a resident

Every Wednesday, about thirty people are there eager for church. The administrator and the caretakers tell me this is the highlight of the week for the residents. The staff told me that residents have said that this is the happiest hour of their week. Both the residents and caretakers have told me that this church service has not just improved the quality of their life, but it has turned around the atmosphere at Abbey Road. Before we came no one talked with each other. That's not an exaggeration. Both staff and residents have told me that. But now people are spending time with each other. Reaching out to each other. They had confined themselves to their rooms and they finally met each other in church.  They are worshiping. They are hearing the word of God. They are receiving communion – the Body and Blood of our Lord, Jesus Christ. That is why God called New Hope Family Church to this ministry and we are truly blessed that He did. 

I've conducted many wedding ceremonies over the years but this was the only one that moved me and brought a touch of wetness to my own eyes. Two of the Abbey Road residents were married in May 2018 showing us all that it's never too late for God to do something new and exciting in our lives!

This is Noem. She doesn't speak or understand a word of English. She is Armenian Orthodox but a smile beams from her face as she worships right along with me every Wednesday. We don't take an offering. The residents typically have no money. But Noem always gives me something. It's a cookie wrapped in a napkin, or a saltine cracker she saved from yesterday's lunch, or maybe one of those little jam packets that came with her breakfast. At the end of the service, as it is common in her Orthodox tradition, she will always bless me with the sign of the cross and give me an "offering."