THE EMPTY SEAT. The empty chair stands out above all others at the table, not because we can see all the beauty of its carvings but because someone is missing.
The empty chair seems out of place because it indicates someone should’ve been there and his place was set, but he is missing.
The empty chair surely reminds us that some troublesome thing is happening; all is not well because she is missing.
The empty chair draws attention to the empty space above it because the familiar face, the words of fellowship, and the song from the lips are missing. The empty chair shows, with the glare of a spotlight, the absence of the head bowed in worship that usually is there. The audible or inaudible fragrance of prayer is not rising in that spot because someone is missing.
The empty chair means that the One in the midst of His people looks and sees a blank place where usually there is a solid wall of full fellowship because someone is missing.
Who is missing? The white-haired saint who sat there for over fifty years is now seated at a different table above, and though we miss that person, we are content that his presence in the Father’s house is far better than here with us. We are sad but content.
Who is missing? The busy servant, off on the Master’s business in some other area of the full-ripe field, is trying hard to get the harvest in before the judgment falls. We bow our heads and pray for the work in their hands, share in the labor as intercessors, and ask for God’s blessing on them, and we are glad and content.
Who is missing? The caring shepherd sitting by the side of one who is hurting because of physical pain, the loss of a loved one, or a deep longing to be in that chair but can’t. We share with that shepherd and are content.
Who is missing? The wayward soul that thinks there are things more important than heavenly manna, the Bread of God, the presence of the Lord, the use of their gift, the missing ingredient in the mixture of the body. We bow our heads and are sad and discontent as one. And then we pray, intercede, supplicate—and wonder what happened, what can we do, how can we help? Because the chair is empty!