Empty Chairs

I recently read an article by Carrie McKean titled “I’m Estranged from My Parents. I Still Love Them.” It is a beautiful and poignant message of God’s grace in the midst of heartbreak and broken families. Two sentences resonated with me:

After ten heartbreaking Thanksgivings, here’s what I have learned: Empty chairs always take up the most space. Empty chairs always shout the loudest.

Neither Michele nor I experienced estrangement from our parents and, so far, our daughters haven’t written us off. We are a loving and close family although some physical distance separates us. But we will have some empty chairs this Thanksgiving. Our parents have passed and just this summer, we lost a nephew. One of our sons-in-law has lost both of his parents. Michele and I remember Thanksgivings in our childhood with many other relatives who have moved on from earthly existence. Each of us, at some point, will deal with empty chairs and, greater still, hearts that feel emptiness in the absence of a loved one.

How do we cope with empty chairs? We typically deal with them in the five stages of grief originally identified by Elizabeth Kubler Ross: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. The common denominator in each stage is, as she noted, grief. Whether a loss may be very fresh and we still can’t believe it happened, or we have moved into the acceptance stage perhaps years down the road, an empty chair is still an empty chair and grief is still grief.

In the book of Job, we encounter a man who lost nearly all his family, his possessions, and his health. In chapter three he states that he wished he had never been born. In verses 24 through 26 he says, “For my groaning comes at the sight of my food, and my cries pour out like water. For what I fear comes upon me, and what I dread befalls me, I am not at ease, nor am I quiet, and I am not at rest, but turmoil comes.” In very poetic language Job simply states that he is heartbroken and grieving.

Many people can quote the shortest verse in the Bible which is John 11:35: Jesus wept. What they often do not realize is that he was grieving the death of his friend Lazarus. Jesus knew He would raise Lazarus from the dead, yet he still grieved for the sorrow the family was experiencing, and for the idea of death itself, something that was never intended in the original creation.

Each of us has many reasons to be thankful, yet many of us have reasons to grieve, to feel sadness when we see the empty chair. Years ago, I was participating in a small group while on a retreat, I referred to an empty chair and said we should picture Jesus sitting there since He promised to be present when we gathered in His name. I said it half-jokingly, but it resonated with the group, and I have thought of it often since in large and small group settings, and even when I’m alone sitting in a room with an unoccupied chair. As a believer, knowing you are always in the presence of God can be intimidating but it can and should be comforting.

Grief often leads to anger. We question why things happen and, ultimately, the goodness of God. Many believers will accept the bad that happens for a short period of time, praying and trusting that God will see them through this season. But days can become weeks and weeks can become years.  We’re isolated and we lose hope that things will get better. Depression sets in. There is a new normal, a new reality, and we can choose to remain angry and bitter, or we can choose to accept life for what it is, even if the hurt does not go away this side of eternity. This is not fatalism. It is accepting God’s grace – My grace is sufficient for you. God’s grace is not an escape mechanism to get away from the pain; it is a way to cope with the pain.

Nothing I write will necessarily assuage grief, but I can point you to the one who is well acquainted with grief (Isaiah 53:3). Job cried out for God and says, “Oh that I knew where I might find Him!” (Job 23:23). God does not forsake us in our grief, but in grieving we can be numb to His presence. The Psalmist tells us in Psalm 56:8, “You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book?” God know every tear you have shed, and I believe He has shed them with you. I encourage you to read Psalm 102. It addresses anger with God directly, but also recognizes who He is and what He promises.

Whatever Thanksgiving looks like for you this year, whether there are 40 people squeezed into a home, or just you and a spouse, or you eat at a restaurant with friends, I encourage you to leave an empty chair at the table. It may bring some tears but, hopefully, it will bring precious memories as well. And remember who is present with you. I pray you have a wonderful and peaceful Thanksgiving.

Citizenship

Are you a good citizen? How do you define that? Voting? Paying taxes? Obeying laws?

Hebrews 11 is known as the “Faith Hall of Fame.” The writer of Hebrews defined faith in verse 1, then described faith initially using the lives of Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, and Sarah. Abraham was a citizen of that land of Ur, but was a stranger in a strange land seeking the country God had promised him.  Abel was one generation removed froth the Garden and his parents were literal exiles. These men and women died never fully having received the promise God made in verse 12, but they looked to the future and trusted God. Their desire was to pass through this world without taking on its character.  Psalm 84:5 tells us: “How blessed is the man whose strength in in You, in whose heart are the highways to Zion!” As believers, we have got to keep that path in mind.

These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. Hebrews 1:13-14

These folks knew they didn’t belong to the world. They were strangers and exiles here. It is as if they had a homing instinct within them – they knew they were supposed to be somewhere else. Not necessarily a land of their own, but something better that God had promised. They lived in the light of promises God had made to them; promises they knew would never be realized in their lifetimes.  We are in the same state, living with the promise of eternity.  We must trust God while walking the path on earth, knowing He will keep his promise to us.

We learn in verses 15 and 16 that this better country is a promise of Heaven. God honors the faith of the faithful and has prepared this better country for them. I wish I could describe Heaven, but I believe it is indescribable. It is sufficient to say the faithful will be in the very presence of God and experience the fullness of His love. Everything will be pure and there will be no sin and rottenness.

Philippians 3:18-19 tells us that the unfaithful (enemies of the cross of Christ) walk a path that leads to destruction, their minds set on their needs and earthly things. Paul reminds us in verse 20, “But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.”

We are citizens of earthly governments, and the Scriptures tell us we are to be good citizens, but our loyalty, our allegiance, belongs to God. I spent a great deal of time in Laredo, Texas several years ago. Laredo is a border town with Mexico. One hotel I stayed in backed up to the Rio Grande River. I saw people walking from Mexico to the US early in the day and back across in the evening. I learned that many of them held dual citizenship, and that Laredo and Nuevo Laredo (in Mexico) are almost considered one city because of the close relationships.

In a sense we are dual citizens.  There is deliberate tension in this; we live in this world while representing another. As citizens of Heaven, God expects us to have an impact on this world we live in. In Matthew 5:14-16 Jesus said, “You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden; nor does anyone light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. Let your light shine before men in such a way that they may see your good works and glorify your Father who is in heaven.” We cannot isolate ourselves from the world, but neither should we delve deeply into its mess as if this world and its politics are all that matter. We must be intentionally citizens of Heaven while simultaneously serving as citizens of the world. Your American citizenship comes with certain rights, protections, and responsibilities. Your heavenly citizenship comes with great responsibility.

Many years ago, I stood in front of a crusty Coast Guard Master Chief and said, “I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God.” Some time later, I stated very similar words as I was sworn in as an Ensign. Years before that, my father stood over me and said, “I baptize you my son in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

The oaths were important to me and governed my behavior for 25 years of my life.  But the words of my father and pastor, though not an oath, were symbolic of the promise I made to Jesus when I accepted him as my Savior, and of His promises to me.  Those words represent an eternal impact.

We live in a world of loudness, of many voices trying to drown out each other in the name of individual rights and justice, often with diametrically opposed views of what those words mean. Here are your rights:  All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; the wages of sin is death.  But here is your privilege: But the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Depending on your point of view, you are elated or discouraged by the results of yesterday’s election. Let me remind you that when you ultimately arrive in that wonderful place where your true citizenship lies, this election will be immaterial, except in ways yet unknown that bring people to Christ; and those ways will not happen on a national or international stage but through people sharing with people. I certainly encourage you to be good Americans and citizens; to be patriots.  But God commands your allegiance as citizens of His kingdom. That is a much higher calling and commitment where there is neither red nor blue but the spotless glory of a loving God.