The Empty Season 3

I have submitted a couple of posts relating to the "emptiness" of the season; here is another:

Because the focus of our Christmas Celebrations seem to be so centered on people: get-togethers, Caroling choirs, mobs of shoppers and the like - those who are lonely may find their loneliness compounded by the season.
In this post, let's look at an article that may be present in many homes this year reflecting that poignant thought . . .  an empty chair.

The Empty Chair

Our Christmas will be a little different this year.  For the first time in a long time, we will have an empty chair at our family gathering.
For the first time, my Dad will not be there.  Now Mom has always truly been the hub of our family gatherings - she has been the memory-maker.  Always making certain that folks were fed good, felt welcomed and always supportive of anything that anyone did to contribute to the special nature of the event. 
Dad was more of a catalyst - he could make or break the event.  Most years Dad could be counted on to develop a case of the "Christmas Spirit" and do something wildly impractical.  In recent years around Christmas you would find there were talking doormats, a singing trout and a parrot that repeated everything you said. 

Dad was the leader of our family's "anything for a laugh" mentality. Sometimes he went too far - sometimes he sacrificed himself and became the butt of the joke. 

Dad made Christmas noisy and Dad made it fun.

At some point there went out a decree from Dad that every Christmas gathering would contain a reading of the Biblical Christmas account.  Sometimes Dad would read it, sometimes a grandchild - we all took our turn I think - it is always a solemn and moving time.

So Dad's presence meant that there would be some deep-seated respect and devotion for Christmas. Along with some irreverence and revelry.

We will all be very conscious of his empty chair this Christmas.

Other families will have similar voids; but death is not the only culprit.

For some divorce or separation has seeped in and left its black and icy mark on the family.

For others, duty has called away a military son or daughter, and for those families there is a sadness mixed with deep pride for their noble devotion.

Others still, are separated for reasons not so plain and clear cut:  an unforgotten wound, failures unforgiven ... for those the empty chair sits as a cold and silent reminder.

It is pure conjecture - but go with me on this:  God, the Father, understands an empty chair.

While it may be assigning Him too many human limitations -I would like to suggest that perhaps the Father once felt the sting of an empty chair when His own Son left heaven for a time.

Leaving to encounter weakness, humiliation, scarcity and a cruel and hideous death - that first Christmas must have been a sad one.  All of heaven perhaps missed His presence.

The ironic fact is that His "empty chair" would mean that His presence would soon be available to provide healing for all the empty places that filled the world:

For the wounded - His wounds would provide healing.
For the embattled - He would become the "Captain of their Salvation".
For those the unloved, He would come to bind up their broken hearts. 
For those who mourn - He would crush the power of death.

When the angel proclaimed His Christmas birth announcement, they reminded the shepherds - and today they remind us - that "good news" of "great joy", "peace" and "good will" accompany Him. 

This Christmas, if you allow Him, He will fill the empty seat at your table.