‘Empty chairs at empty tables’

“Empty chairs at empty tables”, runs a memorable song from the musical ‘Les Miserables’, now made into a riveting film of the same name.

The song is sung by Marius as he reflects on friends who perished during an upsurge of revolutionary fervour among the thinking young men of Paris.

The song, I understand, has been somewhat adopted by Aids/HIV campaigners, as they reflect on friends who have succumbed to that disease. But the song speaks for all who lament a lost companion.

Jesus once told of a man who discovered that chairs were empty at the banquet he had planned. The Galilean was guest at a banquet, when an ill man presented himself for healing (Luke 14: 1-24).

His host, a snooty Pharisee, resented that his big occasion was thus interrupted. But Jesus defended his healing action, and attacked those who throw parties for their friends, confident that one day their friends will return the compliment.

Instead, said Jesus, real hospitality is demonstrated by inviting those who can in no way return the favour.

Jesus’ parable of the ‘Great Supper’ tells of three types of guests who, for one reason or another, allowed the hosts chairs to remain empty.

One was ruled by business, pleading “I have just bought a field, and I must go and see it” (Luke 14; 18).

Many people are busy making money day and night that they have no interest in higher things, and certainly little time for the God who invites them to the great feast of his kingdom.

A striking verse in the Book of Psalms tells of people whom God allowed to have their God-defying way; but whose souls were shrivelled as a result As ‘The Message’ puts it, “He gave them exactly what they asked for - but along with it they got an empty heart” (Psalm 106;15).

The second guest had a thirst for novelty, pleading, “I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I’m on my way to try them out” (Luke 14; 19).

Surely, he would not have made the purchase without exercising due diligence, but his obsession with a new source of interest pushed other considerations aside, and the King’s invitation was spurned.

A third guest pleaded that domestic responsibilities were more important that the king’s summons declaring,’I just got married so I can’t come (vs 20).

The law wisely exempted a newly-married man from military service for a period of one year. But no danger to life or limb was implied by the King’s invitation.

He did not wish his cosy home life to be disturbed. The king’s chairs remained empty, forcing the king to send his servants out into the byways, and bring in the needy who appreciated the King’s generosity (vs 21-224).

The Master’s parable is still relevant. Don’t, gentle reader, allow excessive business, or the thirst for novelty, or the lure of domestic tranquillity to rob you of a place at the King’s banquet.

Make sure your chair is not empty

Related topics: