The weary doctor shook his head sadly. "There isn't anything more we can do for you," he said, "You're terminal." His youthful patient was stunned. Never had he considered that it would come to this. After the gravity of his situation had sunk in, he experienced an uncanny calmness. A plan for his last days on earth began to take shape in his mind. He was a devoted "biker." He would ride his Harley Davidson on the trip of a lifetime. He would expend whatever time and health he had left by travelling the coastline from Texas all the way up along the eastern seaboard and back. Finally, having publicized and fundraised all along the route for the cause of cancer, he wearily wended his way home. However, the trip had taken the final toll on his health. Soon he was going to take his last ride, but this time in a four-wheeled vehicle to the "Garden of Memories."  At the funeral chapel, dozens of "bikers" showed up to pay their last respects to their fallen comrade. They all congregated together. At the close of the memorial service, an endless stream of bikers in black attire astride gleaming, roaring motorcycles followed the funeral coach one by one. First in order and towed by another biker was the motorcycle of the deceased but the saddle was empty. As the cortege made its way through the town, everyone felt compelled to stop and stare. Death had intervened. Such splendid machines! So many youth!  So solemn an occasion!  The earth had stopped "spinning" for a moment. It was a time for sober reflection.

 

A flag draped coffin. The thunder of the 21-gun salute. The lying in state. The precision marching of the soldier pall-bearers. These all cut an impressive profile when a President dies. But what was most touching were the empty riding-boots turned backwards in the stirrups on the late President Reagan's steed. Amidst all the pomp and ceremony, the stallion was led behind the gun carriage with the casket. And the saddle? It was empty, of course. An empty saddle evokes a tear no matter how strong the observer. Absalom was royalty. He was also a rebel. When his revolt against his father, King David, turned sour, he beat a hasty retreat on his mule. It was then that his flowing locks became entangled in overhanging branches of a tree, 2 Samuel 18:9. His mule didn't stop to investigate the sudden loss of cargo. Absalom was hanging in mid-air. Joab would bear down on him and kill him with three javelins. And the saddle on the mule? It was once again empty. Empty saddles convey a message of sorrow for both presidents and princes.

 

Burl Ives, a bearded Ballad-singer of a bygone day, used to leave a melancholy mood behind when he sang "Empty Saddles in the Old Corral." It meant a life had ended or an era was over. But sadder than all of this is the empty seat at church assemblies. Some have gone to the "Garden of Memories." Some are ill. Some are weak and frail, but where are the rest? Though our Riverside Sunday morning attendances are being well attended, what I'm referring to here is the Sunday night service and the Wednesday evening gatherings. In church bulletins, this little gimmick would often be used: "CH _ _ CH: what's missing?" Of course, it's "U R;" or, translated to English, "you are!" Church isn't church without U (you). When David determined to miss King Saul's life-threatening feast, Jonathan warned him, "You will be missed because your seat will be empty," 1 Samuel 20:18. An empty seat ("saddle").  A missing person. Thomas missed the Master and remained in unbelief when he was absent from the gathering when Jesus appeared, John 20:24-25. When we miss, like Thomas we miss a blessing. We miss snippets of knowledge that make us grow. We miss the warm fellowship. We miss an encounter with Jesus through the Word. We feel left out. We don't know what's happening. Let's not "forsake the assembly" (Hebrews 10:25). The only one who rejoices when we miss is the devil. Remember, anything that makes the devil happy is bad for you and makes Jesus sad.  May I challenge you to begin attending not only Sunday morning worship, but our Sunday and Wednesday evenings gatherings as well! When the doors open, let's make every effort to be there.

 

Love being with you all (especially at all the assemblies),

Al - ("The Horne of Africa")

 

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