Strange things happen on quiet nights and this is what happened to me one quiet night.
I’m in the city of Sydney on my own, hoping for a nice easy train ride and a sleep. There doesn’t seem to be anyone on the carriage. Perfect! But as I’m sitting down, it’s like Uh Oh, there’s a young bloke in the seat right across the aisle: earthy-looking and friendly enough. Yes, but I’m not in the mood for chit chat— Is that so? The question seems to come from my inner contrarian. O…kay. Better do the right thing, say something and fall asleep quickly.
‘G’day mate,’ I say.
‘What you been up to?’ he says.
‘Not much. Just talking to a bunch of young people.’
‘What about?’
‘Um… spiritual stuff, faith and all that.’
‘Christians?’
‘Uh huh.’
‘Listen buddy,’ he says. ‘I had some Christians tell me that all the good things I ever did are just shit to God.’
‘Well they’re wrong!’ I say. ‘God loves even the tiniest bit of good we do.’
‘What if you’re not a churchie; don’t do the Jesus stuff—get sent to hell ay?’
‘Oh, don’t know what to say to that mate—’ I pause for a moment, praying, and inwardly groaning at how important hell has become for so many people. ‘It’s like this mate,’ I say to him. ‘What you need to watch out for is when you see the face of Jesus and you turn your back on it.’
There we go. He’s staring at me, saying nothing. Earthy bloke is not gonna want to talk to me now and I get to go to sleep. Wait on; it’s like he’s formulating a question, like he’s puzzled.
‘So,’ he says. ‘What do you mean by that?’
‘Um, think of it this way… Imagine there’s some bloke who does lots of good stuff. Loves his wife and kids and works hard. Then one day he has a quarrel with his misses and thinks, I ought to put it right with her. But he gets in a mood and says to himself, “Nuh. I’m done! I’m outta here.” And he just leaves her, abandons the whole home and family. Right there and then, he’s seen the face of Jesus and turned his back on it.’
Wooah! The man’s face has gone pale, like I’ve never seen before. I think he’s even trembling.
‘I can’t believe you just said that,’ he says, staring at me. ‘Cause that’s what I’m doing right now.’
Something beyond this world caught the two of us in its forever-and-ever arms that night.
I remember catching a (different) train from Broken Hill. We left at 4am, you’d just finished working an all nighter at the club. Train was full of schoolies, all screaming… It was surreal. I can just imagine that conversation on one of those old trains. Thanks.
Oh. I do remember that! Yeah, I was so out of it, and we had a long way to go. Thanks Rob
What is it with you and trains. I remember in Sydney when we were returning back to where we were staying from witnessing at a cinema, Remember you had me barracade the managers office whils’t you preached from the middle of the stairs. You told a story about a drunk who got ripped off by bying a collie. He thought he was bying a dog but all he got was a cabbage. Well on the train you kept looking at this bloke. then you leaned over to him and said. Mate if you died tonight where do you reckon you would go, heaven or hell.This bloke then nearly missed his stop!!
Thanks, DaveI can see myself doing that.
I open this a week ago and only read it just now. Mmmmm food for thought. The pessimist in me say “oh great another way to let Christ down.” I’m having enough issues coping with the main ways to alienate him. It is interesting to hear your inner dialogue though to hear you just wanting go do your job “being the guy/inspiration/teacher” and then clock off from Gods work….I’m actually surprised as you never seem to have an off switch. Are you trying to break my opinion of you and say your human and have weakness like the rest of us too…I’m not being facetious but you are hard to read and don’t give much away. It’s a nice insight. Thank my great friend.
Thanks Cam. Yeah, people tell me I’m hard to read — but my wife tells me I’m a lot easier to read than I used to be: hopefully becoming more human or something—thanks to her, our children and lots of others. Also, I wasn’t trying to dispel the idea that I don’t have an ‘off button’. For me the train story was an example of a fairly common tension between my inner self’s default of avoiding people—which I try not to ‘put out there’, cause it can come across as rude. So, yeah, I think of it as a private joke between God and myself that I’ve spent so much time talking to people—and yet, left to ‘my own instinct’ would have bought a cattle station in the mountains a long time ago (and a library) and tried to build a perfect world.
The main explanation for this is in the letter of Romans:’All around us we observe a pregnant creation. The difficult times of pain throughout the world are simply birth pangs. But it’s not only around us; it’s within us. The Spirit of God is arousing us within.’ (8:22-25) So, yes, probably most days of my life, I’ve avoided letting on to others the extent of this (daily) deep sense of weakness and inadequacy because — you would know this as an athlete yourself — if you go there, you might not even get out of bed. This is where rituals help. For example, sometimes I kind of inwardly turn to God and then imagine there’s a chalk line in front of me (like on a footy field) and a whistle has been blown and I run across that chalk line; which might equate to opening the door and getting out of the car etc.