“Chance Meeting” at the Train Station
When we disembarked from our train at 9:30 pm, after a nine hour trip from Krakow, Poland, we were tired. Keleti Train Station in Budapest has not been updated since the communist era, and it is dark, oily, drab and even a bit eerie at night. Yet it also is magnificently large with three story ceilings and long concrete platforms next to tracks that seem to run forever into the vast darkness of Europe.
Two English-speaking Hungarians approached us as soon as we lifted our suitcases down the metal train steps, and they asked if we were interested in a short term apartment rental in Budapest. When we told them we lived in Budapest, one of them moved on to other prospects. The other, a robust middle-aged Hungarian man in a tight leather vest with two days growth of beard and disheveled dark hair, walked with us toward the exit.
With a curious smile this man asked “What do you do in Budapest?” His English was heavily accented but surprisingly good.
“We do Christian work,” Michael answered.
The Hungarian man smiled even wider and in a mocking voice said, “OOOOOh, I’m afraid of you. Are you coming after me to try to make me a Christian? I better be careful.”
“No,” I said, “you don’t need to be afraid of us, but God is after you.” (1)
“Who is God?” he said rhetorically, “I think God is in a tree, in the wind, in a stone.”
“We cannot trust our ideas about God,” I said, “We must trust what God says about Himself.” (2)
“Then where is God? Have you met him?”
“Yes, we have,” Michael and I said in unison.
“We have a relationship with Him,” Michael added.
“Well, I don’t believe in him. I believe in myself. I have looked for him, but I have not found him. Yes, I believe in myself.”
“When you quit believing in yourself and begin believing that God exists, you will find God.” I said. (3)
“Yes?” he asked, still amused.
“We’ll pray that God reveals Himself to you,” Michael said as we headed out the huge front entrance into the city night to catch our bus.
“Don’t pray for me,” he laughed as he stood at the top of the steps, “I don’t believe in prayer.”
“But we do,” Michael said with confidence.
The eerie darkness of the Keleti train station might easily be described as a sort of “atmospheric despair,” but even more eerie is the spiritual despair of mankind that runs (like the train tracks of Keleti) into the vast darkness of Europe.
This man represents thousands of others like him who live apart from God, sometimes mocking, sometimes amused, but always ignoring the only way to be saved.
You and I will meet this man everywhere—in the train stations of Europe or the streets of Concord, NC. We may work with him or he may live next door to us. God always puts this man or woman in our path so we can offer him/her the Light of Christ.
Footnotes:
(1) “God our Savior…wants all men to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth.” 1 Tim. 2:3,42
(2) “Although they claimed to be wise, they became fools and exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images made to look like mortal man and birds and animals and reptiles.” Romans 1:22,23
(3) "...without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him." Hebrews 11:6; see also Matthew 7:7-11
We were waiting for the tram in front of the large Central Market Hall in Budapest. Michael and I had been talking in English when a young woman next to us tapped us on the shoulder.
“Oh, you’re Americans!” she said excitedly, “Where are you from?”
“We’re originally from Colorado,” we explained, “but we live in Budapest doing Christian work.”
“Oh!” she continued, “I just got here to study for a few semesters. I’m studying at the Central European University.”
As she was saying this, tram 49 rolled up in front of us.
“This is our tram,” I explained as Michael and I hopped on board and waved good-bye to her.
“It was nice talking to an American,” she said waving.
As soon as we crossed the river, it struck me. We weren’t hurrying to anything important. We were just heading home. We could have missed that tram and visited with that young woman for another five minutes. Maybe we could have invited her to our small group. We had two other students in our small group at the time. Maybe we could even have asked her to get a coke with us at the Burger King across from the Central Market.
Why hadn’t we? We were so caught up in the routine of life, that we hadn’t noticed this divine appointment! Not only was I sorry we’d let God down; I was sorry for the opportunity we had missed!
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