Like a Train Bound for Hell

Keleti Train Station in Budapest, Hungary

Originally written in 2008, updated in 2023:

When we disembarked from our train at 9:30 pm we were tired. We’d been traveling for 9 ½ hours from Krakow, Poland, and the Keleti Train Station in Budapest was dark, cool and a bit eerie. Keleti hadn't been updated since the communist era, so it was dirty, oily, and drab in every sense of the word. Yet it is also magnificently large with 3-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’d be 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.”

“Who is God?” he said rhetorically, “I think God is in a tree, in the wind, in a stone.”

“No,” I said, “God is not who we think He is. God is who He says He is.”

“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 look for Him, believing that He exists, then you’ll find him,” I said.

“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 have been described as a sort of “atmospheric despair,” but even more eerie is the spiritual despair of mankind that runs (like the train tracks in Keleti) into the vast darkness. 

 

This man represents thousands of others like him who live apart from God, sometimes mocking, sometimes amused, but ultimately riding a train car to Hell. There are stops on that train ride--stops orchestrated by a loving God who wishes that none would perish--and we can be waiting at those stops. It's an awesome responsibility, and I pray that I never forget to go out and meet that train whenever God calls me to do so.

"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

On our trip to Krakow, we saw this statue. I'm not sure of the meaning of this statue, but I believe it's a good representation of men and women bound by the lies of Satan. It's strangely haunting to me.

 

Picture of train station: Wikimedia Commons.