Still Quarrying: Ghostly Presence?

 Detective Inspector John Rebus is days away from retirement after more than thirty years as a police officer.  But rather than just seeing out his time he is under pressure to draw a line under a double murder.  It’s the run up to Christmas and as he walks through the centre of Edinburgh, his adopted city, lights are shining, the funfair is under construction, music is coming from the open–air ice rink and the inevitable shoppers are walking with purposeful tread.  What caches his eye more than anything else is the groups of young people ‘weaving their way past the shopfronts, paying him not the slightest heed.’

‘When did I become the invisible man? Rebus asked himself.  Catching his reflection in a window he saw heft and bulk.  Yet these kids teemed past as if he had no place in their version of the world. 

‘Is this how ghosts feel? He wondered.’

This is from Exit Music, Ian Rankin’s eighteenth Rebus novel.  As usual he not only weaves an intricate plot superbly but also opens the complex mind of his main character.  Along the way perhaps touching the psychology of his readers.  It’s not uncommon for us to be in a crowded room or a bustling city and to feel detached or even ignored.  Like Rebus we might wonder if this is how ghosts feel.  

Paul once found himself in one of the foremost cities of his time, Athens.  Not only a centre for government and law but known for its vast and varied cultural life.  It was where people would gather in the marketplace to debate all the latest philosophical and religious ideas. As Paul drifted through the city centre he would not be recognised but his surroundings had a strong effect on him.  We are told that ‘he was greatly distressed to see that the city was full of idols.’  (Acts 17: 16). This was obviously a religious people but wildly off the mark in Paul’s mind. 

But Paul was not content to drift through the city like a ghost.  He wangled an invitation to preach in the local synagogue and to share the revelation he had received concerning Jesus.  He also gathered a crowd in the marketplace and as a result of this he was brought to address a meeting of the Areopagus, the political and legal hub of Athens.  Paul worked hard to connect with this audience and, although he received a mixed response, some were drawn to the message.

It's a truly remarkable story when you consider not only the cultural heft of Athens but also its spiritual complexity.  It was said: ‘All the Athenians and foreigners who lived there spent their time doing nothing but talking about and listening to the latest ideas.’ (Acts 17: 21). But Paul, the wandering preacher, probably bedraggled and not particularly prepossessing, was not intimidated.  He had a message which even the sophisticated Athenians needed to hear.  And how did he get going?  By simply sharing what he was convinced was true concerning the God who created the Universe, who had revealed Himself in Jesus, and was seeking to draw all humankind to Himself through His Holy Spirit.     

Christians may feel detached even ignored because of our faith but no matter how great the challenge we can never be satisfied being like ghosts in our communities.  Jesus has called His disciples to engage with men and women, telling the story of Jesus.  This was never meant to be an option among many, something for the Athenians among us merely to kick around in debate, but a call to face the reality of Christ who is the way, the truth and the life.    

Still Quarrying: Sharing The Strength.

It wasn’t a day loaded with interest and incident.  Dropped off by my chauffeuse for an early appointment at the Beatson, a train from Hyndland to Queen Street, a wander round some shops, lunch at the Wild Olive Tree, and then the real reason for being in town: an urgently needed haircut.  What surprised me was how content I was just to drift along in this bubble, no pressure to be places or to see people.  

Contentment has been a big challenge for me over the past five years.  Time and again I have turned to Paul’s challenging words:

‘ . . . I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances . . . I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.  I can do all this through him who gives me strength.’  (Philippians 4: 11-13)

I’ve often though of this as learning to sit out the challenging things in faith, knowing that you are in good hands medically, and trusting in the unfailing love of God and His good purpose for your life whether you live or die.  

The temptation is to indulge in a kind of spiritual navel gazing.  Someone once said that when you have a toothache you are only thinking of two people: yourself and the dentist.  That’s understandable but do you really want that attitude to define your life?  Whatever you are going through you are not the centre of the Universe.  You need to work at maintaining a wider perspective.  

The challenge to be content in my circumstances is different to the Ukrainian waking up and wondering if she will have a roof over her head by the end of the day.    Or the Christian in a country where the Gospel isn’t welcome gripped with anxiety that the knock on the door means imprisonment and torture.  Or the addict whose whole being is consumed by the need for a drink or a fix or a visit to the bookie.  You can pile up the examples of those whose challenges place contentment as far away as a distant planet.  

So where does this leave me?  Maybe I can take the strength I receive as a resource to reach out to others who are struggling.  Like the man I met in the waiting place at the clinic.  He had a number of health problems even apart from his cancer and was anxious about the future.  But he told me he was grateful for the chat we had.  It was a small thing, but it underlines where all Christian spirituality should lead.  It’s not just about feeling good within yourself but being aware of others in their pain, finding room for them in our lives, giving what we ourselves have received. 

Back to Paul:

‘Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ , the Father od compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we have ourselves received from God.’  (2 Corinthians 2: 3-4)