Darkness at Noon- Story of Rubashov

Phases of light , dimmed by the overcast glow of evening, sleepy-eyed skies that barely give enough rays to see, pleasant sublimity, I'm resting-mind and soul, aware of only that realm where God is looking upon me. As I rest, I ponder with eyelids nearly shut, the lovingkindess of God towards me repeated in Psalm 136. The piano keys of the amazing Italian musician, Ludivoci Einaudi play and I realize that the beauty of the tones are tunes that hit the very core of my being. I know that I am in God's presence and He formed the hands that play, the technology that allows me to float along with the melody, the abstractness and reality of God's presence, dictatorship over my life is good and pure. 

I've escaped into my head, my heart, and soul, where the truth abides, where God calms me, and the Spirit works in mysterious ways. I think of Rubashov and his story. The Moscow Trials that involved  N.S Rabushov. A story in the context of the government under Stalin's Communist rule, the subtle and yet drastic forces that his ideology had on the people. The story is interesting to me, melancholy but stunning to my situation in life. When reading historical fiction, I'm always blown away by the impact it has on my perception of life, my own personal circumstances. Rubashov has been repeatedly arrested for political divergencies.The story begins when he is arrested and eventually is interviewed by his once friend and now persecutor, Ivanov. Besides the specific insight that this book has into the horrors of Communism, a socialistic government that is not about the people, but falsely hopeful, and destructive beyond comprehension. Prison life is depicted, similar to that of Juan Valjuan in Les Meserables. Rows of cell rooms that contain once political leaders, intellectuals, who have conversations by tapping, coding different letters so that they can communicate the executions of their friends, once fellow citizens. 

Rubashov walks, paces for hours, day dreaming and thinking, trying to sort through his stance politically, as a member of the Party, a secret revolutionary. He writes, paces, smokes cigarettes, writes, daydreams. These prison scenes remind me of John Bunyan, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and Paul who all wrote profound words while imprisoned. 

As Ludovico Einaudi tunes my heart to abstract beauty I think of the author of the beauty and how much He loves me. What will be the tunes of heaven, of eternity when this temporary life vanishes and we are in another place? Beyond my means of fathoming. The presence of God will be fully known to us-we won't be weighed down by the oppressions of the world. 

Rubashov's heart was heavy within him, along with thousands of other imprisoned individuals who rot day upon end, packed full throughout myriads of corrupt moments in history. A history that was all about politics and not about the people. Beyond man's futile and failing efforts towards a reformed government, education, and citizen, what other hope is exists? Redeeming salvation must and is so readily found outside of all human existence, outside of our entire galaxy.

Where are you and I amid all of this? Living our lives, walkin' the walk, and knowing that the sweet, precious presence of God and His lovingkindess is hovering over us, this world is not the sublimity of eternity. I've not finished Rubashov's story yet, but I think that after the third hearing he will be executed unjustly, for standing against old friends, a corrupt government that blindly searches for truth.

The story is titled: Darkness at Noon by Arthur Koestler

My uncle says its on all the top politically conservative lists of must-read-books.  It's a good read.