How did I get Here ... from There?

Harold Wilson, who was the UK's Prime Minister in the 60s and 70s, is reported as saying, "A week is a long time in politics."  Whether Wilson or not, and whatever the original context, it's an aphorism that underlines just how much can happen or a situation develop during a relatively short time.  In all our lives there are times when things are moving really fast; at such times we may snatch a breath and ask, 'How did I get here ... from there?'. 

I recently found myself in just such a situation while reading a book whose plot moved so swiftly that I had to go back and read a couple of chapters again to see just how that happened.  In real life, it might well be in the development of a new relationship, for example, but real life doesn't offer a replay, and we can only engage memory ... which could bring its own complications!

Right now, when we are in lock-down because of the spread of the coronavirus, time can be very heavy and the opportunity for reflection can cause us to look back.  We might, for example review decades of happy family life, looking over the shoulder, as it were, of a loving spouse to the barren time before you met, and wonder, 'How did I get here ... from there?'.  If you're retired, you might look back at your career and reflect how one job led to the next, or perhaps why you found yourself jumping from one situation to another so different.  Maybe a great privilege you enjoyed contrasts to a very humble beginning and you think with some amazement, 'How did I get there ... from there?'

In Biblical times, one of the lowest ranking jobs in society was that of a shepherd.  Their life tended to be nomadic, there for a few weeks and then gone without trace.  To many, that made them unreliable.  Then there was the job itself: out in all weathers, dealing with animals, the smell, the grime, deprived even of the meagre facilities that those primitive societies could offer.  A shepherd was far from the town-dweller's first choice of social acquaintance!

And yet, many shepherds would perhaps be surprised to find themselves, thousands of years later, immortalised in the reading material of religious communities.  'How did they get here ... from there?'  The prophet Amos, for example, was 'one of the shepherds of Tekoa' (Amos 1:1).  He wasn't the son of a priest or prophet, hadn't had a scholastic upbringing; he was just a common shepherd.  He lived in the time after Israel had split into two kingdoms and was sent by God to the 'other' kingdom (as if a schoolgirl were to be plucked from her Swedish home to address the United Nations!) with a message of condemnation and judgement that is still relevant today.

About three centuries earlier, David was sought out by the prophet Samuel who had been sent to anoint him.  He wasn't even considered by his father important enough to be with the rest of the family to greet the prophet (1 Sam. 16:11).  He was out looking after the sheep.  And yet he is regarded as the greatest King of Israel.  I wonder if he ever looked back to those boyhood days and asked 'How did I get here ... from there?'

And don't let's forget those shepherds 'looking after their flocks by night' who were the first to be told of the birth of the greatest Shepherd of all!

Last week would normally have been one of the busiest of the year in church circles but this year it has come, for many of us, in the midst of a time of extreme inactivity.  If you're tempted - as I have been on many occasions - to look back over your life and wonder 'How did I get there?', spare a moment to consider what the human Jesus might have been thinking in the garden before his arrest (Luke 22:39-45).  Then think of the Jesus who greeted Mary through her tears on that first Easter morning (John 20:15-16).

Somehow, however great the achievements or transitions of our lives, they pale into insignificance against the story our Saviour could tell!