“These in white robes–who are they and where did they come from?… These are they who have come out of great tribulation; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb” (Revelation 7:13-14).

“How did you get here?”

The fellow across the table from me was making polite conversation, I suppose. We were taking a break in a deacon-training event I was leading at a church in an Alabama town, nearly 300 miles from home.

“I drove,” I said, and thought, “How did he think I got here?  There is no airport within two hours.  The train comes nowhere near here.  Did he think I took the Greyhound? Or hitchhiked?”

Later, I decided he was asking the route by which I had traveled, there being four or five highways I could have taken.

“How did you get here?”

It occurs to me that when you and I get to Heaven, and begin meeting people right and left, finding out about their backgrounds and listening to their stories, no one will ask us this question. To ask how we got there would imply there are different ways to that place the Bible calls “The Father’s House.”

Let your mind dwell on that for a minute….

“I came by this religion.”  “I got here by being really good.”  “I imitated Jesus…or Mother Teresa…or my grandmother.”  “I fasted and prayed and flagellated myself.” “I lived in the desert on a diet of ants and bugs to bring my body under subjection.”  “I was sincere.” “My good works outweighed the bad.”

None of that foolishness.

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“How shall they call on Him of whom they have not heard?” (Romans 10)

During one of my first weeks in college, the upperclassmen were allowed to harass us and treat us like serfs.

That was a long time ago and I have no bad memories of the experience, so it must not have been too dangerous or humiliating.  What I do recall, however, is upperclassman Walter Maine ordering me to mop his floor.

The floors in our dormitory rooms were some kind of hard linoleum, as I remember.  These days, I could clean his floor with scarcely a thought, seeing as how I have done our kitchen floor a few hundred times.  You assemble the equipment, fill the bucket half-ful of warm water, add a little Mr.Clean, dip the mop in, squeeze it out good, and run the damp mop over the floor. Every 30 seconds or so, you return to the bucket, slosh the mop around inside, squeeze it out, mop more of the floor, and continue the process until the floor is clean. Then, toss out the water, rinse the mop with clean water, and rinse out the bucket, then store them.

Simple enough.

But not for this 18-year-old farm boy in the fall of 1958.

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