Getting into the Wheelbarrow

The following is from the “Ragamuffin Gospel” by Brennan Manning.

“Perhaps we are all in the position of the man in Morton Kelsey’s story who came to the edge of an abyss. As he stood there, wondering what to do next, he was amazed to discover a tightrope stretched across the abyss. And slowly, surely, across the rope came an acrobat pushing before him a wheelbarrow with another performer in it. When they finally reached the safety of solid ground, the acrobat smiled at the man’s amazement. “Don’t you think I can do it again?” he asked. And the man replied, “Why yes, I certainly believe you can.”
The acrobat put his question again, and when the answer was the same, he pointed to the wheelbarrow and said, “Good! The get in and I will take you across.”

What did the traveler do? This is just the question we have to ask ourselves about Jesus Christ. Do we state our belief in Him in no uncertain terms, even in finely articulated creeds, and then refuse to get into the wheelbarrow? What we do about the lordship of Jesus is a better indication of our faith that what we think. This is what the world wants from our rhetoric, what the man of God longs for in a shepherd-someone daring enough to be different, humble enough to make mistakes, wild enough to be burned in the fire of love, real enough to make others see how phony we are.

Let the prayer of Nikos Kazantzakis arise from our hearts at a passionate pitch of loving awareness.

I am a bow on your hands, Lord.
Draw me, lest I rot.
Do not overdraw me, Lord. I shall break.
Overdraw me, Lord, who cares if I break?

Rich