Melchizedek and the Wheelbarrow
- 5 hours ago
- 3 min read
I once had a young friend at church who had a strategy for handling the difficult words in the Bible when he was asked to take his turn reading aloud.
He got to 'Melchizedek,' and he said, "wheelbarrow."
Mahershalalhashbaz? "Wheelbarrow."
People let him get away with it because at least he was giving it a go.
Sometimes:
Wheelbarrow begat
Wheelbarrow begat
Wheelbarrow.
As long as it was amusing, it was still actively illustrated something we were all openly struggling with. It allowed a youth group Bible Study in 1980s Britain to function rather well, which was no mean feat.
So all in all, no harm done.
But imagine if publishers of the Bible started reprinting accessible versions where every difficult word was replaced by Wheelbarrow.
Adonijah? Wheelbarrow.
Repentance? Wheelbarrow.
Righteousness. Sanctification. Abomination. Iniquity.
Wheelbarrows.
I'm thinking now about words and meanings we rush by, making do with contemporary shorthand versions to give us the gist in terms that we can work with.
Discipline.
It starts like disciple… and ends up, in our minds, with notions of punishment.
Definitely.
Even in Proverbs 3 and Hebrews 12, when 'God disciples those he loves' I think we can sometimes wheelbarrow over the top of it: a picture of God finding it hard not to lash out, but doing it for our own good.
That leaves us with a particular echo about God that reverberates everywhere.
And may be nothing like the whole story.
Nothing like the whole story, of someone staying with you, not letting go, breaking through thresholds of separation and refusal, calling forward something you didn't know was within you.
In my book project, Stay With Me: An Adventure in Going Through It, I make the case for a different sense of that word.
Relational.
Multifaceted.
Happening over time.
Intimately bonding and loving.
Take these forms of relationship:
Midwife.
Companion.
Stranger on the side of the road with a dying person.
— Someone who stays with you during a difficult time, holding the space for you to move onward…
Boot camp instructor.
Coach.
Musical instrument teacher.
— Someone who may even seem to be making things more difficult, but all because they need you to find out what you're really made of and keep pushing through…
Parent.
Partner.
Mountain rescue.
— Each one of them presents a different dynamic: seeing where you are, and willing you forward.
Asking for the kind of trust that obeys because it leans on someone else's belief in who you are and what you're capable of.
As if your life depends on it.
Perhaps more than just your life.
And years ago when I saw the word discipline, I saw only the bad things. The hard and painful stuff.
Wheelbarrow. Let's move on.
But I'm seeing something different now, through a prolonged sense of holding on to a relationship that is holding me, even as other things fall away, and there is no other choice.
Perhaps discipline is not only about how it makes us feel in the moment.
Perhaps it has more to do with that actual relationship, and what's at stake for both involved.
Perhaps the refusal to leave off and let go is enduring love in action.
Patience with our weakness, our fear, our imposter syndrome.
Insistence on our true identity, beyond our own insistence that it's just too hard and we can't.
It would be a shame if we miss the good stuff by assuming it doesn't really matter if we can't grasp the difficult words, or think we know what they mean more or less.
What else gets carted away when we use a wheelbarrow for — Melchizedek…?
Want to say something back?
If this gets you interested, stirs up a few more ideas, seems like it needs putting straight, or raises another thing as well, I'd be glad to hear from you.
