Carrying Baggage Through The Eye Of A Needle


The rich man arrived at the gates of Heaven with bags piled high –  slung over his shoulders, clasped in his fists, dragged along on wheels.  It was expensive, exclusive luggage made from the finest leather.  “I need some help here,” he griped but no porters came running, though he had a generous tip ready.

“What’s with the baggage?” the Apostle asked.

“These are my essentials, all I could carry. Can I go back for the rest?”

Peter stepped aside and showed the man the narrow gateway that led to the afterlife. “Take only what you can bear in one go. Nothing more.”

The rich man picked up his bags, determined to leave nothing behind – but the threshold wasn’t wide enough for his stout frame, never mind his belongings too. “Is there no other doorway?” he demanded.

“There’s one over there,” the Apostle said, pointing to a wide, generous entryway with fancy columns, “but…”

“That’s more like it. You should have said. Damned fool,” the rich man blustered. He scurried over, strode proudly between the wide pillars and set his luggage down on the escalator. “Much better. No more walking,” the rich man said, as he began his descent.

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