What are we to make of the daredevil mentality? A Scriptural case can be made that we’re to live life to the fullest. That’s part of the abundance of which Jesus speaks. But where do we draw the line? When does pushing one’s limits cross over into something that’s unhealthy?

I’m a reticent person in any number of areas. I’m not physically adept at anything and have never excelled at sports, although I’ve enjoyed soccer and racquet sports over the years. My current favorite sport is football, at which I’m an expert spectator. No physical contact for me, thank you very much. I enjoy the game most when I’m taking it in from my recliner.

Then there are those who ride motorcycles. Why risk the extra damage if you’re involved in an accident? I spent years wanting a motorcycle when I was a young man, but now I look at bikers with some measure of skepticism. I respect their right to ride as they please, but I think they’re a bit crazy.

What about those who run marathons? Why do they push themselves so? I don’t understand it. Never have. But I admire anyone who can run 26 miles. My hat’s off to them.

Next step up on the crazy train? Parachuting. Looks cool, very exhilarating. Relatives have invited me to join them on jumps. Nope. Not a chance.

I came to all those conclusions when I was single. Maybe I was being prudent, or maybe I was just a wimp. Now that I have a wife and kids, I can’t see any way to justify optional activities that have so much potential for long-term damage.

Still, there’s part of me that wants to experience what I’m missing—the thrill of the freefall after jumping out of airplane, or the feel of the open road from the seat of a motorcycle. Even more exotic and exciting than those things are the trapeze artists and tightrope walkers at the circus, with or without a net. I watch those folks in amazement. What drives them to do what they do?

Maybe that’s why I was so fascinated by “Man on Wire,” the new documentary about Philippe Petit, a Frenchman who in 1974 orchestrated a spectacular stunt: He ran a wire between the top of the two World Trade Center towers and, in the early morning light, walked between the buildings. He and his team broke the law, then taunted the law-enforcement officers who arrived on the scene to put an end to Petit’s escapades. But the awestruck onlookers were dazzled by Petit’s audacity, and the grace of his stunt. More than 30 years later, the act is celebrated. But what, exactly, are we celebrating?

Petit recounts his own adventure. From the beginning we know he survived—he’s right there on screen to tell us about his escapades. The logistics of his team’s efforts to pull off the feat are riveting. But it’s Petit personality that proves most fascinating. What drove this man to do what he did?

We see Petit walking on a wire years earlier, rehearsing for the big event. We see footage (the film includes reenactments, and I wasn’t always sure which footage of earlier events was actual and which wasn’t) of Petit walking a wire at Notre Dame Cathedral and in Australia. High above the ground, with no net to catch him, he walks forward, then backward, then lies down on the wire! It’s breathtaking.

So, why’d he do it? He Petit says he was always obsessed with the Trade Towers, that to walk between them was his destiny. Was he afraid of dying? No! He tells us that “to die in the exercise of your passion” would make for “a beautiful death.” When he steps out onto the cable between the Trade Towers, he informs us that “something I could not resist called me up on that cable.” He knew, in that moment, that “death [was] very close.”

A girlfriend explains that Petit had “a very strict upbringing” and took “great pleasure from taking certain liberties.” But Petit can’t explain why he had to walk between the Towers. “It was magical. It was profound,” he says. “I didn’t have any ‘why.’ There is no ‘why.’” (Petit’s impulsiveness and lack of regret extend to a one-night stand that is briefly depicted—something that might put it out of bounds for viewers not interested in that behavior. It didn’t need to be shown, although it underscores Petit’s willingness to t ake chances and live in the moment.)

“Life should be lived on the edge,” Petit tells us. “Live your life on a tight rope. You have to exercise rebellion.”

Petit’s lifestyle choices weren’t always wise, but his willingness to take chances—even to the point of death—can teach us something about how to live boldly. Do we live our life of faith fearlessly? Does death frighten us? Do we rebel against a world system that seeks to keep us from pressing on toward our high calling in Christ Jesus?

These aren’t questions that “Man on Wire” is trying to raise directly. It’s not interested in a life of faith and obedience. But Christians know that we’re tested in many ways, every day. As one of my seminary professors once said, the trick of living the Christian life is finding how to live in the tension between extremes.

The kingdom of God has come, but has not yet fully arrived. We live in the world but are not of it. We walk a tightrope. And when we do it well, without tipping to one extreme or another, our lives—just like Petit’s wire walks—are beautiful to behold.