The Parable of the Bridge

It was a warm summer day as we were cruising through the Midwest on our way to the long anticipated vacation.  We had been working hard all year and we were excited about the long days at the lake swimming, fishing, and just generally relaxing.  It was midday and traffic was heavy as we headed down the interstate, but that was to be expected for this time of year.

We were approaching the new bridge which had been built several years ago.  The old bridge was still in good shape, but to use it one would have to get off of the interstate and take a longer winding road to get to it.  The new bridge was much wider and more convenient, so that is the route most people took.

As we approached the exit to the old bridge, I noticed a van stopped by the side of the road.  On the side it said “First Bapwesodist Church.”  Half of the people were still sitting in the van and the rest were outside waving at cars as they went past.  I thought it was odd that they were smiling and waving if they were broken down, so we pulled over to the side to see if we could help.

I walked up to the group and asked them if they needed any assistance.  They were all very friendly and replied that they had not broken down.  I instantly became very curious and asked why in the world they were stopped on the side of the road.  A well-dressed older gentleman answered, “We just stopped here to tell people that they should take the road to the old bridge today.”  My inquisitive side began to take over and I asked, “Why would I want to go that way?  It takes much longer and the road isn’t nearly as nice.”  

I could see the gentleman become visibly uncomfortable.  “Well…” he stammered, “You see, the bridge collapsed this morning.  You can’t really see it until it’s too late.  Most of the people are just driving off the edge into the river.”

“What!”  I could feel my jaw drop to the ground.  “Why are you just standing here waving and smiling at people?”

“Oh, we are hoping people will stop and ask us why we are being so nice and then we can tell them to take the other bridge.”

“But when I stopped, you didn’t even tell me the bridge was out!” I exclaimed.

“Of course not” he said.  “Many of the people around here are so proud of this bridge and several have spent years advocating for a new bridge, we don't want anyone to be offended by letting them know that it was poorly built and it has failed.”

Another young lady chimed in, “Yeah, and I’m a little scared that people won’t believe me anyway.  I mean, that bridge is pretty new and it is hard to believe it could be that weak.”

“But people are driving off the bridge and into the river while half of the people are just sitting in the van!”

The older man looked a little indignant at this.  “They aren’t just sitting there!  Those people are praying that the God will send out the state road crew to put up one of those signs letting people know the bridge is out.”

I couldn’t believe it!  How could they just stand there while these families were driving down the road and off the bridge?  I turned to look at the road and watched as the cars continued streaming past.  One after another after another.  What could I possibly do?  My heart was broken, but who was I to be able to do anything?

Slowly I raised my hand and began to wave…