The Parable of the Old Bridge

One day while teaching, Josh was asked, ”Teacher, does it matter if the grass is greener on the other side if they won’t let us to the other side?”

Josh spoke thus:

A traveler was attempting to cross a river.

“All I want to do is cross the river,” the traveler said to a fellow traveler.

“We all want to cross the river,” a fellow traveler said.

The two travelers looked at the only bridge across the river.  It was a rope bridge, with wooden slats to step on and rope lines to hold onto.  The wooden slats were old and looked rotten and worn and ready to snap.  The rope was old and looked rotten and worn and ready to snap.  The river below was deep and cold and swift.

“Why are you crossing the bridge?” the traveler asked the fellow traveler.

“I hope to find work in the village on the opposite side,” the fellow traveler said, “Why are you crossing the bridge?”

“I hope to find work in the village on the opposite side,” the traveler said, “What is it you do?”

  “I hope to be a cobbler,” the fellow traveler said, “What is it you do?”

“I hope to be a cobbler,” the traveler said.

The traveler and the fellow traveler looked at each other.  The traveler and the fellow traveler looked at the bridge.

“How many cobblers do you think they need?” the traveler asked the fellow traveler.

“How many cobblers do you think they need?” the fellow traveler asked the traveler.

The traveler and the fellow traveler looked at the bridge again.  The wooden slats were old and looked rotten and worn and ready to snap.  The rope was old and looked rotten and worn and ready to snap.  The river below was deep and cold and swift.

“Why don’t you go first?” the traveler said to the fellow traveler.  The traveler looked up river for a ferry that might take the traveler across the river.

“I insist you go first,” the fellow traveler said.  The fellow traveler looked down river for a ferry that might take the traveler across the river.

Before the traveler could reply, a traveler on the opposite side of the river stepped onto the bridge.  The bridge swayed, the wooden slats bowed deeply, the ropes creaked.  To a greater degree than earlier, the wooden slats looked old and rotten and worn and ready to snap.  To a greater degree than earlier, the rope looked old and rotten and worn and ready to snap.  The traveler from the opposite side of the river edged across the river.  The ropes creaked and the wooden slats bowed deeply, but the traveler from the opposite side of the river gained the near side of the river and stood before the traveler and the fellow traveler.

“Greetings, fellow travelers!” the traveler from the opposite side of the river said, “Would either of you know where a cobbler might find some work?”

The traveler and the fellow traveler looked at each other.  The traveler and the fellow traveler looked at the traveler from the opposite side of the river.  The traveler and the fellow traveler looked at the bridge.

“Follow us,” the traveler said, and the traveler and the fellow traveler stepped out onto the bridge.

“We can’t all travel on the bridge together!” the traveler from the opposite side of the river said, “The bridge won’t hold our weight.  The rope will snap, the bridge will fall, we will drown in the river.”

The fellow traveler replied, “That’s the plan.”