THE BRIDGE KEEPER

As we remember the atonement of Jesus Christ for the complete remission of our sins, I 

want to begin today’s broadcast with a story that I included in part four of Christianity 

in Crisis – 21st Century. It’s a story that takes place in the roaring 20’s in Oklahoma:

John Griffith was in his early twenties. He was newly married and full of optimism. Along 

with his lovely wife, he had been blessed with a beautiful baby. He was living the 

American dream. But then came 1929—the Great Stock Market Crash—the shattering of the 

American economy that devastated John’s dreams. The winds that howled through Oklahoma 

were strangely symbolic of the gale force that was sweeping away his hopes and his dreams. 

And so, brokenhearted, John packed up his few possessions, and with his wife and his 

little son, headed East in an old Ford Model A. They made their way to the edge of the 

mighty Mississippi River and found a job tending one of the great railroad bridges there.

Day after day, John would sit in the control room and direct the enormous gears of the 

immense bridge over the mighty river. He would look out wistfully as bulky barges and 

splendid ships glided gracefully under his elevated bridge. Each day, he looked on sadly 

as those ships carried with them his shattered dreams and his visions of far-off places 

and exotic destinations.

It wasn’t until 1937 that a new dream began to be birthed in John’s heart. His young son 

was now eight years old and John had begun to catch a vision for a new life, a life in 

which Greg, his little son, would work shoulder to shoulder with him. The first day of 

this new life dawned and brought with it new hope and fresh purpose. Excitedly, they 

packed their lunches and headed off towards the immense bridge.

Greg looked on in wide-eyed amazement as his Dad pressed down the huge lever that raised 

and lowered the vast bridge. As he watched, he thought that his father must surely be the 

greatest man alive. He marveled that his Dad could singlehandedly control the movements of 

such a stupendous structure.

Before they knew it, Noon time had arrived. John had just elevated the bridge and allowed 

some scheduled ships to pass through. And then taking his son by the hand, they headed off 

towards lunch.

As they ate, John told his son in vivid detail stories about the marvelous destinations of 

the ships that glided below them. Enveloped in a world of thought, he related story after 

story, his son hanging on his every word.

Then, suddenly, in the midst of telling a tale about the time that the river had 

overflowed its banks, he and his son were startled back to reality by the shrieking 

whistle of a distant train. Looking at his watch in disbelief, John saw that it was 

already 1:07. Immediately he remembered that the bridge was still raised and that the 

Memphis Express would be by in just minutes.

In the calmest tone he could muster he instructed his son “Stay put.” Quickly, he leaped 

to his feet, he jumped onto the catwalk. As the precious seconds flew by, he ran at full-

tilt to the steer ladder leading into the control house.

Once in, he searched the river to make sure that no ships were in sight. And then, as he 

had been trained to do, he looked straight down beneath the bridge to make certain nothing 

was below. As his eyes moved downward, he saw something so horrifying that his heart froze 

in his chest. For there, below him in the massive gearbox that housed the colossal gears 

that moved the gigantic bridge, was his beloved son.

Apparently Greg had tried to follow his dad but had fallen off the catwalk. Even now he 

was wedged between the teeth of two main cogs in the gear box. Although he appeared to be 

conscious, John could see that his son’s leg had already begun to bleed. Then an even more 

horrifying thought flashed through his mind. Lowering the bridge would mean killing the 

apple of his eye.

Panicked, his mind probed in every direction, frantically searching for solutions. In his 

mind’s eye, he saw himself grabbing a coiled rope, climbing down the ladder, running down 

the catwalk, securing the rope, sliding down towards his son, pulling him back to safety. 

Then in an instant, he would move back down towards the control lever and thrust it down 

just in time for the oncoming train.

As soon as these thoughts appeared, he realized the futility of his plan. Instantly he 

knew there just wouldn’t be enough time. Frustration began to beat on John’s brow, terror 

written over every inch of his face. His mind darted here and there, vainly searching for 

yet another solution.

His agonized mind considered the four hundred people that were moving inextricably closer 

and closer to the bridge. Soon the train would come roaring out of the trees with 

tremendous speed, but this was his son…his only son…his pride…his joy.

He knew in a moment there was only one thing he could do. He knew he would have to do it. 

And so, burying his face under his left arm, he plunged down the lever. The cries of his 

son were quickly drowned out by the relentless sound of the bridge as it ground slowly 

into position. With only seconds to spare, the Memphis Express—with its 400 passengers—

roared out of the trees and across the mighty bridge.

John Griffith lifted his tear-stained face and looked into the windows of the passing 

train. A businessman was reading the morning newspaper. A uniformed conductor was glancing 

nonchalantly as his large vest pocket watch. Ladies were already sipping their afternoon 

tea in the dining cars. A small boy, looking strangely like his own son, pushed a long 

thin spoon into a large dish of ice cream. Many of the passengers seemed to be engaged in 

idle conversation or careless laughter.

No one even looked his way. No one even cast a glance at the giant gear box that housed 

the mangled remains of his hopes and his dreams.

In anguish he pounded the glass in the control room. He cried out “What’s the matter with 

you people? Don’t you know? Don’t you care? Don’t you know I’ve sacrificed my son for you? 

What’s wrong with you?”

No one answered. No one heard. No one even looked. Not one of them seemed to care. And 

then, as suddenly as it had happened, it was over. The train disappeared moving rapidly 

across the bridge and out over the horizon.

Even now as I retell this story, I’m moved by emotion. For this is but a faint glimpse of 

what the Father did in sacrificing his Son to atone for the sins of the world. Unlike the 

Memphis Express, however, an express that caught John Griffith by surprise, God in His 

great love and according to His sovereign will and purpose, determined to sacrifice his 

Son so that we might live. Not only so, but the consummate love of Christ is demonstrated 

in that He was not accidentally caught as was John’s son. Rather, He willingly sacrificed 

his life for the sins of mankind.

Well, the story of course doesn’t end there. Three days later, Jesus arose from the grave. 

For this reason, we celebrate throughout the year and particularly during Easter, the 

broken body, the shed blood, the mangled remains of our Savior with joy, because Jesus 

overcame death and the grave through His resurrection. Moreover, like Jesus, we too shall 

rise. You, I, John Griffith, his son, and those who believe, we will live forever with our 

resurrected Lord in Paradise Restored.

please leave a comment. Thanks!