During the time of the Incas, communities in Peru who lived near a river would build marvelous hanging bridges out of rope, hand woven of qqoya grass (a type of Andean bunchgrass). These handmade bridges were a means of transportation for people, their goods, and livestock. The bridge construction amounted to a pair of stone anchors on each side of the canyon with massive cables of woven grass linking the two pylons together. Two additional cables acted as guardrails. The cables which supported the foot-path were reinforced with plaited branches. The bridges were so heavy that they tended to sag in the middle, causing them to sway, sometimes violently, in high winds. Some bridges spread 220 feet across the canyon, and 118 feet above the river. What spectacular sights, these massive bridges – breathtakingly hanging over treacherous canyons and gorges, while tumult rivers loomed beneath.
The tradition of the suspension bridge continues today. Each June, hundreds of people join in the mountain community of Huinchiri in southeast Peru to rebuild a contemporary bridge in celebration of their cultural heritage and to honor their ancestors and religious beliefs. The process takes three days of round-the-clock work, with the women braiding thousands of pounds of sturdy, stout straw into ropes, while the men construct the bridge high over the perilous canyon. Ironically, this annually built structure stands just a short distance downstream from the steel girder bridge used for present day transportation; therefore, showing just how serious the Inca people take their inheritance and how determined they are to reverence their God.
Reading about these people and their desire to maintain their bridges started me thinking about our spiritual bridges – yours and mine. We most surely have a heritage to honor, a God to revere, and religious beliefs to uphold - but are we building a strong consecrated bridge to crossover someday? Can our bridge withstand the elements? When the winds blow and a cable’s footing starts to shift, do we find ourselves concerned or are we assured that all is well? Do we check its structural credibility often, quickly detecting any flaw, and then rebuild any abnormalities noted?
One of these days, we will have to cross our bridge. It will be a narrow path, and will be our only passage to the other side (no, we won’t be able to go upstream to cross another way). So when that day arrives, will we be able to say with certainty that our spiritual bridge has been soundly built and maintained so as to take us safely to the other side? Or will our bridge take us tumbling into a gorge filled with abuse and incompetent daily maintenance (finding us shattered and broken on the rocks below, or drowning in a river of no return)?
Reading about these people and their desire to maintain their bridges started me thinking about our spiritual bridges – yours and mine. We most surely have a heritage to honor, a God to revere, and religious beliefs to uphold - but are we building a strong consecrated bridge to crossover someday? Can our bridge withstand the elements? When the winds blow and a cable’s footing starts to shift, do we find ourselves concerned or are we assured that all is well? Do we check its structural credibility often, quickly detecting any flaw, and then rebuild any abnormalities noted?
One of these days, we will have to cross our bridge. It will be a narrow path, and will be our only passage to the other side (no, we won’t be able to go upstream to cross another way). So when that day arrives, will we be able to say with certainty that our spiritual bridge has been soundly built and maintained so as to take us safely to the other side? Or will our bridge take us tumbling into a gorge filled with abuse and incompetent daily maintenance (finding us shattered and broken on the rocks below, or drowning in a river of no return)?
The Choice is Ours.
