The Parable of the Mud and the Highway

“What is the kingdom of heaven like? Or to what shall we compare the foolishness of the litigious quibblers?

It is like a group of travelers in the countryside. The master of the road built a wide highway and clear driveways—paved solid, leading straight into the open fields and sunny hills. On this road, the simple, the children, and the weary walk with joy.

But certain men among them steer their wagons off the paved road directly into the thick, dark mud. They rev their engines, spin their wheels, and bury their axles up to the frame. Then they cry out to the whole village, saying, ‘Look at our misery! Why does no one care that we are stuck? You are unloving if you do not abandon your journey, bring your timber, and pave this swamp for us!’

They argue from morning until dusk about the texture of the dirt, the angle of the ditch, and the minutiae of the mud. They adamantly refuse to abandon their wagons laden with legalese and bureaucratic burdens.

He who has ears to hear, let him hear: These pedants are puffed up with conceit, understanding nothing. They have an unhealthy craving for controversy and quarrels about words, which produce only envy, slander, and CONSTANT friction. They mistake their mud and self-made misery for righteousness, while the simple, the meek, and childlike walk and play freely, joyfully, and confidently on the paved road.”

The Parable of the Snow Chains

“To what else shall I compare the pedant pettifoggers?

They are like people living in a warm southern valley where the sun shines all year and snow almost never falls.

A group of paranoid people in the town grew restless and began to shout in the market: ‘What if a blizzard comes? We must care for the safety of our townspeople! We must mandate snow chains for every wheel! It would be gross negligence not to do so! We must spend our gold, draft new laws, and prepare for the great freeze!’

The simple, wise, childlike people of the village answered them gently, ‘Brothers, the sun is warm. It rarely snows here. And if a few flakes should fall, we will simply stay inside by the fire until noon. The sun will rise, the snow will melt, and the roads will clear themselves. Why consume your strength with phantom fears?’

But the pedants beat their breasts and cried, ‘Abuse! You leave us defenseless!’ And they spent their days writing thick books of rules for storms that never came, while their neighbors sat together in the sun, enjoying the peace of the day.

Truly, I tell you, godliness is not found in endless panic or litigious chatter. He who devises burdens for imaginary winters is blind to the spring already around him.”