Prior to coming out to Denver to begin seminary I was a case manager for mentally and physically disabled adults. During the two years invested in that job, I played many games of Jenga. I had one particular client who demanded we get at least one game in before talking about anything serious. He loved to play Jenga, but he was hopeless at the game. His hands were gnarled and extremely unsteady, and he might have removed two or three blocks before the entire tower would come crashing down time after time.
As I trudged through my seminary years and still now I often see folks who approach Jesus much like the game of Jenga. The goal for many is to position their blocks just right, neatly and squarely, so that their construction will stay standing. They may look with fear and resentment upon those who take risks in removing some of the key blocks from the foundation. Others thrive, and even pride themselves in taking the risks. They enthusiastically test the construction, removing as many blocks as possible to show others their tower will still remain upright.
Because it takes a steady hand and a calculating mind to win a game of Jenga, the metaphor as it relates to the person of Christ is not a good one. We all know those who are systematic about the way they stack their blocks and we see the fear they display when someone messes with their system. And we likely know those on the other side of the spectrum who react against such systems removing the blocks that matter most in a display of personal freedom.
The reason the game of Jenga makes for such a poor metaphor in relation to Jesus is that there is no mystery to the game. It's all about getting the balance of weight just right so that you won't be the one responsible for letting the tower fall. But when it comes to unexplainable tragedies like shootings in shopping malls and church buildings, regardless of how one stacks the blocks the tower still tips.
This time of year when I'm reminded of the virgin birth and the idea of the incarnation coming in the vulnerability of a child, I'm reminded that the reality of Christ--author of the full life--is a profound mystery. Through the recent shootings that occurred in Arvada and Colorado Springs I was reminded of another mysterious reality that leaves one empty and lifeless.
Mysteries can't be explained away by systems constructed by human hands or minds. Mystery provokes the questions that leave us feeling most powerless. And typically my response to mystery, my default mode, is to deny reality and seek comfort in something stackable. Henri Nouwen speaks of this when he says,
What keeps us from opening ourselves to the reality of the world? Could it be that we cannot accept our powerlessness and are only willing to see those wounds that we can heal? Could it be that we do not want to give up our illusion that we are masters over our world and therefore, create our own Disneyland where we can make ourselves believe that all events of life are safely under control? Could it be that our blindness and deafness are signs of our own resistance to acknowledging that we are not the Lord of the Universe? It is hard to allow these questions to go beyond the level of rhetoric and to really sense in our innermost self how much we resent our powerlessness. Reaching Out p. 57
It's a mystery that Jesus said his Father's preferred way was to withhold the truth from the wise and to reveal it to children... to the powerless. And so in the season of Advent, the Christ child presents the ongoing mystery, the ongoing question: Can you trust in One who came not as a powerful politician? Or as a warlord with a sword in hand? But as a vulnerable newborn?
There will come a day when my disabled friend will play Jenga without knocking down any of the blocks, but until that day... are you alright with powerlessness?
Ryan Taylor
Works with Missio, encouraging incarnational leaders
Seeks to live life as if another world is possible
Read more of Ryan’s musings on his blog, Tall Monastic Guy.
Comments (1)
I can relate to Jenga game strategies. As an I.T. person, my job is to make sure things stay together and have a contingency plan in case they do not. I can't allow unknowns.
As a believer, unknowns are terrifying and I have the tendency to 'freeze up' in my faith. e.g. fear as to whether I should be leading a team to Romania next year, our church trips into Mexico. Both of them carry unknowns-at the sametime, I build my career value in knowing and providing answers and not letting anything drop or fall down.
Quite opposite of faith. Yah, I trust the One who came not as a powerful politician, my problem is that He isn't always my first response go to; it's usually me. Man, I am so grateful for Him.
Blessings,
Jerry out in L.A. Calif.
Posted by Jerry | December 18, 2007 9:37 PM
Posted on December 18, 2007 21:37