This week, we were discussing the ways to connect and grow at the Bridge, and it made me think of Lego’s. Very many things make me think of Lego’s, and at least a little of it is because, at any time anywhere in my home, I am surrounded by Lego’s. Where I sit to work, I see, in order, the house from Up, a mouse house & wheel, Eva & Wall-E, and then a mechanical rhino that looks menacing. I almost forgot Kevin, Russell and Mr Fredrickson (also from Up). I can see, in another room, a gigantic Millennium Falcon (from Star Wars) and a tower-type thing. My oldest son is what’s called an AFOL (Adult Fan Of Lego). This is something that is new to me. I thought Lego was a child’s toy, but of course I was wrong about that.

I do jigsaw puzzles. I love connecting small, seemingly unrelated pieces into a larger cohesive picture. It’s a way we can reduce the unrelenting noise and bring order & beauty to chaos. This is exactly what Legos do. Small, seemingly unrelated pieces into larger cohesive pictures. You know, this is also a pretty great description of The Church. We are all small, seemingly unrelated pieces who fit perfectly into a larger Divine design, a beautiful picture of harmony and peace.

Anyway. In a Lego build, there is a specific process. You begin with a foundation, whether it’s a flat square or a series of connected bricks, it’s the solid base of whatever we will create. Then, it grows with each piece, each level, color and size, into finally, a finished masterpiece. Finished, unless we choose to dismantle parts or a whole and transform the model, using our imaginations and interests.

Sunday, in that short talk about plans, programs, and practices, I realized we were simply talking about the bricks of our lives. The foundation is the same: Jesus. But from there, we use this creative spark we were born with, in the image of a wildly creative God, to build our own masterpieces. What kinds of bricks will we choose? Will they be Bible reading and/or car mechanics? Writing blog posts, long distance running, parenting, caring for pets, volunteering…As with all artwork, the only limits are our own self-imposed boundaries and the distraction that so often plots our course.

The world is big, fast, loud, and never stops demanding of us. Without any sort of direction, intentionally set, we will simply roll with the tide.

The Scriptures are a vast library of all different kinds of literature. There’s poetry, history, parable, song, prophesy, letter, and on and on, but each of them leaves us with one constant question. What now? This one leads us to so many more. What does this poem (or story or whatever) mean, and what does it mean for me now? What does a letter written to a church in Asia 2,000 years ago have anything to do with us in Pennsylvania today?

Those letters addressed the same issues we have. What does it mean to be human? What is a beautiful, meaningful life? And when we make it personal, what does it mean to be me, what does it look like for me to be human? What is my purpose? What am I really here for? Then, we build. What will our greatest work of art, this gift of our lives, be? Will we love?

Today is our day. We have all the bricks from which to choose, everything is possible. What now?