Serious play.

That’s what a number of executives are doing these days, and it has nothing to do with their golf games. Instead, they are playing at work, in an attempt to pull their corporations out of slumps and scandals. They are being assisted in this exercise by Lego, the Danish maker of colored plastic building blocks.

What Lego consultants provide, for a fee of $7,000, is a two-day workshop in which plastic bricks are used to build “metaphorical abstractions” of various business challenges.

Yes, metaphorical abstractions. These are Lego creations that capture a problem or a situation, and illustrate it in a clear and creative way.

For example, if your boss is crushing the spirits of everyone in your company, maybe your Lego creation would be an enormous boss figure smashing a collection of tiny people. That’s a picture of what is happening in your workplace. It’s a simple picture, yes — but since the workshop costs $7,000, it has to be called a “metaphorical abstraction.”

According to The Economist magazine (July 7, 2007), these workshops are now available in 25 countries, and business is booming. The results are revealing, but they can definitely be embarrassing — especially for senior managers. One chief executive was portrayed as so fat that he blocked a hallway, suggesting that his actions were clogging up the company. A firm with rotten customer relations was modeled as a fort under siege. And an overbearing boss depicted his staff as soldiers who were heading into battle.

These Lego creations can provide a picture of an organization that people have trouble seeing in any other way. This kind of serious play unlocks understandings that might remain hidden in normal business meetings.

Legos show the bare bones of a difficult situation, one that can be understood and then improved.

[I will call two elders forward, and give them a tub of Legos, along with a platform to build on. Their challenge is to go to the narthex and spend ten minutes creating a “metaphorical abstraction” of our congregation. When they return, they’ll do some show-and-tell with the congregation]

The prophet Ezekiel was called by God to do some serious play when the people of Israel were trapped in exile in Babylon.. They were far from home, feeling hopeless and lost, dried up and depressed. In the middle of this spirit-draining situation, the hand of the Lord comes upon Ezekiel and gives him a vision of a valley full of bones.

Dry bones. Bleached bones. Dead, disgusting, disorganized, disconnected and desiccated bones. Bones that are completely lifeless, but might still be able to illustrate something important.

Legos and bones.

“Mortal, can these bones live?” God asks the prophet (Ezekiel 37:3).

You can imagine that there is complete silence at this point, with Ezekiel wondering, “Is this a trick question, or what?” Dry, dead, disconnected, desiccated bones — can they live? It would be like looking at a tub of Legos, and asking if these building blocks can come to life.

But Ezekiel knows the unlimited and unpredictable power of the one Lord God, so he’s not going to blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. He says, quite diplomatically, “O Lord God, you know” (v. 3).

“Prophesy to these bones,” commands the Lord; “say to them: O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord. Thus says the Lord God to these bones: I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. I will lay sinews on you, and will cause flesh to come upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and you shall live; and you shall know that I am the Lord” (vv. 4-6).

Ezekiel doesn’t know exactly what is going to happen, but he’s up for some serious play. So he prophesies to the bones, and suddenly they begin to click together, like so many Lego building blocks. The foot bone connects to the leg bone, the leg bone connects to the hip bone … you know the song … and then sinews appear, followed by flesh and skin. But there is still no breath in them (vv. 7-8).

So God says, “Prophesy to the breath … Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live.” So Ezekiel prophesies as God has commanded him, and the breath comes into them, and they come to life — a vast multitude of living people (vv. 9-10).

This is serious play.

But what does this vision mean? It is like one of the “metaphorical abstractions” being created in a Lego workshop. God is quick to interpret the vision for us, saying to Ezekiel, “Mortal, these bones are the whole house of Israel. They say, ‘Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely’” (v. 11).

The people of Israel are feeling dead and dried up, defeated and scattered, as they waste away in exile. But God has not forgotten them, and he promises to open their graves and bring them back to their homeland. “I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live,” promises the Lord, “and I will place you on your own soil; then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken and will act, says the Lord” (v. 14).

The key is God’s Spirit — an awesome, life-giving power that can bring hope to the hopeless and life to the most disconnected and desiccated of bones. This is the Spirit that Ezekiel calls upon when he says, “Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain” — in the original Hebrew, the exact same word ruah is used for wind, breath, and spirit. This is the Spirit that brings the dead to life, because it is the wind-breath-spirit of God that fills the dead bodies and causes them to stand on their feet, “a vast multitude.”

So the answer to God’s original question to Ezekiel is really quite simple. “Mortal, can these bones live?” Yes, they can — if they are filled with the Spirit of God.

The very same is true for us. Today’s passage is not an excerpt from a prophetic self-help book, one which instructs us to reinvent ourselves into a more efficient or effective organization. No, it’s a passage that challenges us to open ourselves to the life-giving power of God’s Spirit, a Spirit that comes to us for one purpose only: So that we will know that God is the Lord (v. 6).

- That’s why God gives life to the bones: So that they will know that he is the Lord.
- That’s why God brings the people of Israel to their homeland: So that they will know that he will act.
- That’s why God gives a child to senior citizens named Abraham and Sarah: So that they will know that nothing is too wonderful for the Lord (Genesis 18:14).
- That’s why God gives a son to a virgin named Mary: So that she will know that nothing is impossible with God (Luke 1:37).
- That’s why God fills us with his life-giving Spirit: So that we will know that God is alive and well and active — right here, right now.

At the heart of this passage from Ezekiel is the message “God is able.”

- When we are lost, wondering what we are supposed to do with our lives, God is able to find us.
- When we are crushed by guilt over what we have done to others, God is able to lift this burden.
- When we are without vision as a congregation, God is able to inspire us and to guide us.
- When we are overwhelmed by parenting or professional challenges, God is able to calm us.
- When we are attacked by people who hate us and want to hurt us, God is able to deliver us.
- When we are feeling disconnected, desiccated, and discouraged, God is able to reconnect us, refresh us, and revive us.

God can take death itself, and transform it into life. God is able.

[I’ll invite the elders to return and show their “metaphorical abstractions” to the congregation. They will briefly describe what they have created. I’ll follow up with questions to the congregation, freely soliciting input]

What do these Legos — these dry bones — tell us about who we are as a congregation?

Where do we need the Spirit of God to be at work among us today?

God says to Ezekiel, “Mortal, these bones are the whole house of Israel.” Our elders have said to us today, “Friends, these Legos are the whole congregation of this church.” The time has come for us to turn to God and ask him to fill us with his Spirit. God can bring life to Legos, to bones, and to us. God is able. Amen.


Sources:
“Piecing things together: What companies can learn from playing with Lego,” The Economist, July 7, 2007, 66.