Empire’s Fragility
I used to visit a student at our local elementary school as part of a mentoring program with Aliquippa Impact. We’d meet in a bright, neat classroom stocked with activities. While the hour passed, I’d often play a game with the student I was mentoring. As we played, I’d ask him questions about school, sports, and his family.
Most often, he wanted to play the game Perfection. I was always willing because growing up it was a favorite of mine to enjoy with my cousins at my grandparents’ house.
There’s a pressed down, plastic grid with different shaped spaces in it - stars, half-moons, rectangles. A timer is set and the players race to fill the spaces with corresponding shaped pieces. If the players do it right, they can fill the spaces with the pieces before the timer expires. But when time runs out, the plastic grid pops up, exploding the little pieces into the air and across the floor. No matter how prepared I am for that “pop,” I seem to always flinch with surprise.
How can such a short, repetitive game be so fun and addicting?
I keep thinking about Perfection as I have experienced recent days. A week ago, I was in my normal routine of ministry meetings and activities. I was about to leave for the Dominican Republic on a short trip to visit one of our mission partners.
Well, I’m not in the Dominican.
Instead, our staff prepared today to serve our community as ever-increasing government restrictions are announced in response to COVID-19. Even in recent hours, it seems precautions have become yet more necessary and intense.
How could so much change so quickly?
In different ways and at different times, the authors of Scripture describe empire - the world’s systems with its economies, institutions, governments, and rulers. In fact, the story of God’s people in biblical history almost always takes place within the looming context of empire. The Apostle John, in his apocalyptic vision, reveals empire (which he refers to as “Babylon”) as ultimately quite fragile:
(Revelation 18:19) They threw dust on their heads and cried out, weeping and wailing, and saying, “Alas, alas, that great city, in which all who had ships on the sea became rich by her wealth! For in one hour she is made desolate.”
In only an hour! How fragile empire is. In every age of human history, in every manifestation of its power and glory, it doesn’t take much to shake it.
I imagine empire like a giant game of Perfection. There’s empty space; empire wants to fill it - with smart things, beautiful things, impressive things. There it is - perfect. Glorious. Ordered. Strong.
But then the timer runs out. War, political turmoil, natural disaster, pandemic. The things that were set in the spaces get shaken. Even what was most boastful and proud gets thrown into the air. And we’re reminded that no matter how many times the spaces are filled and no matter how smart we get, the shaking will happen again.
Why is this so addicting?
I don’t mean to speak about our current global crisis as if its final. In fact, I imagine we’ll come back from this. Maybe in just a couple of weeks, maybe longer. But we’ll come back. Empire always does (until it won’t someday, as the apostle reminds us). It seems there’s always another round of putting plastic pieces into corresponding empty spots. See, we’re smart and quick and skilled! We did it.
No matter how many times we play, the “pop” of Perfection always comes as a surprise to us (even though we know it’s going to happen). There’s a mess of plastic pieces to clean up - all over the desk and floor. But I also see an opportunity.
There’s space.
The shaking makes room. Empire’s fragility means the space that’s been filled by power isn’t permanent. Even the most powerful and boastful looking things are just plastic pieces that will eventually fly into the air. This scares us, but I think there’s good news in it.
The shaking that’s happening now in our world will make room. Yes, empire (even religious empire) will want to fill it again, and soon. So pay attention. It’s downright lustful for empty space. But for now at least, room is being made in the slowing and halting.
Don’t just look at the mess of plastic pieces on the floor. I mean, help clean it up; it’s kind and loving to help. But also notice the newly revealed space.
What if it’s space to love in new ways?
Space for new relationships and new ways of relating.
Space to lead and influence by giving up control instead of manipulating.
Space to share and serve.
Space to seek justice and show mercy.
Space to create wealth without oppressing people.
Space for Jesus to do really unexpected things.
And while the powerful are scrambling and reeling, let’s help make it space for the most vulnerable to be honored and heard.
Space is good.
I know this because I’ve lived the last 15 years in a community where the Perfection timer suddenly popped on empire. The mills closed down, industry moved away, and what seemed to be an invincible economy collapsed. So tragic, but what was left was space. It was scary; it’s still painful, but there’s also opportunity in the space.
Contrary to what people might suspect, God has been moving in this space called Aliquippa. He’s been building in this space, doing really innovative and unexpected things in this space, creating really cool stories here. There’s even space to honor a kid’s voice by listening to him in an elementary school as we play Perfection together.
Sure, we can only look at the mess of pieces if we want to, and maybe, like the people in John’s vision, we’ll marvel and mourn at what can happen in only an hour to empire. But why not notice all the space too - the possibility, the opportunity - and imagine something different? And let’s ask God to fill it. Heaven wants to fill space too, so let’s ask for Heaven’s Kingdom to come.
A Kingdom that can’t be shaken.
