Setting up a Jenga game on the platform Sunday made a great point about integrity. A Jenga tower is a lot like life. Just like the game, when all the pieces are neatly in place the whole thing stands strong. When the player starts shifting the pieces around recklessly, it can get dangerous.

Imagine that God’s plan for you looks like a solid Jenga tower. Think of how all the pieces fit together perfectly. God’s plan is ideal. It has structural integrity. It is secure.

Now imagine that you begin removing some pieces of His plan. Or perhaps you start adding some pieces off-center where God never intended to support the extra stress. Soon the foundation begins shifting, and the whole thing looks like a holey, twisted, leaning Tower of Pisa. Everyone can see that you’re headed for a fall.

At the end of the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus concluded His message with a challenge and an illustration just like that (Matthew 7:24-27). Essentially He said, if you hear the teaching of Jesus and don’t put it to work in your life, you are like a person whose home is built on a sandy foundation. At times, it doesn’t look too shabby, but when the wind blows, the rain pours, and the flood rises, it will eventually all come crashing down.

People commonly live their lives built according to their own plan rather than God’s. But who wants all the pressure of a balancing act, wondering when the whole thing will fall apart? That’s why Jesus calls us to UNCOMMON INTEGRITY.

Integrity is a word that began to make sense to me when I read Uprising by Erwin Raphael McManus. The author explained that integrity comes from the root word integer. I vaguely remember from math class that an integer is a whole number. A whole number is not written as divided. Something that is whole and not divided can be described as having integrity.

I have integrity when my life proves to have a quality of wholeness and indivisibleness. When who I am at work is the same as who I am at home, and who I am church, you might say that I have integrity. When my walk matches my talk, you might say that I have integrity. When my behavior behind closed doors aligns with my behavior when the doors are open, you might say I have integrity.

And what if it didn’t? What if my life lacked integrity? Think about the space shuttle Columbia. In 2003, one small piece of insulating foam from the external fuel tank peeled off during Columbia’s launch and struck the shuttle’s wing. Sixteen days later, when the shuttle attempted to re-enter the earth’s atmosphere, pressure and heat disintegrated first the wing, then the support structure, and then the rest of the shuttle broke apart.

Did you notice that word, disintegrated? If my life lacks integrity, it will undoubtedly disintegrate.

Integrity is no longer common place for people, and disintegrated lives are all too common. That is why I’ll be speaking on Uncommon Integrity this weekend. I hope to see you Sunday.