More Than a Child's Play Thing?

 Have you ever been confronted by another human who tried so hard to convince you that you are not a space ranger? That you’re just a human? Maybe not, but there is a lot more in common with you and Buzz than you think.

Toy Story has a lot of aspects that I love about it, number one being that the concept of toys being living things when the humans are not present is such a classic idea for any sort of film. It is also one my entire childhood identifies with: I played with all of my toys like they were educated, English-speaking humans who lived their daily lives the way humans do.

 

Sometimes, my sister and I played with Barbies and Hot Wheels cars/Legos the exact same way Toy Story portrayed the relationship between living toys and the human race. She would play with the Barbies like they were real human beings, and I would use my Lego collection to pretend they came to life when no one was looking and use the cars as their transportation.

 

Mostly, though, we didn’t incorporate the toys becoming fake again when humans were around, but we did give our Beanie Babies, bead lizards, Hot Wheels Cars, stuffed animals, even Kohl’s models we’d cut out of catalogues lives, personalities, jobs, hobbies, and adventures they’d go on every free moment we had to play with them. It was what our childhood imaginations gave us when video games, television, and Rollercoaster Tycoon on the PC were only limited to 30 minutes a day. God bless my parents for helping us develop such strange, yet creative imaginations.

 

For example, my little sister and I pretended the staircase leading from the second floor to the main floor was a gigantic waterfall only comparable to Multnomah Falls directly south of Seattle (which I’d recommend for anyone who loves hiking, amazing views, and/or waterfalls). While the fake waterfall did what real waterfalls do, our Beanie Babies, for reasons unknown to this day, were all trapped on the edges of that waterfall, and the only way they would survive is to make it to the top of the stairs.

 

To make matters more interesting, each step filled with our favorite Beanie Babies were backstories and pieces of information pulled directly from our brains about each Beanie Baby. Information about how they got there, their level of motivation to make it to the top, and how willing they were to help the others out were shared with great energy, enthusiasm, and detail. If you’re thinking we wouldn’t last 20 minutes until we got bored, you’re wrong. We would take a break for dinner, but if anyone messed with our setup, we would excommunicate them from our lives.

 

The second thing I love about Toy Story is the depth the director goes into with character development. The older I get, and the more I watch it, the deeper I go into the minds of Buzz, Woody, and any toy that has a more than three lines in the movie. For example, the average viewer would say Woody is jealous of Buzz being so much better than him and all of the other toys. But the reason Woody is jealous is only revealed to the audience member who strategically performs an exegesis on the movie and the main characters. I guess you could do an exegesis on Mr. Potato Head, but it might be more difficult than, say, Buzz or Woody. My theory is Woody is jealous of Buzz or any other modern toy replacing Woody, which means Woody has some abandonment issues that a therapist needs to take him through – especially considering that literally every toy (even Bo Peep) loves the addition of Buzz except for Woody.

 

Recently, I watched Toy Story with my 5^th grade class and there is scene that stood out to me among the rest – to me, this is representative of what makes Toy Story so special: the more you watch and rewatch the film, the more that is revealed to you. To set the scene, Woody and Buzz are trapped in Sid’s room, and Sid is still asleep. Either Sid is missing school again or it’s Saturday, but since Andy is also home and it’s right before the big move, I lean towards it being Saturday. Buzz is strapped to “The Big One,” the firework that Sid planned on blowing Buzz to smithereens with the day before but the weather postponed the event. Woody was about to be the one who is strapped to the firework right before the rain delayed Sid’s plan, but he makes it to a blue milk crate in time to hide while Buzz, depressed from learning he is not just a toy, but a toy that can’t fly, receives his rocket fate without fighting it. In fact, Sid is right about to head out to the backyard to follow through with the plan until rain comes pouring down. Sid winds up his alarm clock and goes to sleep, which gives Woody time to give Buzz a pep talk that eventually snaps him out of his depressed funk and leaps him, rocket strapped to his back and all, into action:

Buzz: No Woody, for the first time I am thinking clearly. You were right all along. I'm not a Space Ranger, I'm just a toy, a stupid little insignificant toy.
Woody: Whoa, wait a minute. Being a toy is a lot better than being a "Space Ranger."
Buzz: Yeah, right.
Woody: No, it is. Look, over in that house is a kid who thinks you're the greatest, and it's not because you're a Space Ranger, it's because you're a toy. You are his toy.
Buzz: But why would Andy want me?
Woody: Why would Andy want you?! Look at you! You're a Buzz Lightyear! Any other toy would give up its moving parts just to be you! You've got wings! You glow in the dark! You talk! Your helmet does that, that, that whoosh thing! You are a cool toy! As a matter of fact, you're too cool. 

When I watched this scene with Buzz and Woody, and I take out the fact that Woody spends a majority of this film acting petty, insecure, and constantly compares himself to a toy out of his league, these lines sound a lot like me talking to Jesus trying to convince him I’m just some stupid, insignificant person who can’t shock the world with my amazingness. Then Jesus responds by redirecting my thoughts to believe in what is true.

I’ve spent a majority of my life playing the role of both characters, Buzz and Woody. Not because I think I landed on Sector 12 instead of Earth, or I think I can fly, or I have a string attached to my back that says, “There’s a snake in my boot” when pulled. I have shared the same mindset as Woody, who lost sight of himself when a shiny, new toy with better gadgets and lights shows up on the bed; he even admits it at the end of the scene mentioned above:

“As a matter of fact, you're too cool. I mean, what chance does a toy like me have against a Buzz Lightyear action figure? …Why would Andy ever want to play with me, when he's got you? I'm the one that should be strapped to that rocket.”

 

When I’m not Woody, I am Buzz refusing to accept who he really is because he has been programmed to believe he’s something he is not. Does Buzz have control over it? That’s for another blog; however, like Buzz, I am blinded by lies. I believe what makes Toy Story 1 a masterpiece is that these two toys with incredible strengths and weaknesses are bonded together over time, but they both are so relatable to how I behave when I wander from the truth about how God sees me.

 

The ultimate point is this: even if I am a space ranger, that’s not what makes me amazing. Andy doesn’t love Buzz because he acts like a space ranger, it’s because he’s a cool toy. God doesn’t love me because I’m a teacher, and he doesn’t love you because of your occupation. He loves you because he thought of you when he made you. He loves you because he put time into designing you just the way you are.

 

Furthermore, just because a space ranger shows up in my life, doesn’t mean I am less loved by God. Often, I do this with people who God has allowed me to cross paths with in my lifetime: I’m less awesome because Blake owns a Tesla and I don’t. I’m less distinguished as a teacher because my fifth grade team is all caught up on grades but I’m not. I am not a good father because my wife knows what  to feed him and I still don’t. Lies. Just like Woody believing he’s being replaced because he doesn’t have a laser pointer on his wrist, wings that pop out of his back, and a space helmet that covers his face at the push of a button, among the many other buttons.

 

Woody or Buzz,  I am just like both, whether I am refusing to accept my true identity, even if it is much better than being a Space Ranger, or I am busy comparing my existence to someone completely unrelated and worrying about being replaced. Either way, both mindsets are built on a foundation of lies, causing me to stray far from the truth I should just staple to my forehead at this point:

Psalm 139:14: “I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.”

 

If I am pointing fingers at anyone, it’s me. I spend so much time crafting the perfect classroom – when one piece gets ruined, or my day doesn’t match my vision when I created the lesson plans for the week, I throw a tantrum similar to the one Woody has when they are stuck at the Dinoco gas station under the large semi-truck:

 

Woody: “This is the perfect time to panic! I’m lost, Andy is gone, they’re going to move from their house in two days and it’s all your fault!”

 

After Buzz tries to deflect blame back to Woody, Woody refuses to accept any responsibility and accountability for his own flawed belief:

 

Woody: “Oh yeah? Well, if you hadn’t shown up in your stupid little cardboard spaceship and taken away everything that was important to me –”

 

The path of lies Woody chooses to walk down causes him to isolate himself from a partnership with Buzz, who could ultimately help get them back to Andy. This same path also convinces Woody that thinking logically is out of the question and relying on blame to ease his mind is the only solution – in fact, it’s the reason the movie is over 1 hour long!

 

Imagine how the conversation goes if Woody let the Scriptures guide him:

Woody: “While I do feel sad and upset that I am separated from Andy, I trust Buzz and I can work together to get back to my owner. In fact, I could use this opportunity to form a bond with Buzz that will hopefully allow us to get back to Andy and even coexist in the same bedroom!”

 

Of course, then the movie would end 30 minutes into the film, but it’s a good reminder of how much drama I let into my own life when I forget my roots in Christ.

 

To be fully invested in what Christ thinks of me – to wrap myself tightly around the truth of how God sees me – is to remove any distractions from a life well lived. God’s truth empowers us, because when we are empowered, we step out in faith to look like Jesus in the midst of obstacles that come our way. The truth calms us when the pressure of the world around us feels to immense, and it grounds us when the lies feel too similar to the truth.

 

There’s no better way to conclude than to bring to the light one of the steadiest Toy Story characters in the film, Bo Peep:

“I know Andy’s excited about Buzz. But you know he’ll always have a special place for you.”

God is overjoyed when people live in his truth about them, but he always has a special place for you – after all, unlike Andy, he made all of creation, which includes you. Of course he has a special place for you, and you are irreplaceable.