The Matrix Has You

The Matrix is one of my favorite movies of all time. It may be 10 years old, and I may have watched it several dozen times, but every new viewing remains a treat. The special effects blew us away, but it's the depth of the story that keeps me coming back.

Theology?

The Matrix is one of those films that readily lends itself to philosophical and religious discussion. How do we know what is truly real? And doesn't Neo seem to be a Messiah figure?

I'm not going to argue about the Wachowski brothers' theology, which is imperfect. Of course, we have to admit the same is true of Augustine, Luther, Calvin, Barth, and every other theologian who has ever lived. We see in a dim mirror, as the Apostle Paul put it.

The Matrix can really stretch your mind. It helps me challenge long held assumptions and reframe my thinking. It's stimulating.

Analogies

We're created beings, and we can't really grasp God, eternity, or just how God knows everything. I was a philosophy major in college, and these are heady concepts. We can glimpse parts of them, but never comprehend the whole. (As Augustine said, "If you believe that you have comprehended God, what you have comprehended is not God." God is too big, too other, too holy for mortal minds to fathom.)

I've found some analogies that help me understand creation, eternity, predestination, and human responsibility a bit more.

• Creation is like a book that God has written. He created a plot outline, fleshed it out, made edits and revisions, and when that was done, he spoke and it came to be. As some fiction writers know, some characters take on a life of their own a sometimes follow a path the author would just as soon avoid. (For example, read about Joshua in The Arm of the Starfish by Madeline L'Engle.) Just as human author lives outside the timeline of their stories, God exists outside the timeline of creation.
• Creation is like a play that God has written. He wrote the whole, gives each of us a role, and judges us on how we live our part. Do we trust the playwright, or do we actors believe that we understand the play better than its creator? Do we embrace the life that God planned for us and live it to his glory?
• Creation is like a movie that God has scripted, directed, and edited. When we view a movie, it's put together a certain way, even if the scenes were filmed in a different order. Some scenes end up on the cutting room floor. Some scenes are shot over and over again until everything works just right. The producer has a vision, and the only thing that counts is the end result, not the exact steps involved in creating the final cut.

These are imperfect analogies, but I find them helpful.

To top it all off, the Son of God became a character in the book, play, or movie. Somehow.

It's mind boggling.

'The Matrix Has You'

The Matrix gives me another set of analogies. We discover that what everyone believes is truly real is just a massive multiplayer virtual reality created by the machines. Everything works as we expect it to because the story masters/programmers make no allowances for anything else. Life is predictable and comprehensible. And when things go awry, they send in the Smiths, special programs designed to deal with the few who won't conform to the parameters of this virtual reality.

As many philosophers have asked, "How can I trust my perceptions?" In The Matrix, you can't, because the true reality is that human beings are functioning in a virtual world while their bodies are used to power the machines that enslave them through this simulation.
The key idea behind The Matrix is that there is a true reality behind perceived reality, and because it is truly real, those who can tap into that truth are able to bend or break the laws of the virtual reality. Neo can dodge bullets, move at inhuman speeds, and come back from the dead because he knows he has a real existence outside the simulation.

What we perceive is a construct designed to emulate what is real.

The Matrix Has Us

I'm a Boomer. I grew up and attended school in the 1960s and 1970s. It was a heady time. Science had given us computers, television, rockets, nuclear energy, and much more. We had grasped reality with the laws of science, and nothing would be beyond our grasp. We might inhabit space. We could play with the power of the atom. We could find a way to cure any disease. What we considered unimaginable wonders would become commonplace by the 21st Century. And science fiction became my favorite form of fiction.

Using the scientific method, we would eventually be able to understand and control everything. Beyond the physical world, we could analyze individuals and societies. Even theology - the study of God - became subject to the scientific method. Well, religion. In the end, the universe is comprehensible, and we have or will develop the tools to comprehend it.

The name of this matrix is materialism. Materialism holds that matter is the only thing that exists. There is no reality that cannot be counted, measured, and analyzed. We are the sum of our body chemistry and the electrical impulses coursing through our bodies. If spirits exist as some sort of residual energy after we die, we can detect them. And we can fix psychological problems with electricity, surgery, or chemistry.

By definition, Christians are not materialists. We believe that something exists outside the cosmos, outside the material world. The universe is a created thing, and while we may not be able to measure God, he exists. Not only that, but part of who we are is intended for eternity, for a life beyond the restrictions of this physical world.

That said, many Christians are functional materialists. We theoretically believe in a God not bound by the laws of nature, but we live as though the material world is all that is real. Heaven and the hereafter may be different, but here and now we live as though we are bound by physical reality - by the matrix.

Breaking Free

I have a really hard time believing - really, truly, honestly, completely believing - that what we understand to be the real world is really a construct, a virtual reality that we cannot distinguish from anything else. Yet if we take the Bible as truthful, we know that God intervenes and is not constrained by the laws of creation. Jesus turned water into wine, healed the sick, multiplied fish and bread, cast out demons, walked on water, and came back to life after he had died.

We read of healings in the Old Testament and the New. We see the walls of Jericho crumble. We hear the locks of a prison undone so Peter can walk out. And yet we have a hard time believing it could still happen, because we have been conditioned by the matrix of materialism. There are incurable diseases (at least at our level of scientific knowledge). There are circumstances that God cannot change. Whatever our theology, in practice we see God limited to acting within the laws of nature.

Nonsense. God has never been bound, not even when Jesus took on human flesh and lived among us. Like Neo in The Matrix, Jesus was able to tap into the reality behind perceived reality.

Cosmic Christ

In the very simplest terms, Jesus came to save us from sin, to break the barriers between us and God. But there's a lot more to it than that: Just as all of creation was subject to sin through the actions of Adam and Eve, all of creation is redeemed through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

The Apostle Paul saw this clearly while writing his letter to the church in Rome. Here are three translations of the relevant passage:

"Against its will, all creation was subjected to God's curse. But with eager hope, the creation looks forward to the day when it will join God's children in glorious freedom from death and decay." (Rom 8:20, 21, NLT)

"For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God." (Rom. 8:20, 21, NIV)

"...all the broken and dislocated pieces of the universe - people and things, animals and atoms - get properly fixed and fit together in vibrant harmonies, all because of his death, his blood that poured down from the cross." (Col. 1:20, The Message)

Paul comes back to this theme in Colossians, when he says,

"...through [Jesus] God reconciled everything to himself. He made peace with everything in heaven and on earth by means of Christ's blood on the cross." (Col. 1:20, NLT)

There's a catch: Everything that Jesus accomplished through his death and resurrection has not yet been completed within creation. The last chapter has already been written. It is finished. However, we are living inside the story, and while we know how it will end, the brokenness of this world will not disappear until the new heaven and new earth are made at the end of this story.

Beyond Materialism

Albert Einstein changed our understanding of the universe when he figured out that matter and energy are flip sides of the famous equation E = mc². Energy can be "released" from matter, a truth that showed itself in the atom bomb and nuclear power plants. On the flip side, matter is a form of energy - minuscule subatomic packets clinging together, orbiting each other, and making up the physical world. (Let's not even bring up quantum mechanics, which seems so counterintuitive from a material perspective.)

Energy is matter. Matter is energy. The great I AM spoke, and light and matter and planets and creatures came into being. Out of nothing but his creative power, God invented the reality we live within.

The physical is not all there is. Energy is fundamental, and the laws of physics have some surprises, such as quantum mechanics. How can something be in this orbit or that orbit, move between them, yet never exist between them? It boggles my imagination.

No matter how deep our understanding of this, we live our day-to-day lives rooted in reality as we perceive it - naive pre-theoretical thought. In the pre-scientific world, everyday life included miracles - lightning, the cycle of day and night, spirits, powers, magic - things we couldn't explain but believed in. (Some people are such convinced materialists that they will only accept scientific explanations, such as Arthur C. Clarke's third law, "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.")

For those of us raised in the Western world, it's hard to break our bondage to materialism. Spirituality is a state of mind. Religious experiences can be measured. God, if he exists, set the universe in motion and no longer interferes. There is no magic. There are no miracles. All we can know (as defined by science) is material.

Real Knowing

Materialism is a matter of faith, of believing that for all intents and purposes there is nothing outside the cosmos. This is all there is.

Yet the scientific worldview is a modern development. For millennia, people have believed in gods and spirits and powers not bound by the usual laws of nature. In many cultures, that's still part of the worldview.

Even in the Western world, our naive pre-theoretical thought knows that matter is not all that is. We grasp concepts such as truth, trust, beauty, love, and hope - and their opposites. Even if science can measure changes in our brain chemistry and electrical fields, we know that there's more to these ideals than a brain state.

Although I can't scientifically prove it, I know that God exists, that he loves me, and that he is trustworthy. This is as real to me as the keyboard on which I type these words. And it's a truth so fundamental that my life would be meaningless if it were not true.

There is a God who planned and made the universe and knows every bit of it. There is a God who planned me, brought my parents together to bring me into the world in accordance with his plan, knows my every failure and selfish thought, and loves me just the same. The Son of God came to show the world this love and break the barrier of sin and selfishness between we rebellious humans and the God who planned and made us. The Holy Spirit touches our hearts to convict us of our selfishness and sin - and to reveal God's loving plan to tear down that wall and draw us to himself.

I know all that. I live because that is true. And yet I have a hard time letting God be God in the physical world. I have a struggle knowing that God can and will bend or shatter the rules of the physical world even though I have heard the stories from childhood, hear of new miracles every month, and have seen and experienced some.

Matter is energy. God transcends the laws of nature. God has touched my spirit and transformed my life. And still I struggle with unbelief in this area.

In Mark 9, we read the story of a man who brought his son to Jesus for release from an evil spirit. Like me, this father had a hard time really believing, and he confessed to Jesus, "I do believe, but help me not to doubt!" (Mark 9:24 NLT)

I know the physical world is not all there is, and I know the God behind our perceived reality, but the matrix still has me to a good extent. "Help me not to doubt!"

Redeemed and Remade

"The important thing that I learned is that for a Christian nothing is wasted in this life: no bad decision, no vocational change, no personal failure." - Keith Miller, Habitation of Dragons

I can't ask others to share their stories if I don't share mine. It's not an easy story. There was a lot of pain, but what counts is the end result.

I was baptized and grew up in a Christian home and in the church. My parents sent me to Christian schools. There was never any doubt that God existed or that he had created the universe. (I think our first memory verse in 1st grade was Genesis 1:1 - "In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.") It was an objective fact.

We learned Bible stories alongside math, English, and history. It was objective truth: creation, fall, flood, Abraham's journeys, Joseph in Egypt, Moses vs. Pharaoh, the judges and kings of Israel, the birth and life and resurrection of Jesus, the stories of the early church.

The big thing was that God had handed down 10 Big Laws that we were supposed to live by. At the same time, the law declared us all sinners. As I understood it, your safest bet was to follow the rules as closely as possible in hopes of pleasing God, pretend that you followed them perfectly in hopes of not being judged by others, and hope that in the end you had more good points than bad ones so you'd get into heaven. That's what I thought as a child, and that's how I lived most of my life.

Jesus died for our sins, because otherwise God would have to send us all to hell for breaking just one rule. We called it grace, but it seemed to be about following rules, sucking up to God, and avoiding condemnation by others - especially church people. As my mother repeated like a mantra, "What will others think?" You had to look good. Your wins had to outnumber your loses. You had to score more points than the other team. Such is the thinking of a child.

Excited About God

It was the summer of 1974 that I first noticed people who were passionate for God. It blew me away. I attended a denomination-wide youth conference, and there was something different about some of the people. They were enthusiastic, excited even. I knew that I wanted it, although I didn't know how to get it.

That fall I made public profession of faith, not because I had that kind of faith, but because I wanted to. I knew my catechism and passed my examination by the elders. I became a "full member" of the church at 16, which was very unusual in our church at that time. (It was generally done en masse by high school seniors as a kind of graduation exercise. Parents got very worried about the eternal destiny of their children if they didn't make profession of faith by 20.)

I grew in my faith. I shared a bit of how God had become more real in my life. I was more enthusiastic about God and faith and religious things. And when I went to Trinity Christian College in the fall of 1976, I gravitated to those who were enthusiastic for God - which meant that most of them were not from the same background. They were Baptist, Lutheran, Presbyterian, Catholic, Reformed, Seventh Day Adventist, Bible Church, etc. We shared life together, often spending time with each other in the dining hall for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and times in between.

My family moved "back home" to Grand Rapids (MI) in 1978, and I transferred to Calvin College. I attended Fellowship Chapel and Calvin Christian Fellowship in my search for meaningful faith. I rejoined my old church for a time, spent a year or so attending another one, and finally joined a different one looking for authentic worship. For many years I was part of that congregation's worship committee, working to take old liturgical forms and adapt them to a contemporary setting.

Over the years, I learned to lift my hands in worship - not part of my background. I learned to pray in public, even though I was spiritually dry most of the time. I knew how to be religious, I knew how to follow my convictions, I knew enough that I thought I did know enough. I got involved with the charismatic renewal, which strengthened my faith and helped me feel still closer to God, but through it all I always felt closest through song.

I understood the Bible and theology. I knew our Dutch Reformed tradition. I was passionate about church and faith. I knew that I belonged to God.

The End

I didn't have a clue how far I really was from God - or how far my wife felt from me. I saw inklings that something was wrong in the summer of 2003, and she let me have it in October: She had reached the point where she no longer loved me, no longer cared to be with me, and considered our marriage dead. Not damaged, not in need of repair, but dead.

I hadn't seen that coming, and I was devastated and alone. She had never taken the time to share her concerns with me, although thanks to Internet chat rooms she had shared her feelings, her fears, and her frustrations with her online friends. She had built a support system that, as she later told me, would support her whatever her decision and across the board recommended that she not take the path of divorce.

In one of those cosmic quirks, my passion for Linda had been reignited in May. I loved her, was committed to her, and was in love with her. I tried to rekindle the romance, but nothing worked. She had spent years building her business away from home, living much of her life away from the family, and she'd already decided on some level to shut me out. I was frustrated by my inability to reach her, but we didn't believe in divorce, so there was time to get past it.

Wrong. As I was trying to grow closer - and perhaps because I was - she was shutting me out. That October day when she dropped the bombshell shattered my entire world. I had loved her and allowed her to be the most important person in my life. Our marriage was the relationship that defined me. And she said it no longer existed.

I have never known such emotional pain, such confusion, such frustration, such a sense of loss, such isolation in my life. I responded very poorly, because I was afraid, angry, and lost.

To top it off, she left on a two-week trip to attend a conference and then visit online friends. She dropped this on me and left me to deal with it alone for two weeks. After 22 years of marriage, she ran away. I remember going to church on Sunday with all of this swirling around inside me.

When we pulled into the parking lot, I lost it. We had gone to church together since our college days, and going without her brought everything to a head. I broke down in tears, shaking, and finally managed to ask the boys to find Margie Moore, the minister of congregational life. She came, helped me out of the van, and walked me into the building. We spent the next hour or so together in the church library while the congregation worshiped. I was broken, but Margie's presence let me know that I was not alone.

Purpose

On October 12, 2003 we began working through The Purpose Driven Life at church. It could not have come at a better time. After the week I'd been through alone, it was the lifeline I needed.

Chapter 2, "You Are Not an Accident", reached deep down inside my broken heart. Here are a few underlined sections from my copy of the book, which I try to reread every year:

• Your parents may not have planned you, but God did.
• You are alive because God wanted to create you.
• God left no detail to chance.
• God's purpose took into account human error, and even sin.
• You were created as a special object of God's love! God made you so he could love you.

As I came to summarize it: God planned me, made me, knows everything about me, and still loves me. No failure would change that. I was loved by someone who would never stop loving me. I was not alone.

For the first time in my life, I began to understand that reality. God didn't just exist and give us rules and provide an escape from sin - God loved me, warts and all.

Not to say that I didn't lose perspective now and again as I tried to pick up the pieces of a shattered life, do therapy, and try to rebuild what Linda said was dead. She was right - the marriage was dead. Although I loved her, she had grown cold and no longer cared about me. It took months for that to sink in, and I remember very clearly telling her that I was willing to do anything to make our marriage work - but if she wouldn't invest in it, I couldn't continue working toward an impossible goal.

She took some time to think about that and finally acknowledged that she was not willing to do that. The relationship that had defined my life was finished. We worked out the terms of our divorce, filed, and brought that phase of life to a clear end.

I had some pity parties along the way, mourning my loss, temporarily forgetting the new love I had found from the God who planned me, made me, knew me, and still loved me. That was the new reality on which I built my life.

New Lives for Old

In gratitude to God and as an expression of my newfound faith, I was baptized by immersion in May 2005. God has washed away the old, and I was born into a new life. I shared my testimony with the church:

I lived my life fearing that I would be judged a failure and rejected. I dealt with that by excelling in my work, following the rules, and keeping others at a distance.

If I never let them close, they couldn't hurt me much.

That included God. I followed him according to my own understanding. That meant obeying God's rules like a legalist - I didn't want to give him a reason to reject me.

I've had very few close relationships. When my marriage ended, I discovered that I was so defined by it that I no longer knew who I was.

I felt lost, alone, hopeless.

When I hit rock bottom, I found that I had never been alone - God was with me. Jesus understood my rejection. The Father held me in his arms. The Spirit breathed new life into me.

The truth that God will never abandon me was the lifeline I could cling to against despair.

I had been lost. God found me and told me he that knew me, accepted me, loved me. God's love has humbled me, healed me, remade me.

My baptism today is a testament to God's faithfulness.

Since learning that God made me to love me, not to judge me, nothing has been the same. I have been blessed with new friends, new relationships, a new wife, new passions, and new ministries. I was rescued from my fears and a new life was built on the rubble of the old one.

I have been redeemed and remade.

Thanks be to God!

Put Love First

"...I began to see the trap 'honesty' can be. It had become my highest value - 'honesty at any cost.' This meant that I worshiped honesty." - Keith Miller, Habitation of Dragons

"If he [was honest] for the sake of having a good conscience, he would become a Pharisee and cease to be a truly moral person. I think that even saints did not care for anything other than simply to serve God, and I doubt that they ever had it in mind to become saints. If that were the case, they would have become only perfectionists rather than saints." - Viktor Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning

"Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind. And love your neighbor as you love yourself." - Jesus in Luke 10:27 (God's Word)

They say that the good can be the enemy of the best. It's a struggle the church and God's people have struggled with forever. We build our theologies, our moral systems, our organizational structures, our worship services, our devotional time, and one thing stands out as the thing - the most important thing, the ideal that overshadows all others.

In Habitation of Dragons, Keith Miller points out how "total honesty" can become our god. Honesty is good, but when it becomes our highest value, it trumps love. "Total honesty" isn't a concept the Bible promotes, yet it is one the church often teaches.

It sounds so good. What could be wrong with speaking the pure truth?

Corrie ten Boom

There are times when speaking the whole objective truth isn't the loving thing to do. One example comes to mind, something that has always seemed both noble and unsettling to me. In The Hiding Place, Corrie ten Boom tells how her family hid Jews in the crawl space beneath their kitchen. There was a secret door under a rug under the kitchen table, and when the Nazis ask her where they were hiding Jews, she believed she has no choice but to speak the literal truth: "Under the kitchen table."

And then she laughed.

It was obvious to the German soldiers that nobody was under the table, and ten Boom had a clear conscience. She had, after all, spoken the absolute truth while trusting God to take care of things. Two things about this disturb me: ten Boom doesn't seem to be speaking the truth in love but out of fear, and her laughter turned the literal truth into a lie.

I am not faulting her for what she did. Corrie ten Boom was a saint who loved the Jews and saved many from the death camps. She trusted God with her life. It was her slavish devotion to being "totally honest" that disturbed me first, and her mocking that truth through laughter that seemed both clever and disturbing. If honesty is the highest value, laughing it off like that is the moral equivalent of lying.

Still, it worked, and it's possible that ten Boom was so averse to speaking even a partial untruth that a lie would have been obvious to the soldiers, so she did the mental gymnastics, spoke the objective truth, and misled with a laugh.

The True Church

I grew up in a denomination that had separated from another denomination when it saw the truth of the gospel being compromised - men whose beliefs were outside the realm of the Reformed confessions were allowed to preach freely, while those who said that they were wrong were told to be silent. This situation wasn't much different from the one Martin Luther had faced centuries earlier.

Ever since the Reformation divided the holy catholic church in Europe, the concept of the true church has played a huge role. If the church contradicted the clear teachings of Scripture, it had embraced the lie and become a false church. And the Reformed fathers knew exactly how to define the true church:

1. Teaching sound doctrine
2. Right administration of the sacraments
3. Right administration of discipline

They knew exactly what doctrine was sound, exactly how the sacraments should be administered, and exactly how church members with moral failings should be disciplined. And any time a denomination allowed any preacher to teach anything different or added another teaching to that exact set of doctrine, dissenters had the right and obligation to condemn it, try to change it, remove themselves from it, and purify the church.

And that's why there are so many brands of Christianity today, especially here in North America. This group left that group over some issue. Later on, another group left the first, and then another group splintered off. Two groups decided to unite - but some couldn't compromise and remained true to whatever issue it was that had been so important 100 years earlier.

I remember meeting with a local pastor from a small Reformed denomination who firmly believed that any church that didn't adhere to Reformed confessions and the unmodified Church Order of Dort was less than true - and, as believers, we had an obligation to only align ourselves with the most true church we could find.

The church, once divided over grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone, is now broken over baptism, Bible translations, free will, hymns, musical instruments, spiritual gifts, women's roles, abortion, homosexuality, alcohol, tobacco, movies, gambling, racism, church order, technology, and the end times.

The Danger of Being Right

Complete devotion to truth and honesty - who could oppose that?

Jesus, for one. The rabbis had taken the Book of the Law and analyzed it, dissected it, put it under the microscope, and defined exactly how many steps constituted working on the Sabbath.

Where they wrong to define observance of the law as precisely as possible? Are we wrong to define truth as precisely as possible?

The law is good. Truth is good. Honesty is good. Accuracy is good. But none of these are gods, nor is blind devotion to them a path to God. If anything, they may feed our pride and make us less loving.

The law is good, but not because it makes us righteous or right with God. The law is good because it shows us where we fall short and need grace - not more self-discipline - to be right with God. And the law is good because it shows how we should respond to God's love and the grace bestowed upon us.

The truth is good, but not because it brings us to God. The truth is good because it's a measuring stick - and because God hates lying lips. Jesus said, "I am the Truth." God is Truth, and God's truth convicts us of unrighteousness and draws us to his love. There is a truth more important than "the truth".

The Mark of the Church

Love is the mark of God's children and of the church. The book of Acts records how the believers loved each other and made sure everyone's needs were met. In the third century, Tertullian wrote: "But it is mainly the deeds of a love so noble that lead many to put a brand upon us. See, [those outside the church] say, how they love one another...." (Apology 29:7)

The world tends to view the church in a different light today - many see us as judgmental and controlling. They don't see us as a people of peace, love, and open arms.

Why? Because the church has been strident. It has used its power to condemn fellow believers. It has used its power to shape societies and legislate morality. Over the last 150 years, "the church" has opposed slavery, alcohol, theater, women in the workplace, rock and roll, abortion, drugs, and homosexuality. In doing so, it often has judged and not loved slave owners, drinkers, theater goers, working women, rockers, abortion providers and recipients, drug users, and homosexuals.

As though Jesus didn't come to save the lost.

The true church is known for love - God's love for the world, our love for God, his love within each of us, the love we have for each other, and the love we have for those who don't know God's love.

Truth and honesty are important, but the truth should always be spoken with love among us (Eph. 4:15). Sound doctrine is important, but we need to love those who disagree with us. We should never make the church so pure that it becomes anticeptic, sterile, judgmental, and condemning.

"If I had the gift of prophecy, and if I understood all of God's secret plans and possessed all knowledge, and if I had such faith that I could move mountains, but didn't love others, I would be nothing." 1 Cor. 13:2 (NLT)

"All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely.
"Three things will last forever - faith, hope, and love - and the greatest of these is love.
"Let love be your highest goal!" 1 Cor. 13:12b-14:1a (NLT)

"Most important of all, continue to show deep love for each other, for love covers a multitude of sins." - 1 Peter 4:8 (NLT)

The good can be the enemy of the best. If you find yourself putting anything ahead of loving God and your neighbor, remember that love is the best and keep "the good" in perspective.