Your world is a lie.
In the year 2199, the human race lost its bitter, drawn-out war against the machines, but not before delivering one grievous parting shot. They scorched the skies and blotted out the sun, the machines’ primary power source. Enraged, the machines took advantage of a different power source: the human race itself. One by one, they plugged the humans into a virtual reality designed to mimic the height of our civilization. The simulation was so real, so convincing, that the humans forgot about the war, forgot about the outside world, and carried on living their imaginary lives filled with imaginary things. Generations passed while their captors quietly harvested energy from their comatose bodies.
But a few people saw through the ruse. They found a way to disconnect themselves from the simulation and began a resistance, slowly helping others to unplug and join the war against the machines.
It sounds absurd, of course. Clearly the world around you is real. But…what is real? How do you define “real”? If you’re talking about what you can feel, what you can smell, what you can taste and see, then “real” is simply electrical signals interpreted by your brain.
Do you think that’s air you’re breathing?
* * *
You might recognize the preceding description as the plot of The Matrix, a blockbuster from the late ’90s. In fact, much of the last two paragraphs is a direct quotes from Morpheus, one of the movie’s main characters. In the movie, Morpheus offers a hacker named Neo a choice between a red pill and a blue pill—a choice between seeing the truth and forgetting about it. “You take the blue pill,” he tells Neo, “the story ends. You wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill, you stay in Wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes.” Neo chooses the red pill and finds himself yanked out of the Matrix and in control of his physical body for the very first time.
As the movie continues, Neo meets the rest of the resistance—a group of rebels dedicated to waging war against their robotic overlords, within the Matrix and without. One of the rebels, Cypher, greets Neo with the infamous line: “I know what you’re thinking, ’cause right now I’m thinking the same thing. Actually, I’ve been thinking it ever since I got here: Why oh why didn’t I take the blue pill?”
Now, before I go any further, let me slap a giant disclaimer on this whole post. We’re talking about a rated-R action movie, here. I spent a long time debating whether I should even post this blog, because I don’t want to seem like I’m endorsing this movie. I’m not—and if you haven’t already seen it, I’m certainly not suggesting that you should. But I watched it over a decade ago, and since that time, there’s one incredible analogy I haven’t been able to forget.
That’s what I want to talk about today—not the movie itself; just one single character:
Cypher, who wanted to forget. Cypher, who regretted knowing the truth. Cypher, who fought the machines out of a sense of obligation, who secretly wanted nothing more than for things to go back to the way they were.
In one of the movie’s pivotal scenes, Cypher arranges a secret rendezvous with an agent of the machines. They meet inside a virtual restaurant, where Cypher enjoys a virtual steak while striking a deal to betray his friends in exchange for reintegration into the Matrix. During this scene, Cypher looks at his steak and remarks, “You know, I know this steak doesn’t exist. I know that when I put it in my mouth, the Matrix is telling my brain that it is juicy and delicious. After nine years, you know what I realize?” He pauses to take a bite of the steak before finishing: “Ignorance is bliss.”
Cypher wanted the lie. Even with his eyes open to the truth, Cypher was begging for deception. He desperately wanted to unlearn the things which, for the past nine years, had made his life miserable.
Is any of this sounding familiar? A deceived world, a small group of people given the ability to see through the lie, an impossibly powerful enemy, and a mission fraught with danger and personal sacrifice?
That’s right—the same phrases can describe the Christian calling as well. Satan has deceived the whole world (Revelation 12:9), many are called but few are chosen (Matthew 20:16), our adversary commands “spiritual hosts of wickedness in heavenly places” (Ephesians 6:12), and a small group of faithful men and women have been tasked with exposing that lie and taking a stand against the devil himself (Mark 16:15; Ephesians 6:13).
There’s a major war going on, and you’re in the middle of it—but why?
None of us came to Christ without God first drawing us to Him (John 6:44), so it’s not like you volunteered to be called. God opened your mind to the truth, but the question is, why are you fighting this battle? Is it because you believe in the mission, or because you don’t believe you have a choice?
In other words, do you regret learning the truth?
Some people do. Some people are like Cypher, resentful of having their eyes opened, resentful of the truth itself. They accept it because they cannot deny it, but they hate how it limits them. The Sabbath is a burden. Honesty is a burden. Integrity is a burden.
They obey, but they’d much rather forget.
Here’s the thing, though: You can forget. Satan can’t take your calling from you, but he can convince you to give it up. Like the agent in Cypher’s clandestine meeting, our adversary is eager to help you reintegrate into his deceptions, and only too happy to help you forget all those difficult truths holding you back.
People do it all the time. You’ve probably seen it yourself—people who walk away from their calling and, in a year’s time, can’t remember the order of the Holy Days or even what they represent. They’ve reintegrated. They’ve embraced the lie because it was easier than holding on to the truth.
Regarding the faithful men and women who fought this battle before us, the author of Hebrews notes that “if they had called to mind that country from which they had come out, they would have had opportunity to return” (Hebrews 11:15). Either your calling is precious to you or it isn’t. And if it’s not—if the Word of God becomes your burden instead of your blessing—then it’s only a matter of time before you let go and fade back into the Matrix.
Jesus promised, “You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free” (John 8:32). But not everyone wants to be free. Some people prefer the chains of self-deception—they’re easier and they require less from you.
There are treasures buried deep with your calling, but you have to want them. They have to matter to you. You have to know what you’re fighting for and why it matters—because the blue pill never really goes away. Satan will always be right around the corner, hand outstretched, offering you the chance to “wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe.” You can always go back to the country from which you came.
That verse in Hebrews goes on to say that the faithful men and women of ages past didn’t turn back because they had their eyes on “a better, that is, a heavenly country. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared a city for them” (Hebrews 11:16).
You could forget. You could throw it all away. But as for me…I’m eager to see just how deep this rabbit hole goes. I hope you are, too.
Until next time,