Red Pill

“And the angel said to me, take the scroll and eat it; in your mouth it will be as sweet as honey, but in your stomach as bitter as gall.” (Rev. 10:9)

In The Matrix, the main character is offered a choice between a red pill or blue pill. “If you take the blue pill you can continue to believe whatever you want, but your fate is sealed forever.” Too much to swallow? Not if you’ve already developed a taste for it! On the other hand, “if you take the red pill, and awaken to the implications of your false assumptions, you’ll need a deliverer.” As Jesus said:“For judgment I have come into the world, that the blind might see and that those who see might be made blind.” (Jn. 9:39) An oxymoron perhaps, but not for those who are perishing, while believing they’ve got it figured out. The cross therefore not only symbolizes the crux of the matter, but an intersection between heaven and earth, with salvation an open door into another dimension. Yet, hidden in plain sight as it were, it can represent an almost insurmountable obstacle for those focused solely on self. As God said: “I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and the intelligence of the intelligent I will frustrate.” (1 Cor. 1:18)

While Jesus preached a gospel of salvation and deliverance for those who could receive it, the gift of salvation can be a bitter pill. And even while “a little sugar makes the medicine go down, once taken it begins to purge one’s soul, and with it the gradual realization of one’s predicament in extricating themselves from the delusion that physical existence is the center of gravity. Even as the Lord said: “The hour is coming when you will be scattered.” (Jn. 16:32) You may have heard that term applied to someone that isn’t grounded, and its applicable in this instance, as Christian theologist, Oswald Chamber’s offered, “scattered according to our own best interests (Silly crowns!), interests that were never found in Christ himself.” (Chambers)

Have we slept, while Jesus wept? Have we forgotten the reason for his meritorious sacrifice, that we might “go out unto the world, making disciples of all nations, teaching them everything I have commanded you?” (Mat. 28: 19-20) Are we acting like those who were called to a life of service on behalf of a spiritual kingdom, or have we become religious? As the apostle said: “For the gospel did not come to you in word only, but in power, and in the Holy Spirit…, (1 Thes. 1:5) enabling you to do those very things you might not do otherwise. The truth is that until Christ is made central in your life, until he is made Metropolitan in the sanctuary of your souls a vacancy yet remains, one that is easily back- filled by Satan .  

And so this is where we find ourselves. Those who might have done much, did little, preferring to leave the mercantile business of kingdom building to the pastoral office. Believers remained seated, while Christ has been peering over the parapet of heaven, restless and impatient with those overly confident in their own salvation, but at what cost. And as a consequence, a dearth of discipleship has resulted in a drought of spirituality. Offering anarchists and antichrists alike an open invitation to set the world on fire–because we didn’t! Yet truth be told, it can be a rather complicated process, this fire-starting, as gathering dry kindling is only the first step; you need a spark to create a flame, and the wind of the Holy Spirit to make a conflagration.

While the kingdom of grace commands we love one another, the world requires an altogether different fealty, an indemnity of servitude to a dead-end cause. And while many get the picture, the vast majority still get in line. Without further delay then, let the dirge begin. See the faithful as they file forward to kneel, with heads bowed and outstretched hands to receive, the sacramental offering–a little kindling for the funeral pyre and some kerosene for good measure. And as they chant death to faith, the interlocutor of Wokeness steps forward to offer the final benediction. “And when he painted the number on their heads with his brush, it was just like a priest anointing their brow.” (Dostoevsky)