Let’s try a little time-travel-ish Christian fiction-writer’s muse, shall we?
Imagine before you three doors. (I love the first Matrix movie (1999) but let’s be real; although the concept of blue pill vs. red pill has become othodoxically lexiconical (hey, did he just coin two non-words in one sentence?) it borrowed some of its mojo from an even more Boomerish, Twentieth century meme: the game show, Let’s Make a Deal (1963+) which featured three doors, which are not to be confused with the ‘90s rock band, Three Doors Down, which was kind of a little culturally Christianish in its early years; at least maybe sort of.)
Door number one is an empty frame. Behind it is whatever you know and love right now. (In that, it’s a bit like the blue pill.) That future may go sour in a big hurry (as it seems to be doing) or more slowly, or it may turn around; you can’t know; the “prize” behind door number one is continuity with the present; not as bad as it could be, but not as good either—however you define good.
Door number two leads back to America’s halcyon days. (Foreign readers: interpret that as you wish.) The only ‘catch’ is that you aren’t allowed to change the past, and those days must be post-war: after VE (Victory-in-Europe) Day—May 8, 1945. Other than that, you’re free to hop on the timeline anywhere you like.
Surf a rising tide with the demographic wind in your sails as you invest in real estate or build a business; be a cultural icon as the ‘60s break out. Graduate into Reagan’s morning-in-America and play liar’s poker on Wall Street. Join the Moral Majority and do moralish stuff. Enjoy being a citizen of the most powerful, secure, technologically innovative, economically prosperous, tolerant, pluralistic, progressive, Christian-ish-values-professing ‘nice’ nation the world has ever known during its Boomer heyday.
Win the Cold War. Invent the Internet. Even through some of the darker heavier bits, like Vietnam and the 1970s, the future seems so bright that you have to wear shades. By the time it all goes bad, you’ll be in your dotage with a big retirement fund and (if it’s your thing) a nice “faith community” that doesn’t bug you too much.
Door number three leads to a temporal hellscape. The time is… some undetermined point in the future. Every form of infrastructure (energy, transport, communications, financial markets and payment systems) that has not collapsed outright is sketchy and regional, on its last legs; unreliable at best. 17th-century third world is more typical.
Major institutions (military; police; schools; legislatures; elections; healthcare) have been totally corrupted. Bribery is unapologetic and blatant; out in the open. Personal security, food security, and clean water: all are rare. Inflation has blown away savings. People are sick, dying in droves; infant mortality is through the roof. Think Haiti after the earthquake—but without American short-term mission-trippers coming to “help”.
Behind door number three, God has judged America, past tense and done; it’s over. Even those who don’t like to use the word ‘God’ knows it is true. We have become a taunt and a hissing. Worse: there’s nowhere to flee. The rest of the world is as bad or worse, a tyrannical zombie apocalypse. The camp of the saints seems surrounded.
Why on earth would I want to pick door number three? Good question. On earth, you wouldn’t. No one would. If your treasure were here, you would have to be insane to pick door number three. But the one bright thing behind this fanciful door number three that I’m hoping makes this choice tricky (providing a serious gut-check for us all!) is true widespread Christian revival.
Churches gather in caves, tents, shacks, and abandoned factories and they keep on multiplying. They do their best to feed their pastors, but that’s about all they can do. Pastors have gotten really good at doing funerals (often for martyrs), but they’re also doing so many baptisms that their skin seems perpetually puckered. Wave after wave of converts hit the proverbial beach; as one pastor is martyred, three sprout up in his place and preach with Spurgeon-like clarity and Spirit power.
The tyrannists can’t keep up; the jails are full of folks singing hymns and converting the worst-of-the-worst lifer criminals; executing so many Christians openly starts to bug PR handlers and the regime’s media toadies; so, they do more secret executions.
God’s people continually devote themselves to His Word, to fellowship, to the breaking of bread, and to prayer. Everyone keeps feeling a sense of awe. Those who believe flock together and have all things in common. Amidst unspeakable sorrow and suffering in the dystopian ruins of our civilization, it’s the book of Acts, on steroids.
If there is no fourth door, which one would you choose?
Very creative... loved it!
I think you are saying that we can each choose the road that we will take.
“Enter in at the narrow gate…”
There are many other doors out there.
What is the narrow gate and why is it so hard to find?