Crossing KCU

Mary Jane, Materialism, and the Matrix

The first thing I did when I arrived back home was to sit down with my parents and tell them everything that had been going on in my life for the previous year. I told them about how I had been doing drugs, and how I had spent the last summer moving from one party to the next. But more importantly, I told them how lost I felt and how confused I was all the time. I told them that I knew God was the only one who could help me make sense out of my life. I told them everything. Then I asked them to leave me alone for a few weeks, and to tell anyone who wanted to talk to me that I was unavailable. In this way I shut myself off from the outside world as much as I possibly could.

For the next few weeks I would begin each day by getting up with the sunrise, sitting on my front porch, and delving deep into the Gospels. As I did this, I began really seeing into the life of Jesus Christ. I didn’t just read the Bible, I consumed it, and I asked God to speak to me through it. There was one thing that Jesus said, which spoke to me above everything else during that time: “For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it” Luke 9:24. It was something he said in all four of the Gospels, and as I read those words, I began for the first time, to understand what life was meant to be. I had been exposed to the teachings of Christianity from childhood, so I was sure that I had encountered this saying of Jesus at some point or another during the course of my early life, and probably more than once. It was easy to remember those stories in the Bible that I found interesting as a kid; stories about the slaying of giants, or where one guy takes on a whole army by himself, or the time when another guy gets swallowed by a whale and then puked back up a few days later. But aside from that, I couldn’t really remember hearing these simple words about losing your life for Christ when I was growing up. But I will always remember those few weeks after dropping out of K.C.U. when, as I encountered and digested these words for the first time, and honestly contemplated the true meaning of them, I knew they were real and vitally important to me.

There I was, reading this statement from Christ that said if I wanted to live, then I had to die, and that if I didn’t die I couldn’t ever really be alive. Maybe it was because a part of me already wanted to die anyway, but these words impacted me in a very powerful way. I now knew that believing Christ wasn’t something that could be done half way. It was everything or nothing at all.

While all of this was going on inside of me on a spiritual level, I still had to deal with the physical world. The first few weeks back home had been a really quiet time for me. I took no phone calls and did not venture out of the house all that much.

The first person outside my house that I began speaking and hanging out with was my old friend Seth. We had grown up together and he was probably the closest thing I ever had to a best friend when I was in high school. We had lost contact with each other during that first year of college, and by the time we met up again we were both different people. Ironically, Seth had experienced a lot of the same things as I had during that previous year. We both had a lot of things to talk about, and from a spiritual point of view, we were definitely on the same page. But the best thing about Seth, was that he really knew how to cheer people up, and this was important for a guy like me that was struggling to crawl out of a depression. However, Seth had a really good friend that helped him as he went around cheering people up; She went by several names, but some of them are Mary Jane, Bud, Weed, Pot, Green, Ganja, Cannabis, etc… you get the idea. The very first time I talked to Seth after dropping out of school he brought along a joint for us to smoke.

As I began hanging out with Seth more and more, I also began smoking pot quite a bit. The thing about weed was that it was relatively easy for us to acquire because so many people we knew were smoking it. But more than that, I found that I really enjoyed it. For me it was like taking an antidepressant because it made me feel really happy about my life, and I could even look introspectively at myself and think through some of my issues without getting upset. For this reason weed rapidly became a major influence in my life. I knew that it wasn’t something I could keep doing perpetually, but for a time I really didn’t care about any harmful effects it might have on my life. I guess in my mind at the time, the only thing that really made it out to be somewhat of a risk was the fact that it was illegal. I’m not trying to say that smoking pot is a good thing; but it took me a long time to realize that there was anything negative about it at all.

A month or so after I came back home from college, I decided to take a job which had just sort of fallen into my lap. Another friend of mine named Jake who I knew from the old high school youth group was working for a local newspaper, and he ended up getting me a position there. It turned out to be a really good job. The best part about it was that two of my other close friends came to work there as well. The four of us had all grown up together and had gone to the same church and high school. Now we were all district managers in the county newspaper’s circulation department, which didn’t make any sense because we were all college drop outs, heavy weed smokers, and none of us cared that much about the actual jobs we had to do. Regardless, we were paid extremely well, given free pagers and cell phones, expense accounts for lunch, and we were reimbursed for gas mileage since most of our time was spent out in the field away from the office. That worked out pretty well also because it meant that most of the day there was no one watching over us. We were basically paid to drive around and smoke pot all day.

Of course this was not destined to last for very long. The next spring we all lost our jobs when the paper was bought out by a very large national conglomerate. It didn’t take long for our new bosses to realize there were a bunch of potheads running their circulation department. But losing the job wasn’t that big of a deal. I think we were all ready to move on. I believe now that it was a very good thing that I lost that job; if I hadn’t things might have turned out much different for me.
_______

Within just a week or two of losing our jobs at the newspaper, a friend and I went to see a movie that changed my life. We had received an awesome severance package from the newspaper, which meant that for the next few weeks we had more money than we knew what to do with. For us that translated into a lot of smoking, a lot of fine dining, and a lot of time at the movies.

I heard a preacher once talk about how good movies can often define the mood of the generation that produces it and is coming of age at the time. He said it could even highlight something profound and perhaps even spiritual that large numbers of people can relate to and use to find meaning. He cited some examples like Saturday Night Fever in the 70’s, and The Breakfast Club in the 80’s. I think he was on to something there, and if so, then the movie that I went to see on Easter weekend of 1999 has since become that for our generation. That movie is The Matrix. There were a couple of sequels that came out a few years later, but the first installment is the one that people always talk about.

For those who aren’t familiar with it, the quick synopsis goes like this: a guy named Neo, played by Keanu Reeves, is living a lonely life, stuck in a routine 9 to 5 job. As he trudges through the motions of his mundane life, one day he is approached by people who tell him that the world he lives in is all fake. They tell him that he is meant for something much greater, and that his life is worth far more than what he has been taught to believe. Eventually Neo has to choose between a meaningless but safe and comfortable life of illusion, or a dangerous and gritty life of purpose and truth. A man named Morpheus, played by Laurence Fishburne, is Neo’s teacher, guide, and mentor. The important thing about Morpheus, is that he believes 100% in his student, and instead of teaching Neo with mere words only, he walks and fights beside him, training him by example. The villains of the story are three government agents that are enslaved to following and enforcing a system of rules and laws without the capacity for compassion or noncompliance.

As with many people that are my age and younger, this movie touched me on a very deep level. I found a lot of resonance with the character and plight of Neo, searching for his place in the world; knowing he could do something important, or at least meaningful, but not sure how to get there, and feeling trapped and enslaved by the world around him that most people view as the only way to live.

This was a lot like where I was at during that point in my life. Since dropping out of college, I had begun to get a sense of what it meant to live a more meaningful life, but I still didn’t know how to really do that. While that’s what I wanted to do with all my heart, the only thing I seemed to be doing was getting trapped in the web of the world. Smoking pot was a part of that because over time it produced the effect of tranquilizing me into the mundane routine of working and making money, and thinking that I needed to drive a nice car, get my own place, and fill my life with material possessions. But even without numbing myself with marijuana, the whole society around me was encouraging me to seek after these things. This is what I refer to as the syndrome of pursuing “The American Dream.”

I guess the main thing I was dealing with in my life at that time was how to reconcile what I was learning in scripture from the teachings of Christ, with what I was doing in my life. In other words, I was trying to figure out exactly how to conform my own life, to the kind of life that Christ was talking about in the Gospels. I would read passages like this: “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters – yes, even his own life – he cannot be my disciple. And anyone who does not carry his cross and follow me cannot be my disciple” Luke 14:26-27. That’s a pretty difficult passage to understand, and I would read where Christ said this kind of thing, and then I would ask him to show me what that meant, and how I was supposed to live accordingly.

There were some Christians at the time who would accuse me of not really being a Christian because I was smoking pot or something like that. But the more I read the New Testament the more I began to see that being a Christian meant following after Christ, which was something much different than just trying to act the right way or follow the right rules. God’s grace was what allowed me to keep moving forward everyday, even when I messed up and did something that I knew was wrong. The point was that my heart now belonged to him, and there was nothing that could stand in the way of that.

I began each day by asking him to lead me, and every day he led me in a series of experiences that caused me to die a little more. And every day when I woke up, I felt more and more like I was alive. There was a lot of pain involved in this continual process of dying. After all, it hurts to die. But the life he gave to me in return was enough to keep me following after him with all that I had. Whenever I felt like things were too much, or I felt down, or depressed, Christ would speak to me through verses like this: “My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me” John 10:27. And slowly, I began to change. The change took a long time, and even now, many years later, it is still going on. That’s part of the beauty of following Christ; there is always more to learn and something else that needs to change, and something new to gain; it is never supposed to become just the same old routine.

While I was still struggling to figure things out for myself, I spent the next several months drifting around my hometown looking for jobs, but not finding any. Every time I went out job hunting or I thumbed through the classified ads in the newspaper, I would get this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, almost like I was doing something wrong. Eventually I quit hanging out with my friends and went off by myself into the woods for awhile. Looking back on that time now, I think I was beginning to go a little insane. I knew I had to do something with my life, I just didn’t know what it was. One day near the end of the summer, as I was lying in my tent in the woods, I cried out in desperation to God once again, “God, what the hell do you want me to do with this life… I’m waiting for you to speak to me… please show me what to do.”
_______

The following week, Seth and I were having dinner at a deli one evening. We had gone to high school with the girl who was the manager, so we would go there now and then to get free pizzas, soup, and sandwiches. That’s what we were doing when we received a call from our friend Derek. He had been in some trouble recently, and had been busted for underage drinking, and then subsequently violated his parole by failing a drug test. To make a long story short, he was calling because the police were on their way over to pick him up and take him to prison for a couple of months, and he wanted us to get him high before he went in. For some reason, not the least of which being that we were already stoned out of our minds, we decided to head over to his house and oblige him.

I still remember that night quite vividly. We were in our friend Dan’s Buick with the windows down to let the night air wash in over us. Seth was stretched out in the back seat, and I was comfortable in the passenger seat. The euphoria from being high was rolling over our minds like a comfortable massage as Lenny Kravitz played in the background, smoothing out the rough edges of our thoughts… “I want to get away… I want to flyyyyyy awayyyy… yeah, yeah, yeah…”

“Yeah,” I was echoing in my mind as Seth lit up the weed pipe so we could all pass it around the car for a few more hits before we got to Derek’s house.

As we pulled into the driveway, Seth hopped out of the car and ran into the house. Dan and I were staying in the car because Seth was just going to give Derek a joint and leave. We didn’t want to be around when the cops showed up.

Of course that was about the time that red and blue lights started flashing in the rearview mirror as the county sheriff came rolling into the driveway right behind us. Neither Dan nor I said a word to each other. We were too much in shock. All we could do was sit there and watch the police officer get out of his car and walk up to the Buick with his flashlight pointing right at us.

“Evening, gentlemen,” said the officer as he leaned down to look us both directly in our bloodshot eyes. “Are either of you the one we’re here to take into custody?”

“No officer,” Dan blurted out frantically. “We haven’t done anything. We’re just hanging out. We’re not doing anything.” He was shaking a little bit, trying to contain the fear that was shooting through both of us.

“Derek is in the house waiting for you. We’re just a couple of friends who came here to see him off,” I somehow managed to get out, scared to death that he was on to us.

The officer abruptly straightened up, lowered his flashlight and stuck his free hand into Dan’s window. “Could you boys give me your licenses please?”

“We’re screwed,” I thought as we fumbled around in our wallets for our licenses, then handed them over as the cop took them and went back to his car. A few seconds later he crossed the front yard and went up to the door of the house. As he disappeared inside I leaned my head back in the seat and prayed. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but it was something to the effect of, “God, if you get me out of this situation I will do whatever you want…” It was the desperate prayer of a desperate man.

During the ten minutes that we were waiting there for that cop to come out and put us in cuffs, I was thinking back over the events of that year. I didn’t really have much to show for it. I had grown closer to God. I knew that, but at the same time I felt that I was somehow getting lost again. I had come out of the prison of frustration and depression, but I was now caught up in something that seemed much more dangerous. The world was breathing down on me, I was sinking into a swamp of delusion, and unable to find the solid footing I needed to get out. The pot thing was just one part of it. Even more insidious was the drug of materialism, tempting me to have a taste wherever I went. I had a new car, and a cell phone, and I was thinking about getting my own place. But what was I trading away to get those things? What was I really living my life for anyway? I had known for awhile that I needed to get away from all this crap. I had to run away again. But where could I go? Perhaps it was now too late. Perhaps I was going to jail this night and I would no longer have any choice in the matter.

The police officer came back out of the house. He had Derek in handcuffs, and he led him over to the cruiser and helped him in. Then he walked over to us. “Here’s your licenses back gentlemen. You all have a good evening now,” and he smiled as he got into his car. We watched silently as he pulled away, catching the last look on Derek’s face as he went off to prison, thanking God that it wasn’t us in that car.

Seth reemerged from the house and climbed back into the Buick. None of us really knew what to say, but I think Dan uttered the thing that we were all thinking. “God was the only one who kept us from going to jail tonight.” I knew he was right.
_______

A few weeks later I packed my stuff up again, and I headed back to Grayson, Kentucky and the Christian school that I had been so eager to get away from just a year earlier. Looking back on it now, I’m not sure I had any direct leading from God to go back. All I really had at the time was a strong desire to get away from the world. Whatever I had endured and experienced when I was at the school before, was nothing compared to the junk I was dealing with now. I knew that God had used the situation with the police officer to get my attention and wake me up. And as I went away from the experience, and looked at the options in front of me, going back to college was the only door that stood open to me. There was literally no other option. I think that’s how God ultimately answered my prayer, as I kept asking him what he wanted me to do—he literally made it impossible for me to do anything but go back to Kentucky.

So I went. I knew there would be struggles ahead, but I also knew that I was better prepared to deal with those things now. I had learned the most important thing after all… God loved me, was with me, and all I had to do was follow him. Everything else would work itself out.

“My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand.”—John 10:27-28.