It's more than a movie phenomenon. The eclectic spiritual world of The Matrix taps into our culture's deep longing for a savior.

By Greg Garrett and Chris Seay

We first entered The Matrix on Easter weekend, 1999. Some of us came for the adventure, the martial arts, the gritty vision of a bleak science-fiction future. Others came to see Keanu Reeves and Laurence Fishburne. All of us left blown away by the story, by the ideas - and, of course, by amazing images we had never before seen on film.

But we were captured by something much more significant than bullet-tracing special effects. The writers and directors of The Matrix, Larry and Andy Wachowski, also opened a spiritual dialogue and articulated the story of faith in ways none of us had expected.

In a world searching for common ground and a basis for peace, the Wachowski brothers have brought all of us together. The Matrix is the point of intersection where all of our stories collide. Buddhism meets Christianity. Homer's Odyssey meets Alice in Wonderland. These stories not only coexist in The Matrix, they blend together to create a story of spiritual pursuit. As Buddhism, Christianity, existentialism, Gnosticism, Plato and Derrida interact with one another, they encourage us to do the same.

The many myths, stories and ideas that appear in The Matrix and its sequels are obvious even to casual viewers. Richard Corliss, writing in Time magazine, first spotted the movie influences: science-fiction dystopias like Blade Runner and The Terminator, Japanese anime, Hong Kong action films (both the martial arts variety and John Woo gunplay). But Corliss noted that Larry and Andy Wachowski had a larger scope in mind, "to meld classic lit, hallucinogenic imagery, and a wild world of philosophical surmises to pop culture. The Bible meets Batman; Lewis Carroll collides with William Gibson; Greek and geek mythology bump and run." It is a film dense with metaphor and meaning and levels of allegory.

A hungry audience

To the surprise of many, millions of Matrix fans have wanted to examine the references, to consider the philosophy behind the films, to talk about the correspondences between the world inhabited by the movie's main character, Neo/Thomas Anderson (played by Keanu Reeves), and our own world. They contribute threads to on-line discussion boards. They talk about The Matrix in coffeehouses. And they explore it in church.

The movies have been taken up by the religious press too in ways few films have. A reviewer in Christianity Today picked it as one of 1999's best films. A writer in Books and Culture defended the film against charges of excessive violence. Stories at beliefnet.com have traced the correspondences between Neo and Jesus Christ. The Journal of Religion and Film has published several significant scholarly articles on The Matrix.

And interest shows no sign of slowing. Rather, with the film's two sequels, a richly detailed video game, and a series of animated short films, 2003 has been proclaimed "The Year of The Matrix," at least by a recent Newsweek cover.

The Matrix Reloaded and The Matrix Revolutions offer the same stunning features as the first film, including adventure in another world and remarkable technological breakthroughs. ("Virtual cinematography" promises to change the future of film even more than the much-copied "bullet time" from the first film.)

Some fans and reviewers have been disappointed in Reloaded, saying the special effects overwhelm and distract from the deeper story. Still the Wachowski brothers continue to address the Big Questions: What kind of Messiah will Neo be? What things will he be able to do - and willing to do - to rescue humankind from its fate in thrall to the machines?

Diverse spiritual references are in full force in the new films - from characters named Niobe, Ghost, Seraph, Persephone, and the Keymaker, to the good ship Logos. So are amazing action scenes: Neo fighting 100 Agent Smiths at once, Neo in 2,000-mile-per-hour flight, the insane freeway chase scene ending Reloaded that had even jaded Warner Brothers executives picking their jaws off the ground at a test-screening, and the 17-minute battle set in the "real world" at the end of Revolutions that producer Joel Silver says cost over $40 million to film.

When you add in the video game "Enter The Matrix," the breathtaking short films of The Animatrix, and the groundbreaking whatisthematrix.com website, it's clear that nothing like this has ever hit pop culture before. All these productions interact, expand the world of The Matrix, and explode our understanding of the stories.

Mythologist Joseph Campbell and filmmaker George Lucas both have said movies are our culture's new mythology. It's important to examine how popular films retell our old, old stories and represent our essential symbols and archetypes. In our book The Gospel Reloaded, we show how popular culture, mythology and world religions helped shape the Wachowski brothers' vision.

The Matrix films take us on a spiritual journey. The Wachowskis consciously created the character of Neo to tie into our deepest longing for deliverance. We all need a savior. Although we can't suggest that Neo is an adequate messiah in a theological sense, through Neo we can see the possibilities each of us has for spiritual growth.

But The Matrix movies teach us more than that. With a little thought and a little faith, the character of Neo can give us insight into some of the central mysteries of our faith. Through Neo we can learn about the Incarnation, the ministry of Christ, even the Resurrection. It's a crazy looking glass, to be sure. But if we look closely and focus our attention, we can see reflections of Jesus.

Neo, my own personal Jesus

Most people don't expect the Messiah to look, act or talk like Keanu Reeves. We have a hard time imagining that Jesus ever said, "Whoa!" But perhaps that's part of the point in casting Reeves - and the point of Neo's story. Messiahs may come where you least expect them and all of us have the capacity to grow and advance as spiritual beings.

The conversation between Cypher and Trinity that begins the action in the first Matrix movie gives us our first hint that someone special is out there.
"Morpheus believes he is the One," Trinity tells the cynical Cypher. And we're inclined to grant her some leeway after we see the way she can take out an armed police squad and fly across streetscapes. But still, it comes as something of a shock to look at the sleeping Thomas Anderson/Neo and connect her reverence with such an obviously imperfect vessel.

Yet it seems clear that the directors mean us to connect Neo with Jesus Christ. He forms part of the Trinity of Morpheus/God the Father and Trinity/The Holy Spirit. Still, it shouldn't surprise us that lots of people - on screen and off - react with some skepticism to the idea. Neo is one of a string of possible messiahs, we learn, none of whom have yet survived the stringent fake-messiah-weeding-out program.

Sounds a bit like Jesus' day.

A look at parallels

Within a few years of the time of Christ, we find a number candidates for the Jewish Messiah, whether rabbis or prophets or itinerant preachers of peace and justice. Some thought John the Baptist might be the Messiah. Others pitched their tents behind the Essene leader known as the Teacher of Righteousness. (Neither man claimed to be anything more than a messenger paving the way).

Certainly the Jews needed a messiah, and more than a few no doubt thought, Hey, today would not be too early. But always, without exception, this or that messiah proved to be merely a man. So it's no wonder that the Jews - like the crew of Morpheus' ship-had grown fed up with the waiting. They slid into doubt and began to lose hope and faith.

Neo's given name, Thomas A. Anderson, has important resonance. As many observers have pointed out, we remember Thomas as the doubting disciple, the one who demanded physical proof that Jesus was indeed the Christ. The so-called Gospel of Thomas remains one of the most important and best-known in the Gnostic collection, and The Matrix movies often use Gnostic images and symbols. And the last name Anderson translates into "Son of Man," the term Jesus customarily used for himself during his ministry.

Several times the film uses Neo's full name: Thomas A. Anderson. It's here that we can understand one of the clear points of the film and its approach to Neo as Messiah. Thomas, a Son of Man - we might read this to say, "My character as a doubter is part of my becoming, and I am one of many possible messiahs."

The Wachowskis do not want us to believe that Neo is Jesus - clearly he isn't - but rather they want us to take away some spiritual lessons by thinking of him in a Jesus-style role. One of those lessons seems to be this: Jesus perfectly fused God and man, incarnated the divine and thus represented the highest spiritual advancement imaginable for humans. But he also set an example for us and gave us a sample of what we might achieve. As much as Jesus was God, he also was fully man, prone at least potentially to the same annoying habits of sloth and disbelief that plague us - yet possessing the keys to redemption.

Messianic secret

The first hint of Neo-as-Jesus comes after Neo's first wake-up call in the original Matrix, when a hacker friend in need greets him: "Hallelujah! You're my savior, man, my own personal Jesus Christ." This sets a pattern of reference that extends throughout the first film - often through cursing to or about Neo. Mouse, for example, says during Neo's training bout with Morpheus, "Jesus Christ, he's fast." And after he asks Neo if he knows why they brought him out, Cypher says to him, "Jesus, what a mind job." No other character has this pattern of cursing attached to him or her and no one utters a curse using the name "Jesus" except in connection with Neo. It seems to be a conscious choice on the directors' part. In fact, in a 1996 draft of the original screenplay, the policeman who reacts with amazement to the evil Agent's leap to another building - "That's impossible" - originally prefaced his statement with "Jesus Christ," a bit of dialogue dropped from the shooting script and the film.

Neo also has a tempter - Cypher, offering illicit hootch and unwise advice - like Jesus had Satan. Likewise, Neo has a betrayer in his inner circle - Cypher again - like Jesus had Judas. And in each case of betrayal, the seeming victory for the forces of authority and conventionality actually serves as part of a larger plan. The betrayal actually puts divine grace into action.

Neo's ministry can be traced, like that of Jesus, through the progress of miracles. His first apparent miracle - dodging bullets on the rooftop - might be compared to Jesus turning water into wine. Trinity doesn't fall on her face and worship Neo; she simply asks, "How did you do that?" We can almost imagine Jesus' friends tugging their beards and saying something similar.

This first miracle for each man might tempt some observers to think it's a parlor trick. But then when Neo rescues Morpheus, the miraculous big guns come into play, something like Jesus bringing Lazarus back to life. "Come forth, Lazarus," even sounds something like Neo's urging Morpheus out of his jailhouse room to life. Neither can be explained in any sort of rational way. After Neo's exploits in the rescue of Morpheus, the others recognize him as the One; those who watched Jesus at the tomb of Lazarus cast away any thoughts of him as a pretender.

The greatest miracle for both, of course, is resurrection. Both die, both remain dead for a period of time, and both return to life to continue their ministries. In each case, the figure of the Holy Spirit breathes life back into them (the actual breath of God in the case of Jesus, the figurative breath of God in the form of Trinity for Neo) and they arise reborn, transformed, transfigured. No longer subject to the mundane laws of human existence, they yet remain a little longer in order to pass on their teachings.
In The Matrix Reloaded, for example, we find Neo in a teaching role, showing Trinity how to fly-a reference, perhaps, to Jesus and Peter's water-walking lessons and the mystery of Jesus followers when he returned to them walking through walls.

The problem of violence

We run into one major problem with this Neo/Jesus comparison and we have to face it. How can we identify the Glock-wielding Neo as the cross-bearing Prince of Peace?

Allow us to suggest several lines of explanation.

First, remember that these are Hollywood action movies, and no one will mistake them for Martin Scorsese's Kundun. A genre movie like The Matrix relies on the convention of action to attract an audience, and the Wachowski brothers conceived of the movie in this way - as a thoughtful film that entertains an audience in part through wild flights of gunplay.

But we also can remember that the Prince of Peace reacted with controlled violence when he saw injustice or personal violation. Although we don't usually tend to remember him in this way, picture in your mind an angry Jesus overturning the tables of money lenders and running them out of the Temple with a whip in his hands. In the face of some things, Jesus didn't turn the other cheek. He got busy.

We might also remember a statement of Jesus that we find in the New Testament: "Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword" (Matthew 10:34). The Gospel of Thomas remembered his words like this: "People think it is for peace I have come into the world, but they do not know it is dissension I have come to cast on the earth: fire, sword, war." Whether we think of this statement literally or figuratively, the message of Jesus - and the message of The Matrix films - is nothing but radical. It opposes traditional power in support of the downtrodden. And it brings conflict into the open.

No man can serve two masters. Everyone has to choose sides and Jesus left no room for compromise. Such an unyielding approach - "Our way or the highway," as Switch puts it - creates conflict. And in the films, violence symbolizes that conflict.

As much as we admire Martin Luther King Jr. and Desmond Tutu, non-violent civil disobedience simply won't work on the machines of The Matrix. The Agents will simply shut you down and the system will feed you to the next guy.

Final lessons

Whether we think of the Messiah/the One as someone who achieves perfection or as someone who simply recognizes his own divinity, all of us can find hope.

Maybe we can't be Jesus. Maybe we can't be Neo. We don't expect to fly through the streets at 2,000 miles an hour, as Neo does in Reloaded. But like Neo, we can move from doubt and fear to faith and the possibility of transcendence.

And really, if Keanu Reeves can aspire to spiritual greatness, why can't anyone?

- Greg Garrett is a Pulitzer-nominated novelist and professor of English at Baylor University. Chris Seay is pastor of Ecclesia, a progressive Christian community in Houston. This article is adapted for FaithWorks from The Gospel Reloaded: Exploring Spirituality and Faith in The Matrix (Navpress), in which Seay and Garrett create readings of The Matrix and its sequels for Christian audiences.

React!  Do you think movies like The Matrix offer a different way of telling the gospel message?

back to top ^