The Emptiness of the Multiverse

My kids love the Spider-Verse movies. We just finished watching the second film and are waiting eagerly for the final installment. I’m also enjoying them, but I have to admit the multiverse concept feels a bit empty. I mean that ironically, of course. The device seems intended to give more options, more explanations, and more possible outcomes. More would seem to equal full.

If you’re unfamiliar with the multiverse concept or parallel universes, it means you have not yet entered the Marvel Cinematic Universe! In truth, a tiny bit of digging shows that this popular treatment is only one thread of a deeper philosophical argument about matter, time, and existence. It goes all the way back to Greek antiquity but really finds its voice in the 20th century. There are several versions of multiverse theories and at least a few reasons it is valued for its explanatory power. There are also many voices in opposition based on scientific and philosophical grounds. I’d be out of my depth entering that debate, but I was struck by George Ellis’s wisdom:

As skeptical as I am, I think the contemplation of the multiverse is an excellent opportunity to reflect on the nature of science and on the ultimate nature of existence: why we are here … In looking at this concept, we need an open mind, though not too open. It is a delicate path to tread. Parallel universes may or may not exist; the case is unproved. We are going to have to live with that uncertainty. Nothing is wrong with scientifically based philosophical speculation, which is what multiverse proposals are. But we should name it for what it is. (emphasis mine)

The term “philosophical speculation” probably rubs proponents the wrong way, but I find it very helpful in understanding why this mostly esoteric debate has entered popular discourse. If people think about meaning and purpose on a regular basis, the multiverse offers a compelling way to approach the issues. The multiverse overflows with possibility, with our own choices the hinge points that spawn new, unseen worlds.

I believe this accounts for the explosion of interest in Marvel and Spider-Man multiverses, as it invites us to see the power of our choices played out in different timelines or existence. We tend to believe by default that our choices are determining factors in life, but this trope lets you follow the thread in all kinds of creative and parallel ways. This happened in film in the ’90s with Sliding Doors. I remember many friends in high school being enamored with it. To get on the train or to miss it creates two timelines and a very different story arc of love.

The multiverse invites me to reflect on my life choices, a counterfactual timeline created by a small change. If I had married this person, or if I moved there instead of stayed, if I had gone to a different college, bought a different car, or woke up earlier yesterday, my life would be different. What if, what if, what if … But far from feeling empowered or given meaning, these trains of thought fill me with confusion and anxiety. The vast multiverse feels empty. If our world is just one of infinite worlds, the chain of events that made it does not feel sacred but arbitrary.

But perhaps I’m just being too neurotic and focused on me. Let’s do a thought experiment and give Jesus the Spider-Verse treatment. I don’t plan to go full Scorsese and ruminate on Jesus choosing a normal life due to temptation. Let’s do something simpler, like his entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. And in this case, the crowds that welcome him will be our “sliding doors.” What if the crowds that came out that day had been hostile to Jesus? In the multiverse framework, this could have led Jesus to a parallel world of being driven out of Jerusalem right away and not being arrested, tried, and crucified. Would that mean a different salvation outcome, or does he still find his way to the cross? Is there an alternate universe where Jesus is not the savior? Or what if no one had come out at all? If no one is there to oppose or praise, is this akin to a tree falling in the forest? Does Jesus have to create a conflict? And again the question, are there universes out there where Jesus is not Savior and Lord?

I feel absurd proposing all these threads, but I believe this is the philosophical speculation that arises with certain forms of the multiverse. At first it sounds like an expansion of stories, options, and outcomes, but at least to me, it feels a bit paltry and surface level. What I mean is that the possibility that Jesus could be anything begins to make him nothing. So too for myself, if I can seek meaning for my life in infinite outcomes, how different is this from a vague nihilism? If you stare at the multiverse long enough, if begins to look like a fathomless void.

Ok, ok, let’s come back down to earth a bit and do something empirical. Let’s take Jesus in the Gospels and briefly observe what he says about himself and what he does. First there are his explicit statements about going to the cross. These are found in Matthew (16, 17, 20, 26), Mark (8, 9, 10), and Luke (9, 18) and occur at least three times in each. There are those conversations in John about being lifted up like the serpent on the pole in Numbers 21:8 and the seed that falls to the ground and dies (John 12:23–24). He seems to know exactly what his future holds.

We can also observe some of the things Jesus does. In Luke 4 he is tempted by Satan, essentially offered an alternate route to being Lord, and he refuses (Lk 4:1–13). Later in the chapter he is literally threatened with death by a crowd, the thing we would expect him to have come for, but he walks through (Lk 4:28–30). It becomes very clear that Jesus has a particular mission and specific path. The meaning of his life seems obvious to him. He has been called upon to enter the world, die for our sins, and be raised to justify us (1 Cor 15:1–4).

In other words, Jesus has no interest in the multiverse. His purpose is singular, clear, and full. And that calling is good news for us, not only as recipients of his grace but as individuals receiving calls that are also singular, clear, and full. You can find this throughout Paul’s writing, but particularly in Ephesians where we hear a full-throated call from God in Jesus. In Ephesians 1:3–14, Paul emphasizes this singular call for the Ephesians, that it is clearly given in Jesus and that it leads to a full and free life. The phrases that rise in my mind are “He chose us in him before the creation of the world” and “You also were included in Christ when you heard the message of truth, the gospel of your salvation.” You and I are meant to hear these words for ourselves.

In the multiverse or even “what if” approach to life, we find uncertainty, regret, and most ironically, navel-gazing. In the universe of Jesus we find assurance, wholeness, and momentum to reach out. All the alternate possibilities promise fullness, while the singular track of God actually gives it. You have a particular mission and a specific path.

I recently saw the strangest of examples of this via a high school in Sisters, Oregon. The small town has a particular woodworking program for building guitars. The students have one task. They learn to design and build their own acoustic guitar. As the instructor states early on, the goal is not about the guitar per se but that they will learn to fail and try again. Students readily identify the constraints of their task. They have limited time, must take risks, and special attention to detail is crucial. As I watched the video, I was struck by the well-placed pride of the students. Is their guitar the best? That’s not even a question that is raised. They made it. It reflects their home, relationships, and themselves. Not once did I hear about a “what if” regarding their creations. You could see the joy and purpose for each of these students.

The students weren’t the only ones who found joy and purpose in this class. The teacher, Jason Chinchen, communicates his own sense of calling. As he describes not only the shaping of the guitars but also the deeper shaping of young people, he begins to tear up. He says, “I love what I do, a lot. I feel really lucky.” He too seems to have no interest in the multiverse or “what if” kinds of questions. His purpose and yours is singular, clear, and full. The multiverse pushes you to ask of your life “What if …,” but life’s meaning is to be found in what we have already been given.