Starfleet
Sometimes the Transporters Don't Work
26/02/19 21:10 Filed in: Star Trek
And sometimes they turn hapless transportees into genetic soup (Star Trek: The Motion Picture). Or split a person into good/bad halves (TOS’s “The Enemy Within”). Or merge two individuals into one (VOY’s “Tuvix”). Point is, we can’t always expect technology to function optimally, solve all our problems or protect us against every potential threat.
Some of the best Star Trek episodes, both old and new, featured landing parties/away teams left in the lurch by fickle transporters (a la, “Gentleman, I suggest you beam me aboard”). When the transporters break down, survival instincts kick in and Starfleet decorum is quickly tossed out the nearest airlock. In this subset of Trek shows, temperamental technology raises the stakes, ratchets up the tension and delivers exhilarating drama…just the way we like it.
When transporters malfunction, our heroes are faced with untold dangers on hostile worlds and must rely on something other than mechanization—namely the gray matter between their ears—to get them out of sticky situations. With limited resources, the waylaid crew’s chances of surviving significantly increase with reliance upon training (particularly that extension course on “What to do When Stranded by a Transporter”), intuition, ingenuity and even a little luck.
By episode’s end, we’re impressed by the composure and courage exemplified by the marooned officers when they eventually succeed against all odds. And, with the stranded crew members safely aboard, we’re on to the next adventure.
There are many instances of faulty transporters in the Bible. No, really. God took the celestial transporters offline on several occasions for the purpose of producing perseverance, character and hope (Rom. 5:4) in a number of Old and New Testament believers. In many of these Biblical accounts, heavenly aid was withheld until the last possible moment and was frequently delivered in unexpected or miraculous ways.
Take the plight of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego (Dan. 3: 4-30), for instance. For refusing to bow down and worship the golden image of King Nebuchadnezzar, the Hebrew men were thrown into a fiery furnace. When the king peered into the flames, he was startled to see the unconsumed forms of the three men, plus a fourth figure…which appeared as the Son of God (v. 25). Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego walked out of the inferno unscathed, without a single singed hair or even the smell of smoke on their robes (v. 27).
Due to their unwavering convictions and the miracle in the furnace, the king professed his belief in God and mandated that from that time forward all Babylonians should worship the God of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego as the one true God (v. 28&29). Instead of merely teleporting the trio to safety, the pre-incarnate Christ protected His three servants in the midst of their searing dilemma.
Another individual in desperate need of an emergency beam out was Daniel when he was cast into the den of hungry lions (Dan. 6:16-28). But what if God had answered Daniel’s prayers immediately by extricating him from the lion-laden den? Wouldn’t make for a very exciting Sunday school story would it?
Instead of simply rescuing Daniel from his dire predicament, God allowed Daniel to face his fears and flex his faith muscles. In response to Daniel’s prayers, angels placed a supernatural vise on the mouths of each lion in the pit (v. 22). When Daniel was lifted out of the den the next morning, he didn’t even have a scratch on his body (v. 23). Again, God’s method wasn’t to remove His servant from tribulation but to sustain him through it for the perfecting of his faith.
Examples of those needing to be rescued from dangerous or intolerable situations abound in scriptures. Joseph certainly could’ve used a Get Out of Jail Free card when Potiphar’s wife falsely accused him of raping her, resulting in his incarceration in an Egyptian dungeon (Gen. 39:1-20).
Samson surely would’ve welcomed an exit strategy when he yanked the pillars from their foundations, killing a host of Philistines, and himself, in the process (Jud. 16:23-31).
Jonah ardently prayed for a way out of the slimy, smelly whale’s stomach, but I don’t think being vomited up on the beach at Nineveh (Jon. 1:17, 2:1-10) was his preferred method of divine deliverance.
Paul, who unwittingly chartered three different ships that fell apart around him (II Cor. 11:25), definitely could’ve used a supernatural intervention on a variety of occasions.
Of course, the ultimate example of an individual faced with a life or death crisis was Jesus. If anyone ever deserved to be spared an excruciating, agonizing demise it was Christ on the cross. And yet, instead of saving Himself, He chose to save us.
The Bible records that Jesus could’ve called down twelve legions of angels to free Him from that Roman cross (Matt. 26:53). Had He done that—had He taken the easy way out—there would be no salvation or eternal life for anyone. Jesus suffered the worst death imaginable so that we could have the greatest life conceivable.
So, how do you react when you find yourself in the middle of a hopeless situation? Do you look for the quick fix or do you “endure hardship…like a good soldier of Christ Jesus” (II Tim. 2:3)?
We must meet each challenge head-on and live our lives worthy of His calling so that on the day of redemption, when the divine transporters are activated, we will be beamed up into His glorious Heaven!
Fall 1998
Some of the best Star Trek episodes, both old and new, featured landing parties/away teams left in the lurch by fickle transporters (a la, “Gentleman, I suggest you beam me aboard”). When the transporters break down, survival instincts kick in and Starfleet decorum is quickly tossed out the nearest airlock. In this subset of Trek shows, temperamental technology raises the stakes, ratchets up the tension and delivers exhilarating drama…just the way we like it.
When transporters malfunction, our heroes are faced with untold dangers on hostile worlds and must rely on something other than mechanization—namely the gray matter between their ears—to get them out of sticky situations. With limited resources, the waylaid crew’s chances of surviving significantly increase with reliance upon training (particularly that extension course on “What to do When Stranded by a Transporter”), intuition, ingenuity and even a little luck.
By episode’s end, we’re impressed by the composure and courage exemplified by the marooned officers when they eventually succeed against all odds. And, with the stranded crew members safely aboard, we’re on to the next adventure.
There are many instances of faulty transporters in the Bible. No, really. God took the celestial transporters offline on several occasions for the purpose of producing perseverance, character and hope (Rom. 5:4) in a number of Old and New Testament believers. In many of these Biblical accounts, heavenly aid was withheld until the last possible moment and was frequently delivered in unexpected or miraculous ways.
Take the plight of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego (Dan. 3: 4-30), for instance. For refusing to bow down and worship the golden image of King Nebuchadnezzar, the Hebrew men were thrown into a fiery furnace. When the king peered into the flames, he was startled to see the unconsumed forms of the three men, plus a fourth figure…which appeared as the Son of God (v. 25). Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego walked out of the inferno unscathed, without a single singed hair or even the smell of smoke on their robes (v. 27).
Due to their unwavering convictions and the miracle in the furnace, the king professed his belief in God and mandated that from that time forward all Babylonians should worship the God of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego as the one true God (v. 28&29). Instead of merely teleporting the trio to safety, the pre-incarnate Christ protected His three servants in the midst of their searing dilemma.
Another individual in desperate need of an emergency beam out was Daniel when he was cast into the den of hungry lions (Dan. 6:16-28). But what if God had answered Daniel’s prayers immediately by extricating him from the lion-laden den? Wouldn’t make for a very exciting Sunday school story would it?
Instead of simply rescuing Daniel from his dire predicament, God allowed Daniel to face his fears and flex his faith muscles. In response to Daniel’s prayers, angels placed a supernatural vise on the mouths of each lion in the pit (v. 22). When Daniel was lifted out of the den the next morning, he didn’t even have a scratch on his body (v. 23). Again, God’s method wasn’t to remove His servant from tribulation but to sustain him through it for the perfecting of his faith.
Examples of those needing to be rescued from dangerous or intolerable situations abound in scriptures. Joseph certainly could’ve used a Get Out of Jail Free card when Potiphar’s wife falsely accused him of raping her, resulting in his incarceration in an Egyptian dungeon (Gen. 39:1-20).
Samson surely would’ve welcomed an exit strategy when he yanked the pillars from their foundations, killing a host of Philistines, and himself, in the process (Jud. 16:23-31).
Jonah ardently prayed for a way out of the slimy, smelly whale’s stomach, but I don’t think being vomited up on the beach at Nineveh (Jon. 1:17, 2:1-10) was his preferred method of divine deliverance.
Paul, who unwittingly chartered three different ships that fell apart around him (II Cor. 11:25), definitely could’ve used a supernatural intervention on a variety of occasions.
Of course, the ultimate example of an individual faced with a life or death crisis was Jesus. If anyone ever deserved to be spared an excruciating, agonizing demise it was Christ on the cross. And yet, instead of saving Himself, He chose to save us.
The Bible records that Jesus could’ve called down twelve legions of angels to free Him from that Roman cross (Matt. 26:53). Had He done that—had He taken the easy way out—there would be no salvation or eternal life for anyone. Jesus suffered the worst death imaginable so that we could have the greatest life conceivable.
So, how do you react when you find yourself in the middle of a hopeless situation? Do you look for the quick fix or do you “endure hardship…like a good soldier of Christ Jesus” (II Tim. 2:3)?
We must meet each challenge head-on and live our lives worthy of His calling so that on the day of redemption, when the divine transporters are activated, we will be beamed up into His glorious Heaven!
Fall 1998
Sometimes They Do Get It Right
24/02/19 23:06 Filed in: Star Trek | Enemy Mine
I’m as guilty as the next person (perhaps even more so) of raising a red flag on Star Trek’s anti-Christian messages. When it comes to Trek and religion, it seems like evolution, the Big Bang theory, atheism, secular humanism and New Age ideologies are all accepted as factual, while Christianity is discredited at every turn…which is particularly true of the newer series.
Since opinions run deep on the subject, and since, at the end of the day, Trek is just a TV show, I thought it might be an insightful exercise to highlight some of the things Trek has gotten right. That is, right according to a Christian perspective.
The original Trek featured a number of shows that propagated Christian ideals and themes (most notably “Bread and Circuses”), and even the modern series have occasionally espoused selected aspects of Christianity or religion in general. In fact, Trek promotes Christian principles on a variety of widely-held moral codes and social standards.
For example, Trek is anti-drug (“Symbiosis”), anti-euthanasia (“Half a Life”) and anti-suicide (“Ethics”); all TNG. As surprising as it seems, Trek fails to uphold mainline Christian values on only two major issues: its pro-science/anti-God position (nowhere more obvious than in TNGs “Who Watches the Watchers”) and its advancement of the homosexual agenda (thinly veiled advocacy in TNGs “The Outcast” gives way to in-your-face lesbianism in DS9s “Rejoined”).
Fortunately, the furtive furthering of a cause can cut both ways, and such is the case with two TNG episodes that quietly defend the pro-life stance. Both shows use engineer Geordi LaForge’s blindness to spark a debate over the sanctity of life versus natural selection.
“The Enemy” finds Geordi stranded on torrential storm world Galorndon Core, and follows his slip-sliding efforts to climb out of a muddy pit. Finally reaching the surface, Geordi seeks refuge from the deluge inside a dark, dank cave. There, he discovers a Romulan, the sole survivor from a scout ship that recently crash-landed on the gloomy globe. A discussion ensues between the two enemy officers and Geordi learns that he wouldn’t even be alive if he’d been born on Romulus, because all imperfect Romulan babies are aborted.
The Romulan considers Starfleet a weak organization for allowing people like Geordi to serve in it, yet it’s this presumed liability that becomes a lifesaving asset when Geordi’s optical VISOR detects Wesley’s neutrino beacon. The Romulan’s jaded perspective toward disabilities changes when he and Geordi, working together Enemy Mine (1985) style, reach the beam up site and are rescued.
In “The Masterpiece Society,” the Enterprise encounters a colony of genetically engineered humanoids on the planet Moab IV. The inhabitants are perfect in every detail: born with the knowledge of their future destiny, they are programmed with the innate skills necessary to excel in their preordained field of expertise. Geordi is something of an anomaly and novelty to the Moabites (sound Biblical?).
Their leading scientific mind, Hannah Bates, tells Geordi that he never would’ve been created with a defect on her world. Geordi defends his handicap, claiming that, for all its detriments, his blindness has been a tremendous benefit on numerous occasions. That conviction is validated when Geordi, with the assistance of his VISOR, is able to foil Hannah’s plans to destroy the planet’s biosphere.
The episodes referenced here represent just a sampling of the many Trek shows that subscribe, in some way, to Christian beliefs. An itemized list of Christian elements in each Trek series would further bolster this apologia, but, for the sake of brevity, these few examples should sufficiently demonstrate a consistent pattern of Trek’s periodic promulgation of Christian precepts. That is to say, despite how overwhelming the evidence seems to the contrary, sometimes they do get it right!
November 1997
Since opinions run deep on the subject, and since, at the end of the day, Trek is just a TV show, I thought it might be an insightful exercise to highlight some of the things Trek has gotten right. That is, right according to a Christian perspective.
The original Trek featured a number of shows that propagated Christian ideals and themes (most notably “Bread and Circuses”), and even the modern series have occasionally espoused selected aspects of Christianity or religion in general. In fact, Trek promotes Christian principles on a variety of widely-held moral codes and social standards.
For example, Trek is anti-drug (“Symbiosis”), anti-euthanasia (“Half a Life”) and anti-suicide (“Ethics”); all TNG. As surprising as it seems, Trek fails to uphold mainline Christian values on only two major issues: its pro-science/anti-God position (nowhere more obvious than in TNGs “Who Watches the Watchers”) and its advancement of the homosexual agenda (thinly veiled advocacy in TNGs “The Outcast” gives way to in-your-face lesbianism in DS9s “Rejoined”).
Fortunately, the furtive furthering of a cause can cut both ways, and such is the case with two TNG episodes that quietly defend the pro-life stance. Both shows use engineer Geordi LaForge’s blindness to spark a debate over the sanctity of life versus natural selection.
“The Enemy” finds Geordi stranded on torrential storm world Galorndon Core, and follows his slip-sliding efforts to climb out of a muddy pit. Finally reaching the surface, Geordi seeks refuge from the deluge inside a dark, dank cave. There, he discovers a Romulan, the sole survivor from a scout ship that recently crash-landed on the gloomy globe. A discussion ensues between the two enemy officers and Geordi learns that he wouldn’t even be alive if he’d been born on Romulus, because all imperfect Romulan babies are aborted.
The Romulan considers Starfleet a weak organization for allowing people like Geordi to serve in it, yet it’s this presumed liability that becomes a lifesaving asset when Geordi’s optical VISOR detects Wesley’s neutrino beacon. The Romulan’s jaded perspective toward disabilities changes when he and Geordi, working together Enemy Mine (1985) style, reach the beam up site and are rescued.
In “The Masterpiece Society,” the Enterprise encounters a colony of genetically engineered humanoids on the planet Moab IV. The inhabitants are perfect in every detail: born with the knowledge of their future destiny, they are programmed with the innate skills necessary to excel in their preordained field of expertise. Geordi is something of an anomaly and novelty to the Moabites (sound Biblical?).
Their leading scientific mind, Hannah Bates, tells Geordi that he never would’ve been created with a defect on her world. Geordi defends his handicap, claiming that, for all its detriments, his blindness has been a tremendous benefit on numerous occasions. That conviction is validated when Geordi, with the assistance of his VISOR, is able to foil Hannah’s plans to destroy the planet’s biosphere.
The episodes referenced here represent just a sampling of the many Trek shows that subscribe, in some way, to Christian beliefs. An itemized list of Christian elements in each Trek series would further bolster this apologia, but, for the sake of brevity, these few examples should sufficiently demonstrate a consistent pattern of Trek’s periodic promulgation of Christian precepts. That is to say, despite how overwhelming the evidence seems to the contrary, sometimes they do get it right!
November 1997
Who Really Made First Contact With Humans?
22/02/19 22:51 Filed in: Star Trek
Vulcans introduced themselves to humans in the hit film Star Trek: First Contact (1996). “First Contact” was also the title of TNG episode that aired five years earlier. In that thought-provoking fourth season show, Riker botches a first contact mission with the Malcorians, a race on the verge of developing warp drive technology.
As the episode opens, Riker accepts a dangerous assignment that requires him to work undercover as a cultural observer. Surgically altered to appear as a Malcorian, Riker leaves the familiar comforts of the Enterprise in order to blend in with a culturally and technologically inferior race. Soon after arriving on Malcor III, Riker is attacked at night in a darkened alley (so much for Starfleet training…and common sense). Critically wounded, Riker is rushed to a medical facility where his biology—underneath the veneer of plastic surgery—reveals his true nature as an alien.
When he finally regains consciousness, Riker tries to escape but suffers another beating at the hands of the xenophobic Malcorian hospital staff. Now close to death, Riker is ultimately saved by Picard’s expert negotiations and Dr. Crusher’s adept ministrations. First contact procedures on Malcor III go from bad to worse when the Malcorians ask the Enterprise to leave and never return—a request Picard regretfully and dutifully honors since the Prime Directive has been violated.
This plot, in a few key areas, reminds me of another story—a real-life one. A man left his home in paradise to render assistance to a people entrenched in sin and bereft of hope. His mission: to live among them (John 1:14), touch and heal them, and demonstrate His unconditional love toward them. He had great powers at his command but set them aside (the kenosis) so that he could live as a human.
This man, a teacher and prophet, witnessed humanity at its finest and worst and experienced our hopes and fears firsthand. And, at some point during his thirty-three years of life, he came to understand the human condition in an intimate way; for he was one of us and one with us. And yet, he was still an alien.
When he finally revealed his true identity as the Son of God, we rejected his attempts to help us and ultimately mocked, tortured and killed him. We understood his purpose for coming to Earth only after he’d been put to death. And the most ironic part of the story? His death provided salvation and eternal life for us, the very sinners who nailed him to a tree.
Though these two stories have certain elements in common, the analogy is far from perfect. For starters, Riker isn’t the Son of God. But Riker’s unique role among the bridge officers touches on a theory I formulated a few years back.
Trek creator Gene Roddenberry publicly “came out” as a humanist in 1986, the year before TNG debuted on TV. It’s my belief that Roddenberry, as a means of promulgating the deification of humanity, positioned Picard (the wise father), Riker (the loyal son and away team leader) and Troi (the empathic counselor) in the center, right and left (from their perspective) bridge seats, respectively, for the express purpose of displaying these individuals as a kind of human (and Betazoid) trinity. However, as fallen and mortal beings, these fictitious Starfleet officers should in no way be confused with the Triune God.
Another place where the analogy breaks down is the scene where a Malcorian nurse seduces Riker. Unlike Riker, Jesus never succumbed to temptation (Heb. 4:15). Also, Riker’s weapons were taken from him, but Jesus freely set aside His powers. And finally, Riker was rescued and restored to health, but Christ gave up His life to pay for our transgressions.
So, who really made first contact with humans? Was it the Vulcans, or was it Jesus Christ? Trek promotes the former; the Bible proves the latter.
First contact isn’t going to happen a century from now in Montana. It already happened two thousand years ago in a humble manger and then on a rugged Roman cross.
There were two first contacts, you ask? Absolutely! God made physical contact with us at Bethlehem, but he made spiritual contact with us at Calvary.
June 1997
As the episode opens, Riker accepts a dangerous assignment that requires him to work undercover as a cultural observer. Surgically altered to appear as a Malcorian, Riker leaves the familiar comforts of the Enterprise in order to blend in with a culturally and technologically inferior race. Soon after arriving on Malcor III, Riker is attacked at night in a darkened alley (so much for Starfleet training…and common sense). Critically wounded, Riker is rushed to a medical facility where his biology—underneath the veneer of plastic surgery—reveals his true nature as an alien.
When he finally regains consciousness, Riker tries to escape but suffers another beating at the hands of the xenophobic Malcorian hospital staff. Now close to death, Riker is ultimately saved by Picard’s expert negotiations and Dr. Crusher’s adept ministrations. First contact procedures on Malcor III go from bad to worse when the Malcorians ask the Enterprise to leave and never return—a request Picard regretfully and dutifully honors since the Prime Directive has been violated.
This plot, in a few key areas, reminds me of another story—a real-life one. A man left his home in paradise to render assistance to a people entrenched in sin and bereft of hope. His mission: to live among them (John 1:14), touch and heal them, and demonstrate His unconditional love toward them. He had great powers at his command but set them aside (the kenosis) so that he could live as a human.
This man, a teacher and prophet, witnessed humanity at its finest and worst and experienced our hopes and fears firsthand. And, at some point during his thirty-three years of life, he came to understand the human condition in an intimate way; for he was one of us and one with us. And yet, he was still an alien.
When he finally revealed his true identity as the Son of God, we rejected his attempts to help us and ultimately mocked, tortured and killed him. We understood his purpose for coming to Earth only after he’d been put to death. And the most ironic part of the story? His death provided salvation and eternal life for us, the very sinners who nailed him to a tree.
Though these two stories have certain elements in common, the analogy is far from perfect. For starters, Riker isn’t the Son of God. But Riker’s unique role among the bridge officers touches on a theory I formulated a few years back.
Trek creator Gene Roddenberry publicly “came out” as a humanist in 1986, the year before TNG debuted on TV. It’s my belief that Roddenberry, as a means of promulgating the deification of humanity, positioned Picard (the wise father), Riker (the loyal son and away team leader) and Troi (the empathic counselor) in the center, right and left (from their perspective) bridge seats, respectively, for the express purpose of displaying these individuals as a kind of human (and Betazoid) trinity. However, as fallen and mortal beings, these fictitious Starfleet officers should in no way be confused with the Triune God.
Another place where the analogy breaks down is the scene where a Malcorian nurse seduces Riker. Unlike Riker, Jesus never succumbed to temptation (Heb. 4:15). Also, Riker’s weapons were taken from him, but Jesus freely set aside His powers. And finally, Riker was rescued and restored to health, but Christ gave up His life to pay for our transgressions.
So, who really made first contact with humans? Was it the Vulcans, or was it Jesus Christ? Trek promotes the former; the Bible proves the latter.
First contact isn’t going to happen a century from now in Montana. It already happened two thousand years ago in a humble manger and then on a rugged Roman cross.
There were two first contacts, you ask? Absolutely! God made physical contact with us at Bethlehem, but he made spiritual contact with us at Calvary.
June 1997