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
Universal Translators and End Time Prophecy
24/02/19 00:15 Filed in: Star Trek | Jurassic Park
What’s the connection, you ask? As exploitative entrepreneur John Hammond said immediately after the first dinosaur sighting in Jurassic Park (1993), “I’ll show you.”
For those “not of the body” (reference TOS episode “The Return of the Archons”), the universal translator (hereafter UT) is a high-tech piece of 23rd - 24th century technology that can instantaneously translate any known (Note: UTs are not as effective with languages based on metaphor, i.e. that of the Tamarians in TNG’s “Darmok”) language in the universe into the user’s native tongue. UTs are usually housed within personal communicators, but can also be cobbled together from spare parts by industrious Vulcans (TOS’s “Metamorphosis”).
When the original series aired in the 60s, the concept of a UT was pretty far-fetched; just a twinkle in the mind’s eye of sci-fi writers and tech nerds subsisting on Coca-Cola and Doritos. However, the speculation surrounding such a device isn’t so outlandish anymore.
With the current state of technology, which is becoming more portable and powerful with each new model or iteration, it’s completely conceivable that a UT prototype will be manufactured within the next few years. In addition to instant translations of common phrases, idioms, slang, etc, a UT might also contain algorithms capable of interpreting the subtleties of voice inflections, i.e. subtext and sarcasm.
What if this handheld unit could cross-translate every language in the world? Just imagine vacationing in say…Paris, and having the ability to speak to anyone on the street with the assistance of a small device. How much richer would the trip be if you could converse with the locals as if they were your neighbors? One thing’s for sure, asking for directions would be a lot easier (so long Rosetta Stone).
In addition to alleviating some of the hassles and stresses associated with international travel, UTs would also aid in foreign affairs. Careers as a translator would become the occupational equivalent of the dodo bird. Though the applications of this technology seem nearly endless, many potential dangers exist, both with the technology itself and in the motives of those using it.
The Old Testament story of “The Tower of Babel” (Gen. 11:1-9) has a lot to say about a comprehensive language system. Here’s the gist of the Biblical account: a group of wicked humans conspired to ascend into heaven for the express purpose of killing God with an arrow. Working efficiently and with an unholy zeal, the people constructed a massive tower that reached straight into the sky—a humanistic endeavor to end all others.
A few facts about the tower builders: first, they dwelled in the land called Shinar, which, in today’s vernacular, means Babylonia. Secondly, the Babylonians had a mutual, all-consuming goal…to reach the heavens and make a name for themselves (v. 4). Finally, and most importantly, verse one tells us they all spoke the same language (remember, a universal language had been in use from the time God created Adam and Eve).
The key to the entire story is in verse six: God states, “If as one people speaking the same language they have begun to do this, then nothing they plan to do will be impossible for them.” Coming from the God of the impossible, that’s a staggering statement.
God quashed the Babylonian uprising by toppling their tower, confusing their speech and scattering them throughout the earth. And since that time, the people of the world have never unified for any single purpose (sadly, not even for a sci-fi convention). Fragmented, Earth’s nations have waged wars over land, money, natural resources, and religious ideologies ever since; our inability to effectively communicate with each other further exacerbating geopolitical and socio-cultural tensions.
This story invites several poignant questions. What would happen if the restrictions established at Babel were abolished by a technological breakthrough? What would the world be like if everyone could speak the same language?
A one-world language would certainly adopt characteristics of politically correct speech, which has already introduced the world to an all-inclusive, non-offensive mode of communication. And, of course, it’s easy to extrapolate that a one-world language would lend itself to a one-world government and one-world religion.
Most people would agree that world peace is a desirable goal and, as such, a one-world language would facilitate that idealistic objective. But, as the Bible warns, “While people are saying, ‘Peace and safety,’ destruction will come on them suddenly” (I Thess. 5:3). Additionally, Christ cautioned that in the end times there would be wars and rumors of wars (Matt. 24:6). A one-world language would also preclude the possibility of a one-world army…the words Antichrist and Armageddon immediately come to mind.
Even though UTs would be a quantum leap forward in the evolution of portable electronic devices, their existence would eventually lead us back to the Tower of Babel and God’s wrath. As is the case with any scientific breakthrough, designers and engineers can become so focused on pushing the boundaries of what’s possible that they fail to consider the ethical and societal ramifications of their so-called advancements.
Dr. Ian Malcolm said it best in Jurassic Park, “[You] were so preoccupied with whether or not you could, you didn’t stop to think if you should.”
August 1997
For those “not of the body” (reference TOS episode “The Return of the Archons”), the universal translator (hereafter UT) is a high-tech piece of 23rd - 24th century technology that can instantaneously translate any known (Note: UTs are not as effective with languages based on metaphor, i.e. that of the Tamarians in TNG’s “Darmok”) language in the universe into the user’s native tongue. UTs are usually housed within personal communicators, but can also be cobbled together from spare parts by industrious Vulcans (TOS’s “Metamorphosis”).
When the original series aired in the 60s, the concept of a UT was pretty far-fetched; just a twinkle in the mind’s eye of sci-fi writers and tech nerds subsisting on Coca-Cola and Doritos. However, the speculation surrounding such a device isn’t so outlandish anymore.
With the current state of technology, which is becoming more portable and powerful with each new model or iteration, it’s completely conceivable that a UT prototype will be manufactured within the next few years. In addition to instant translations of common phrases, idioms, slang, etc, a UT might also contain algorithms capable of interpreting the subtleties of voice inflections, i.e. subtext and sarcasm.
What if this handheld unit could cross-translate every language in the world? Just imagine vacationing in say…Paris, and having the ability to speak to anyone on the street with the assistance of a small device. How much richer would the trip be if you could converse with the locals as if they were your neighbors? One thing’s for sure, asking for directions would be a lot easier (so long Rosetta Stone).
In addition to alleviating some of the hassles and stresses associated with international travel, UTs would also aid in foreign affairs. Careers as a translator would become the occupational equivalent of the dodo bird. Though the applications of this technology seem nearly endless, many potential dangers exist, both with the technology itself and in the motives of those using it.
The Old Testament story of “The Tower of Babel” (Gen. 11:1-9) has a lot to say about a comprehensive language system. Here’s the gist of the Biblical account: a group of wicked humans conspired to ascend into heaven for the express purpose of killing God with an arrow. Working efficiently and with an unholy zeal, the people constructed a massive tower that reached straight into the sky—a humanistic endeavor to end all others.
A few facts about the tower builders: first, they dwelled in the land called Shinar, which, in today’s vernacular, means Babylonia. Secondly, the Babylonians had a mutual, all-consuming goal…to reach the heavens and make a name for themselves (v. 4). Finally, and most importantly, verse one tells us they all spoke the same language (remember, a universal language had been in use from the time God created Adam and Eve).
The key to the entire story is in verse six: God states, “If as one people speaking the same language they have begun to do this, then nothing they plan to do will be impossible for them.” Coming from the God of the impossible, that’s a staggering statement.
God quashed the Babylonian uprising by toppling their tower, confusing their speech and scattering them throughout the earth. And since that time, the people of the world have never unified for any single purpose (sadly, not even for a sci-fi convention). Fragmented, Earth’s nations have waged wars over land, money, natural resources, and religious ideologies ever since; our inability to effectively communicate with each other further exacerbating geopolitical and socio-cultural tensions.
This story invites several poignant questions. What would happen if the restrictions established at Babel were abolished by a technological breakthrough? What would the world be like if everyone could speak the same language?
A one-world language would certainly adopt characteristics of politically correct speech, which has already introduced the world to an all-inclusive, non-offensive mode of communication. And, of course, it’s easy to extrapolate that a one-world language would lend itself to a one-world government and one-world religion.
Most people would agree that world peace is a desirable goal and, as such, a one-world language would facilitate that idealistic objective. But, as the Bible warns, “While people are saying, ‘Peace and safety,’ destruction will come on them suddenly” (I Thess. 5:3). Additionally, Christ cautioned that in the end times there would be wars and rumors of wars (Matt. 24:6). A one-world language would also preclude the possibility of a one-world army…the words Antichrist and Armageddon immediately come to mind.
Even though UTs would be a quantum leap forward in the evolution of portable electronic devices, their existence would eventually lead us back to the Tower of Babel and God’s wrath. As is the case with any scientific breakthrough, designers and engineers can become so focused on pushing the boundaries of what’s possible that they fail to consider the ethical and societal ramifications of their so-called advancements.
Dr. Ian Malcolm said it best in Jurassic Park, “[You] were so preoccupied with whether or not you could, you didn’t stop to think if you should.”
August 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