Heading Out to Eden
The original series Star Trek episode “The Way to Eden” follows the misadventures of a small band of space hippies. Jonesing for harmony and easy living, the far-out free spirits steal an Enterprise shuttlecraft and head out to a paradise planet named Eden.
Living up to its reputation, Eden is a verdant world, abundant in beauty and natural resources. However, when the cosmic misfits finally arrive at their new paradise home, they discover a horrifying truth—everything, from the soil on the ground to the fruit on the trees, is composed of acid. The hippies learn, too late for many in their group, that the planet is no paradise after all and that constant exposure to the poisonous environment will soon claim their lives.
The seekers of paradise in Star Trek V: The Final Frontier (1989) are subjected to a different kind of divine disappointment. Spock’s half-brother, Sybok, hijacks the Enterprise, steers it past the Galactic Barrier and parks it in orbit around a blue-green tie-dye planet known as Sha Ka Ree (the Vulcan word for Eden). Whereas the space hippies yearn for a paradise without God, Sybok seeks a paradise with God.
Unfortunately, Sybok makes the costly mistake of listening to the wrong voice. The entity they encounter on Sha Ka Ree isn’t the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, but claims to be “one god [with] many faces,” revealing numerous religious figures from Earth and other planets. The rapid-fire display of visages infers that true religion is a mélange of beliefs a la the precepts of Joseph Campbell’s comparative mythology (the philosophical bedrock for George Lucas’ mystical Force in the Star Wars movies). This thinly veiled brand of heresy preaches an all-inclusive gospel that stands in direct opposition to the Bible, which emphatically states that there is only one God (Eph. 4:6) and one way to heaven…Jesus (John 14:6).
In lieu of the one true God, the landing party has discovered a deceptive, diabolical energy being with formidable powers and an all-consuming desire to escape the ages-old prison it’s been banished to—presumably to commit acts of terror on an epic scale throughout the universe. The evil demigod schemes to take control of the Enterprise under the guise of conducting intergalactic missionary work, which prompts Kirk’s classic query, “Excuse me…but what does God need with a starship?”
When it becomes evident that Kirk isn’t going to yield control of his ship, the belligerent creature attacks the landing party. Though the entity shakes off the effects of a photon torpedo, it fails to bear up under a point-blank phaser beam barrage courtesy of Spock aboard a commandeered Klingon Bird of Prey. One less false god in the universe!
These two Trek tales pose some salient questions about the nature of God and an eternal paradise, such as: does one really have to travel millions of light-years to find God? Also, why is everyone looking for God in Eden—God resides in heaven, not in that ancient utopia.
The characters in both stories proceed from a false assumption that Eden still exists: Eden was destroyed when Adam and Eve sinned and God evicted them from the garden (Gen. 3:23 & 24). Ironically, those who seek the enticements and infinite pleasures of Eden unwittingly seek their own destruction, for when Eden’s gates were sealed, two other eternal destinations were forged…heaven and hell. Bottom line: no matter how spectacular it appears in the brochure, any paradise without God is just beachfront property around the lake of fire.
Instead of searching for some fabled Shangri-La, the characters in these stories should’ve been seeking first the kingdom of God (Matt. 6:33). So, when others are heading out to Eden, I’ll be heading out to heaven. Yea, brother!
July 1999
Living up to its reputation, Eden is a verdant world, abundant in beauty and natural resources. However, when the cosmic misfits finally arrive at their new paradise home, they discover a horrifying truth—everything, from the soil on the ground to the fruit on the trees, is composed of acid. The hippies learn, too late for many in their group, that the planet is no paradise after all and that constant exposure to the poisonous environment will soon claim their lives.
The seekers of paradise in Star Trek V: The Final Frontier (1989) are subjected to a different kind of divine disappointment. Spock’s half-brother, Sybok, hijacks the Enterprise, steers it past the Galactic Barrier and parks it in orbit around a blue-green tie-dye planet known as Sha Ka Ree (the Vulcan word for Eden). Whereas the space hippies yearn for a paradise without God, Sybok seeks a paradise with God.
Unfortunately, Sybok makes the costly mistake of listening to the wrong voice. The entity they encounter on Sha Ka Ree isn’t the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, but claims to be “one god [with] many faces,” revealing numerous religious figures from Earth and other planets. The rapid-fire display of visages infers that true religion is a mélange of beliefs a la the precepts of Joseph Campbell’s comparative mythology (the philosophical bedrock for George Lucas’ mystical Force in the Star Wars movies). This thinly veiled brand of heresy preaches an all-inclusive gospel that stands in direct opposition to the Bible, which emphatically states that there is only one God (Eph. 4:6) and one way to heaven…Jesus (John 14:6).
In lieu of the one true God, the landing party has discovered a deceptive, diabolical energy being with formidable powers and an all-consuming desire to escape the ages-old prison it’s been banished to—presumably to commit acts of terror on an epic scale throughout the universe. The evil demigod schemes to take control of the Enterprise under the guise of conducting intergalactic missionary work, which prompts Kirk’s classic query, “Excuse me…but what does God need with a starship?”
When it becomes evident that Kirk isn’t going to yield control of his ship, the belligerent creature attacks the landing party. Though the entity shakes off the effects of a photon torpedo, it fails to bear up under a point-blank phaser beam barrage courtesy of Spock aboard a commandeered Klingon Bird of Prey. One less false god in the universe!
These two Trek tales pose some salient questions about the nature of God and an eternal paradise, such as: does one really have to travel millions of light-years to find God? Also, why is everyone looking for God in Eden—God resides in heaven, not in that ancient utopia.
The characters in both stories proceed from a false assumption that Eden still exists: Eden was destroyed when Adam and Eve sinned and God evicted them from the garden (Gen. 3:23 & 24). Ironically, those who seek the enticements and infinite pleasures of Eden unwittingly seek their own destruction, for when Eden’s gates were sealed, two other eternal destinations were forged…heaven and hell. Bottom line: no matter how spectacular it appears in the brochure, any paradise without God is just beachfront property around the lake of fire.
Instead of searching for some fabled Shangri-La, the characters in these stories should’ve been seeking first the kingdom of God (Matt. 6:33). So, when others are heading out to Eden, I’ll be heading out to heaven. Yea, brother!
July 1999
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
Does God Have a Prime Directive, Part 1
18/02/19 20:02 Filed in: Star Trek
“Could God create a stone so heavy that even He could not lift it?” You’ve probably heard that trite tidbit of sophistry at some point in your life. A staple of philosophical discussions for centuries, this so-called “Stone Paradox” is an utterly ridiculous paralogism.
Here’s a better question: “Can God establish an edict that He Himself must obey?” Even with our limited cognitive functioning and infinitesimally narrow understanding of God’s nature, the answer is obvious. As unfathomable as it seems, God has a Prime Directive.
The Prime Directive (hereafter PD) in Star Trek, which was surely established as a liberal-minded reaction against the colonizing mandates inherent in Manifest Destiny and other such expansionist agendas, stipulates that Starfleet officers shall in no way meddle in the affairs of impressionable alien species so as to prevent landing parties from destroying strange new worlds while in the process of exploring them. This binding dictate prohibits any Starfleet officer from tampering with the natural development of alien civilizations possessing a pre-warp drive level of technology in order to avoid the kind of cultural contamination witnessed in TOS episodes like “A Piece of the Action” and “Patterns of Force.”
Intended as a safeguard against the premature advancement of an alien race—which could kindle bloodletting, world wars or a nuclear holocaust—the PD is the guiding principle of the Federation. However, some Starfleet captains discovered chinks in the seemingly ironclad dictum and exploited them for personal gain (Captain Ronald Tracey in “The Omega Glory”) or altruistic purposes (Captain James T. Kirk on numerous occasions).
Even though, from a conceptual standpoint, a PD has its roots buried deep in Darwin’s theory of evolution, let’s suspend any theological objections to Trek’s prescription of non-interference for the sake of this argument. Since there’s little visual evidence to prove that a supernatural agency is at work in our world today, it’s logical to conclude that God has a PD. But how can we reconcile God’s supernatural interventions—the occasional undercover angel He dispatches to assist humans in desperate need or the various miracles He’s performed throughout the centuries?
In these instances, and many others recorded in the Bible, isn’t God breaking His own rules; in essence, violating His own Prime Directive? And wouldn’t such an infraction be considered a sin? And if so, who has the authority to punish God? To be continued…
March 1997
Here’s a better question: “Can God establish an edict that He Himself must obey?” Even with our limited cognitive functioning and infinitesimally narrow understanding of God’s nature, the answer is obvious. As unfathomable as it seems, God has a Prime Directive.
The Prime Directive (hereafter PD) in Star Trek, which was surely established as a liberal-minded reaction against the colonizing mandates inherent in Manifest Destiny and other such expansionist agendas, stipulates that Starfleet officers shall in no way meddle in the affairs of impressionable alien species so as to prevent landing parties from destroying strange new worlds while in the process of exploring them. This binding dictate prohibits any Starfleet officer from tampering with the natural development of alien civilizations possessing a pre-warp drive level of technology in order to avoid the kind of cultural contamination witnessed in TOS episodes like “A Piece of the Action” and “Patterns of Force.”
Intended as a safeguard against the premature advancement of an alien race—which could kindle bloodletting, world wars or a nuclear holocaust—the PD is the guiding principle of the Federation. However, some Starfleet captains discovered chinks in the seemingly ironclad dictum and exploited them for personal gain (Captain Ronald Tracey in “The Omega Glory”) or altruistic purposes (Captain James T. Kirk on numerous occasions).
Even though, from a conceptual standpoint, a PD has its roots buried deep in Darwin’s theory of evolution, let’s suspend any theological objections to Trek’s prescription of non-interference for the sake of this argument. Since there’s little visual evidence to prove that a supernatural agency is at work in our world today, it’s logical to conclude that God has a PD. But how can we reconcile God’s supernatural interventions—the occasional undercover angel He dispatches to assist humans in desperate need or the various miracles He’s performed throughout the centuries?
In these instances, and many others recorded in the Bible, isn’t God breaking His own rules; in essence, violating His own Prime Directive? And wouldn’t such an infraction be considered a sin? And if so, who has the authority to punish God? To be continued…
March 1997