Vulcans
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
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