I'm not sure what's worse about this episode--the fact that it only takes the Starship Enterprise's crew 4 minutes to wake up from mass insanity and blast themselves out of a dying planet's orbit with a hastily-conceived theory or the fact that only under the influence of alcohol (er, gravitationally charged water molecules) do the members of the Enterprise crew start making sense. For example, Reilly, the self-absorbed Irishman who takes over Engineering (don't they have security officers down there?) and declares himself "captain," is quite possibly one of the best characters that the show's producers ever invented. I wish all of us could be like him--uninhibited, full of a brimming-over sense of joy that cannot be contained in the rules, ranks, and prejudices of our society, and to a very large extent, I think that more Christians should look at this example of true unfettered happiness, rather than to the staid secularist stoicism of Kirk, Spock, and McCoy as a model for how they should act in this world.
Of course, as you might suspect, I find myself agreeing most with the young officer who eventually takes a knife to himself in the crewmen's mess (albeit what clearly appears on camera to be a bread knife). This is, to me, the show's "voice of reason," the lone crew member who expresses what I think anyone in his shoes would be feeling: a fundamental sense that man does not belong in the vacuum of space. While this notion runs counter to Roddenberry's optimistic futurism, and while I therefore, as a viewer, am supposed to be antagonistic toward it, I find this crewman's words to be, in many ways, the only truly honest words in the whole episode. Outer space, as any former astronaut will tell you, is a dangerous place for humans to be, and the prospect of finding oneself caught in a vacuum without a spacesuit is probably more frightening to those who work and fly in orbital space than it can ever be to anyone else. Wouldn't you, if you were assigned to a spaceship flying light years--even light decades--away from the solar system, away from Jupiter, Mars, and Earth, knowing that one wrong move by your superiors would expose you to space or get you lost from your home on Earth forever, be just a little afraid?
Here we get to my point about Star Trek, about optimistic futurism, and about all "space opera" television series. Let's face it, ladies and gentlemen--these kinds of shows have to break basic rules of science just to get off the ground. Warp power, matter/energy transport, phasers and shields, these are all technologies that require so much energy that we could very well blow ourselves up (to say nothing of our planet and our solar system) trying to invent them. (Of course, we probably would have a hard enough time coming up with the kind of technology that would allow people like Kirk, Spock, and McCoy to walk around, ride elevators, and conduct sword fights like normal people on Earth do when they are in a zero gravity environment, but I digress.) Yes, it is true that we have invented machines that have brought us to the sky and into orbital space, but traveling between the stars? Forget it. The kind of energy it would take to break the space/time continuum (or even bend it a little) would be greater than our puny factories and power plants could manufacture, and it would almost certainly endanger the fragile balance of our solar system.
Man can't colonize space on his or her own.
Personally, I think that the further we were to get away from our planet in terms of traveling ability, the more we would find ourselves depending on our Creator. Think about it--if you were in the equivalent of a big tin can surrounded by nothing but a cold, dark, pressureless vacuum, wouldn't you consider offering up a few prayers? I certainly would. I have always thought that interstellar travel (and even interplanetary travel) would be a big mystery to the human race . . . until Jesus came back and explained how we could do it. Maybe he won't--after all, there's nothing in the Bible to suggest that we would go anywhere other than Earth after Jesus' second coming--but it's still an idea I have. I wonder . . . if, after we have technologized our world into ruins in a vain attempt to attain a semblance of godhood, might we be given freedoms and new horizons beyond our wildest dreams by a loving, forgiving God?
Something to think about, friends.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Star Trek--Where No Man Has Gone Before
One of the topics that fascinated Americans in the 1960's and 1970's was something called ESP. Short for Extrasensory Perception, this little concept became a topic of study for legitimate scientists and a subject of interest for the general public. Could it be possible that a human being could develop the ability to manipulate objects with his or her mind, to reader others' thoughts, or even to influence others' thoughts? As we seem to have discovered, the answer to that question is a clear, "no," but the fact that we asked the question at all indicates the extent to which we as human beings find our existence--particularly our mortality--to be stultifying. To be designed for purposes beyond our control--beyond our permission--is a fact of life that most of us either can't or don't want to handle.
It is for that reason that Gary Mitchell, the villain in "Where No Man Has Gone Before," is both a mirror of man's innate evil and also a hero. Obviously, as we can see in the episode, Mitchell (for all his newfound godhood) exhibits greed, jealousy, and selfishness, and he is willing to strangle and kill former friends and colleagues in order to obtain what he wants. In many ways, this episode of Star Trek paints the human condition in its truest form, the "frailty" that Kirk so often references in his exchanges with Mitchell and other crewmen showing up vividly in Mitchell's destructive behavior. However, as I watched this episode for what, to me, was probably the twentieth or thirtieth time, I was astonished at something else entirely--the guttural savagery of Kirk's attempt to take Mitchell apart with his bare hands. This is violence that would have doubtless been acceptable in many Western movies at the time, but as a viewer, I found it fascinating that when the opportunity strikes for Mitchell to be subdued, Kirk chooses not to go for his phaser rifle (which could doubtlessly kill Mitchell in a matter of seconds) and instead opts to beat him with his fists, then attempt to cave in his skull with a nearby rock. I think the producers of the show (their second pilot episode, in fact) probably hadn't considered this little detail when they were trying to put together a gripping fight scene for their audience, but it says something to me that they chose to present violence that atavistic rather than something more civilized, especially when I consider that network executives of that era were far more concerned about what they might be showing children in prime time than network executives are now.
Also, I was struck that the key female supporting lead--Dr. Danar--is a cold, calculating Nazi-type figure who sees the development of an ESPer race as a climactic evolutionary achievement for the human species. (In other words, she's a character who--2 decades removed from World War II--audience members of that era could "love to hate.") In particular, I was struck by one line of dialogue in which the good doctor apologizes for her "freezer"-like behavior toward Mitchell by saying that women who are career-minded tend to "overcompensate" a bit. Mitchell--before his transformation into a godlike being--attempts to flirt with her, only to receive a withering rejection. Now, sitting in Sick Bay, he enjoys the opportunity of hearing her say that she was "overcompensating" in order to fulfill her career role. This brings up an important point about feminism and sexual relations that I want to explore in more detail here, because it informs much of what we see on television.
When people flirt with members of the opposite sex, what is their main aim? Obviously, it is to consummate a sexual union, right? Well, what is the main purpose--biologically--for a sexual union? Reproduction, isn't it? I'm not saying that sex itself isn't fun or pleasurable--of course it is--but I AM saying that the main AIM of sex is procreation.
Now, let's go back to the scene with Mitchell and Danar. Now, what is Danar "overcompensating" for? She's (obviously) overcompensating for her drive to cooperate with Mitchell (or any member of the opposite sex) for procreation, right?
This is my point. The "professional" woman, the woman who wants to pursue a career, is often opposed to the "obedient conservative housewife" in the popular imagination, largely because the two images are opposed to each other ON TELEVISION. Think about it--is there any reason why a Christian man should be concerned that his wife might be interested in pursuing a career of her own? Of course not. Husbands and wives can work together, and I think they SHOULD work together, if for no reason other than that working together strengthens the marriage bond. However, our society would have it otherwise. We have all grown up in a society that tells us--again, largely through television--that to be a professional woman is fundamentally opposed to being a wife and mother, and this ridiculous idea has probably resulted in the ruin of more marriages and relationships than any other single cultural motif. Why should a woman consider having children at odds with having a career? After all, if MEN have had both children and careers for 6000 years, then I certainly don't believe that WOMEN would find it any more difficult. (Yes, there is pregnancy, but come on, ladies and gentlemen. Any good man is there with his wife through the whole thing, right? It isn't like the coming of a new baby would change HIS life any less than it would his wife's.)
As I pointed out in one of my early posts, there was a time in human history when women vied for the privilege of having babies. Today, we train women to run away from this one singular aspect of their lives that they can experience in a deeper, more powerful way than men can ever imagine, and as a result, childbirth has become almost a curse in certain sectors of our society. This is a far cry from the attitude of the Bible writer who said that children are a blessing from the Lord, and it is a far cry from the kind of attitude that Christians should be fostering in their children. This one aspect of our culture, this antagonistic stance toward one of the human race's greatest joys, is something that permeates television right down to its core. The more we refuse to see this cultural value for what it is, the more we will see ourselves adopting the teachings of our television set--at the cost of our families, our children, and our spiritual well-being.
It is for that reason that Gary Mitchell, the villain in "Where No Man Has Gone Before," is both a mirror of man's innate evil and also a hero. Obviously, as we can see in the episode, Mitchell (for all his newfound godhood) exhibits greed, jealousy, and selfishness, and he is willing to strangle and kill former friends and colleagues in order to obtain what he wants. In many ways, this episode of Star Trek paints the human condition in its truest form, the "frailty" that Kirk so often references in his exchanges with Mitchell and other crewmen showing up vividly in Mitchell's destructive behavior. However, as I watched this episode for what, to me, was probably the twentieth or thirtieth time, I was astonished at something else entirely--the guttural savagery of Kirk's attempt to take Mitchell apart with his bare hands. This is violence that would have doubtless been acceptable in many Western movies at the time, but as a viewer, I found it fascinating that when the opportunity strikes for Mitchell to be subdued, Kirk chooses not to go for his phaser rifle (which could doubtlessly kill Mitchell in a matter of seconds) and instead opts to beat him with his fists, then attempt to cave in his skull with a nearby rock. I think the producers of the show (their second pilot episode, in fact) probably hadn't considered this little detail when they were trying to put together a gripping fight scene for their audience, but it says something to me that they chose to present violence that atavistic rather than something more civilized, especially when I consider that network executives of that era were far more concerned about what they might be showing children in prime time than network executives are now.
Also, I was struck that the key female supporting lead--Dr. Danar--is a cold, calculating Nazi-type figure who sees the development of an ESPer race as a climactic evolutionary achievement for the human species. (In other words, she's a character who--2 decades removed from World War II--audience members of that era could "love to hate.") In particular, I was struck by one line of dialogue in which the good doctor apologizes for her "freezer"-like behavior toward Mitchell by saying that women who are career-minded tend to "overcompensate" a bit. Mitchell--before his transformation into a godlike being--attempts to flirt with her, only to receive a withering rejection. Now, sitting in Sick Bay, he enjoys the opportunity of hearing her say that she was "overcompensating" in order to fulfill her career role. This brings up an important point about feminism and sexual relations that I want to explore in more detail here, because it informs much of what we see on television.
When people flirt with members of the opposite sex, what is their main aim? Obviously, it is to consummate a sexual union, right? Well, what is the main purpose--biologically--for a sexual union? Reproduction, isn't it? I'm not saying that sex itself isn't fun or pleasurable--of course it is--but I AM saying that the main AIM of sex is procreation.
Now, let's go back to the scene with Mitchell and Danar. Now, what is Danar "overcompensating" for? She's (obviously) overcompensating for her drive to cooperate with Mitchell (or any member of the opposite sex) for procreation, right?
This is my point. The "professional" woman, the woman who wants to pursue a career, is often opposed to the "obedient conservative housewife" in the popular imagination, largely because the two images are opposed to each other ON TELEVISION. Think about it--is there any reason why a Christian man should be concerned that his wife might be interested in pursuing a career of her own? Of course not. Husbands and wives can work together, and I think they SHOULD work together, if for no reason other than that working together strengthens the marriage bond. However, our society would have it otherwise. We have all grown up in a society that tells us--again, largely through television--that to be a professional woman is fundamentally opposed to being a wife and mother, and this ridiculous idea has probably resulted in the ruin of more marriages and relationships than any other single cultural motif. Why should a woman consider having children at odds with having a career? After all, if MEN have had both children and careers for 6000 years, then I certainly don't believe that WOMEN would find it any more difficult. (Yes, there is pregnancy, but come on, ladies and gentlemen. Any good man is there with his wife through the whole thing, right? It isn't like the coming of a new baby would change HIS life any less than it would his wife's.)
As I pointed out in one of my early posts, there was a time in human history when women vied for the privilege of having babies. Today, we train women to run away from this one singular aspect of their lives that they can experience in a deeper, more powerful way than men can ever imagine, and as a result, childbirth has become almost a curse in certain sectors of our society. This is a far cry from the attitude of the Bible writer who said that children are a blessing from the Lord, and it is a far cry from the kind of attitude that Christians should be fostering in their children. This one aspect of our culture, this antagonistic stance toward one of the human race's greatest joys, is something that permeates television right down to its core. The more we refuse to see this cultural value for what it is, the more we will see ourselves adopting the teachings of our television set--at the cost of our families, our children, and our spiritual well-being.
Star Trek--Charlie X
I have to admit that while I used to watch Star Trek (and all of its spin-offs) avidly, as an observer of my culture, I am far more impressed with shows like The Twilight Zone, which portray the unique horrors, prejudices, and selfishness within the human soul in a way which, 5 decades later, is still disturbing. The second Star Trek episode to air--Charlie X--appears to have been an ode to a specific Twilight Zone episode, in fact: "It's A Good Life," the infamous episode which features a young boy with godlike powers who terrorizes the residents of a small town. The episode ends as it began--the town residents, desperate for relief, fail to stop the boy from creating whatever horrors he imagines, and life goes on, much as it had, with no hope in sight for man or beast. The same is true for the officers of the Starship Enterprise in "Charlie X"--with the exception that the godlike beings who give Charlie his fearsome powers show up at the end of the episode and rescue the ship from what must certainly be a slave existence to a teenager's ghoulish whims.
I like the theme of a young boy given supernatural powers who begins to use those powers irresponsibly because I think it demonstrates one of the basic truths evident about our race from the very beginnings of its existence: that we are selfish beasts who, with an ounce of real power, would wreak havoc and devastation on our brethren (and our universe) if we could. However, the problem with this episode is the same problem that I have with Star Trek as a whole--Roddenberry's optimistic futurism. Yes, the actions of a teenage boy demonstrate that human beings are not ready for the kind of power that they often wish they could possess, However, look at the power that the crew members on the Starship Enterprise themselves possess--the ability to break the space-time continuum to reach other solar systems in a matter of hours or days, the ability to dissolve others into atoms with the use of a phaser, the ability to transport out of their ship to a planet's surface using matter/energy conversion, the ability to produce synthetic food for themselves at will, and the ability to cure diseases that kill most of us in our century. Then we have the godlike beings who eventually take the boy back into their own custody--a subtle promise that perhaps the human potential is far greater than simple feats like warp drive and matter/energy transport.
Futurists like Roddenberry paint a picture of the human race as a continually improving species, constantly acquiring new powers and abilities until it reaches a godlike status . . . but history has shown that with each new "power" we gain, we seem to grow more beastlike in our ruthlessness toward others. World wars? Genocides? Economic oppression and enslavement? These 3 elements of human history would not have been possible without the Industrial Revolution. And who can forget the wondrous gains we made as a species after we split the atom? Forty years and 3 generations on the brink of nuclear annihilation, with grave repercussions for their descendants (as we have seen in recent years), and we have still not eliminated the possibility that the world could still go up in the flames of fission's fires. The fact is that human sin, human selfishness, will always result in beings who, at their heart, resemble the little boy in "It's A Good Life" far more than they will ever resemble the crew members of the Starship Enterprise. Roddenberry's subtle (and not so subtle) optimism is at odds with what every believer in Christ understands at his or her core--that we, without God, are damned to walk a dark existence, enslaving, exploiting, and exterminating our brethren. For all their technical accomplishments, the crew of the Enterprise cannot judge Charlie for his grisly actions aboard their ship--because in many ways, they are just like him. This is the fundamental flaw in the premise of optimistic futurism, and it is the fundamental flaw in what this episode of Star Trek aims to teach us about ourselves and the world.
I like the theme of a young boy given supernatural powers who begins to use those powers irresponsibly because I think it demonstrates one of the basic truths evident about our race from the very beginnings of its existence: that we are selfish beasts who, with an ounce of real power, would wreak havoc and devastation on our brethren (and our universe) if we could. However, the problem with this episode is the same problem that I have with Star Trek as a whole--Roddenberry's optimistic futurism. Yes, the actions of a teenage boy demonstrate that human beings are not ready for the kind of power that they often wish they could possess, However, look at the power that the crew members on the Starship Enterprise themselves possess--the ability to break the space-time continuum to reach other solar systems in a matter of hours or days, the ability to dissolve others into atoms with the use of a phaser, the ability to transport out of their ship to a planet's surface using matter/energy conversion, the ability to produce synthetic food for themselves at will, and the ability to cure diseases that kill most of us in our century. Then we have the godlike beings who eventually take the boy back into their own custody--a subtle promise that perhaps the human potential is far greater than simple feats like warp drive and matter/energy transport.
Futurists like Roddenberry paint a picture of the human race as a continually improving species, constantly acquiring new powers and abilities until it reaches a godlike status . . . but history has shown that with each new "power" we gain, we seem to grow more beastlike in our ruthlessness toward others. World wars? Genocides? Economic oppression and enslavement? These 3 elements of human history would not have been possible without the Industrial Revolution. And who can forget the wondrous gains we made as a species after we split the atom? Forty years and 3 generations on the brink of nuclear annihilation, with grave repercussions for their descendants (as we have seen in recent years), and we have still not eliminated the possibility that the world could still go up in the flames of fission's fires. The fact is that human sin, human selfishness, will always result in beings who, at their heart, resemble the little boy in "It's A Good Life" far more than they will ever resemble the crew members of the Starship Enterprise. Roddenberry's subtle (and not so subtle) optimism is at odds with what every believer in Christ understands at his or her core--that we, without God, are damned to walk a dark existence, enslaving, exploiting, and exterminating our brethren. For all their technical accomplishments, the crew of the Enterprise cannot judge Charlie for his grisly actions aboard their ship--because in many ways, they are just like him. This is the fundamental flaw in the premise of optimistic futurism, and it is the fundamental flaw in what this episode of Star Trek aims to teach us about ourselves and the world.
Friday, June 18, 2010
G.I.Joe: The Revenge of G.I.Joe
This cartoon movie was essentially the finale of the G.I.Joe cartoon series that flourished in the 1980's era of toy/cartoon marketing. The whole purpose of the cartoon series, of course, was to advertise a line of toys and action figures under the G.I.Joe trademark, and as such, the series worked well. However, aside from the commercialistic aspects of the show, which were good enough reason for any responsible parent to avoid it, the series had a few other issues which made (and still make) it particularly troublesome for Christian parents.
I very much believe in Paul's words in Roman 13, that Christians are to respect their government in whatever lands they live, and as such, I have no problem with my nation's government--or ANY nation's government--protecting its citizens from outside threats through force of arms. However, there is a difference between accepting what, for any believer, should be a simple fact of life and teaching my children (or anyone else) to kill, to maim, and to assault others. The bottom line is that, for all its patriotism, G.I.Joe is a show in which characters shoot each other, fire missiles at each other, and bomb each other--without casualties. Jet pilots bail out at the last minute before their planes go down, sailors jump off patrol boats as they explode, and no one leaves a firefight with as much as a hangnail. This is a major problem, because it teaches children that (1) violence is fun (a lesson that I believe any Christian should never want his or her children to learn) and (2) that violence does not have any serious consequences. These are lessons which can have dreadful consequences in the lives of children, and they can lead to even more dreadful consequences in the lives of others. A boy who grows up with no sense that violence is dangerous, that it irreparably damages both its victims and their families, will become an immense danger both to himself and to others.
With that in mind, let's consider the premise of the movie which serves effectively as the series finale. Once again, we have the 2 factions (G.I.Joe, representing America's military superstructure, and C.O.B.R.A., a transnational army with designs on global domination) duking it out, except that this time, it appears that a secret civilization buried beneath the Arctic for thousands of years has decided to lend C.O.B.R.A. a hand. In essence, they have been using COBRA to wage a secret war against the human race (COBRA Commander, as it turns out, is one of these aliens), because, in their view, we are barbarians who use clunky machines in imitation of the biological technology of their species. There are two problems here (aside from the fact that COBRA Commander, after being condemned to a slow death of genetic mutation by his own brethren, becomes a good guy--wasn't this the same COBRA Commander who, in the FIRST G.I.Joe movie (the MASS Device) ruled a nation of mind-controlled slaves and conducted barbarous "gladiator" contests in which slaves fought to the death?):
1. If the aliens were so dependent on biological technology, why couldn't they have dominated the human race, even from the Arctic? (One has only to imagine giant squids flying through the skies to see that biological technology is superior to anything man's cutting, welding, and designing skills have managed to create.)
2. More importantly, the entire plot of the movie is based on a Darwinian premise--that species grow and evolve in order to perpetuate their own existence. This is a fine theory, and it is well-taught in most of our public schools, but the premise of the movie is one which a Christian cannot except for a simple reason: By its very nature, Christianity must accept as a general premise that human beings are CREATED. If we simply evolved from a more animal-like form, then every tenet of Christianity--our accountability to God, sin, redemption--falls like dominoes under the weight of man's own adaptability. We become, in essence, our own judges, the authors and finishers of our own existence, unable to call on an outside source to help us make sense of ourselves. In short, we become . . . lost, without hope. The whole problem I have with evolution as a Christian (aside from the fact that it is perfectly ridiculous to expect a species that can bench press 300 pounds to want to become a race of intelligent, but physically weak, beings) is that it leaves its adherents without hope. After all, why should we want to "evolve" into more mature, more responsible beings if we can, by brute strength, get what we want from the backs of others? Why should we care about little things like children or babies or sick people if evolution is the principle by which we guide our existence? Most importantly, if we are the masters of our physical (and metaphysical) fates, then on what basis can we justify ANY depth of morality as something other than the whim of chance, fortune, and powerful men and women? These are questions which I would hope any Christian would ask whenever the subject comes up, and they are studiously NOT asked when they are introduced in children's television programs such as G.I.Joe. After all, in a struggle between humans and another, ancient species, we see, in the end, that it is the species with the most strength and the best weapons that wins in the end--even if those attributes are cloaked in patriotism and clarion cries of "Yo Joe!"
I very much believe in Paul's words in Roman 13, that Christians are to respect their government in whatever lands they live, and as such, I have no problem with my nation's government--or ANY nation's government--protecting its citizens from outside threats through force of arms. However, there is a difference between accepting what, for any believer, should be a simple fact of life and teaching my children (or anyone else) to kill, to maim, and to assault others. The bottom line is that, for all its patriotism, G.I.Joe is a show in which characters shoot each other, fire missiles at each other, and bomb each other--without casualties. Jet pilots bail out at the last minute before their planes go down, sailors jump off patrol boats as they explode, and no one leaves a firefight with as much as a hangnail. This is a major problem, because it teaches children that (1) violence is fun (a lesson that I believe any Christian should never want his or her children to learn) and (2) that violence does not have any serious consequences. These are lessons which can have dreadful consequences in the lives of children, and they can lead to even more dreadful consequences in the lives of others. A boy who grows up with no sense that violence is dangerous, that it irreparably damages both its victims and their families, will become an immense danger both to himself and to others.
With that in mind, let's consider the premise of the movie which serves effectively as the series finale. Once again, we have the 2 factions (G.I.Joe, representing America's military superstructure, and C.O.B.R.A., a transnational army with designs on global domination) duking it out, except that this time, it appears that a secret civilization buried beneath the Arctic for thousands of years has decided to lend C.O.B.R.A. a hand. In essence, they have been using COBRA to wage a secret war against the human race (COBRA Commander, as it turns out, is one of these aliens), because, in their view, we are barbarians who use clunky machines in imitation of the biological technology of their species. There are two problems here (aside from the fact that COBRA Commander, after being condemned to a slow death of genetic mutation by his own brethren, becomes a good guy--wasn't this the same COBRA Commander who, in the FIRST G.I.Joe movie (the MASS Device) ruled a nation of mind-controlled slaves and conducted barbarous "gladiator" contests in which slaves fought to the death?):
1. If the aliens were so dependent on biological technology, why couldn't they have dominated the human race, even from the Arctic? (One has only to imagine giant squids flying through the skies to see that biological technology is superior to anything man's cutting, welding, and designing skills have managed to create.)
2. More importantly, the entire plot of the movie is based on a Darwinian premise--that species grow and evolve in order to perpetuate their own existence. This is a fine theory, and it is well-taught in most of our public schools, but the premise of the movie is one which a Christian cannot except for a simple reason: By its very nature, Christianity must accept as a general premise that human beings are CREATED. If we simply evolved from a more animal-like form, then every tenet of Christianity--our accountability to God, sin, redemption--falls like dominoes under the weight of man's own adaptability. We become, in essence, our own judges, the authors and finishers of our own existence, unable to call on an outside source to help us make sense of ourselves. In short, we become . . . lost, without hope. The whole problem I have with evolution as a Christian (aside from the fact that it is perfectly ridiculous to expect a species that can bench press 300 pounds to want to become a race of intelligent, but physically weak, beings) is that it leaves its adherents without hope. After all, why should we want to "evolve" into more mature, more responsible beings if we can, by brute strength, get what we want from the backs of others? Why should we care about little things like children or babies or sick people if evolution is the principle by which we guide our existence? Most importantly, if we are the masters of our physical (and metaphysical) fates, then on what basis can we justify ANY depth of morality as something other than the whim of chance, fortune, and powerful men and women? These are questions which I would hope any Christian would ask whenever the subject comes up, and they are studiously NOT asked when they are introduced in children's television programs such as G.I.Joe. After all, in a struggle between humans and another, ancient species, we see, in the end, that it is the species with the most strength and the best weapons that wins in the end--even if those attributes are cloaked in patriotism and clarion cries of "Yo Joe!"
Star Trek TOS--The Man Trap
Star Trek
This show has become the universally acknowledged "god" of the sci-fi television genre, with 4 (count 'em, 4) spin-offs, each of which lasted far longer than the original series did on the air. The show's creator, Gene Roddenberry, was an atheist, and his perspective heavily influenced the content of the show (which is why, even though there are references to the Bible and Christianity in several episodes, these references are to "mythical" events rather than to legitimate beliefs that one or more Federation representatives hold). This is a very important aspect of Star Trek that any viewer--particularly any viewer who is Christian--must keep in mind, because by its very nature, Star Trek is a show that enthusiastically endorses atheism as its principle guiding social and cultural informant, a philosophy that, as anyone who believes in the Christian God (or any god) can attest, is diametrically opposed to the principle of believing in something beyond ourselves as creator, originator, designer.
Now, let's take a look at the very first episode of this show to air--The Man Trap.
1966 was an important year in the evolution of American culture, a transitional year which saw the advent of civil rights voices that challenged Martin Luther King's stance of passive nonresistance to racial oppression, the feminist movement, and (most importantly) the anti-war movement. The anti-war movement had, as its centerpiece, what we in America today call the "counterculture"--a movement based largely on Eastern mysticism--which became the catalyst of a fundamental cultural shift in America between the kind of society that had existed in the early twentieth century and the society that exists now. All of our major cultural practices--including popular music, clothing, and even slang--have been influenced, in large part, by this movement, and it is in this context, and only in this context, that the instant cult popularity of Star Trek, which first aired in September of 1966, can be understood.
Let's look at the first two segments of the show (the teaser, which occurs at the beginning of all Star Trek shows, including the spin-offs, and the first full segment). Immediately, amongst all the set designs and special effects (which were quite advanced for that era), we can see 3 aspects of the show that revolutionized the way people "saw" their culture on television during that era--the presence of a non-human alien with devilish ears and a coldly logical way of perceiving the universe, the presence of an African-American officer on board the equivalent of a naval ship serving with Caucasians, and (of course) the standard Starfleet-issue uniform for female officers (tight, with ample exposure of legs and cleavage). I am not, at this point, going to comment on the merits of these 3 elements of the show--everyone can see, for example, how important it was in the year after the Civil Rights Act that an African-American appear among whites on television as an equal--but I do want to point at here that all 3 elements are indicative of values within the counterculture movement: a destruction of social boundaries, a deconstruction of sexual traditions and mores, and a rejection of Christianity (then rightfully seen as an aid in global oppression) as a perspective that could serve to inform the way Americans perceive the world. Is it any wonder, then, that this little show, which was almost axed before it began to air, gained such a fanatical following amongst members of the counterculture?
Personally, I have no animosity toward the 1960's counterculture. (How can I, when such a large part of my world has been shaped by it?) However, I do want to emphasize that the counterculture enthusiastically embraced a rejection of Christianity--particularly institutional Christianity--as a foundational lens through which Americans could view the world. To be fair, let's remember that during this decade, as well as the previous decade, Christianity had been used as an excuse for racial oppression, for wars all over the globe, and (in the memories of Europeans) for the exploitation of peoples who were less technologically savvy than the citizens of the West. In many ways, the counterculture's rejection of Christianity was well-justified, and as someone who shares that counterculture's wariness of institutional religion, I also share their distaste for the kinds of ideological compromises that institutional Christians have been willing to make over the past 1500 centuries to justify atrocities that would have shamed Paul and the rest of Jesus' disciples. However, I do not share the movement's rejection of Christ himself, and this is a fundamental difference that I, and any born again believer in Christ Jesus, will always have with that movement.
Now, the premise of "The Man Trap" is that an alien being, masquerading as an archeologist's wife, assumes different guises, infiltrating the star-ship Enterprise in its quest for salt . . . a quest that becomes a predatory search for vulnerable human bodies which contain salt. This in itself is a plot device known to sci-fi fans as a "monster of the week" episode, and it ends, as most "monster" episodes do, with the monster discovered, quarantined, or (in this case) killed. Notice, however, what the show's producer seems to be saying about male-female relationships here. For example, Dr. McCoy's one connection to the archeologist is a previous affair with the archeologist's wife that he had enjoyed before she married (and which he seems to be yearning to continue in this episode). Also, the first crew death that occurs in this episode involves a man who, after seeing a mental projection of a woman he had presumably been intimate with on a pleasure planet, is lured to his doom by the monster. This is, again, a perfectly acceptable plot device, but notice what both of these elements of the show are saying about male-female relationships--that knowing someone well before having sex with that person is not important, that whether or not that person is married is not important, and (because the monster assumes both genders during the show) that whether or not that person is a member of the opposite sex is not important. This is a hard realization to face, but it is one of the guiding principles of most television writing since the 1960's, so we need to be aware of it whenever we see portrayals of romance on television.
The most important part of the show, of course, is the speech given by the archeologist himself:
"She was the last of her kind . . . Earth history, remember? Like the passenger pigeon or the buffalo . . . once there were millions of them, prairies black with them. One herd covered three whole states, and they moved like thunder . . . the creatures here, once there were millions of them. Now there's one left."
This series of lines is the heart--the "lesson" of the show--but why, a believer in Christ might ask, should anyone be concerned about the destruction of an animal species (or, in this case, a species of monsters) if he or she does not believe they were created by an external God? If the development of species is accidental or due to the concept of survival of the fittest, then what value is there in preserving a species that obviously did not survive well enough to avoid extinction? This is the fundamental flaw, not only in the show's plot but within the movement it portrays--environmentalism. Yes, it is important to protect animal species that are dying--in fact, I think it is one of the primary concerns that Christians should have in our era--but the reason has nothing to do with preserving the natural balance or maintaining biodiversity. It is simply because those species--like us--have been created by a loving God who cares about them as much as He cares about us. Our foolishness, our tampering with the environment and with nature's order (God's order) has brought about the environmental nightmares we have witnessed every decade since the advent of the Industrial Revolution. How can environmentalists, many of whom share the same rejection of Christianity that the counterculture exhibited, ever hope to justify the sacrifices needed to save species of animals from extinction without a God, without a Creator, without a Supreme Being to whom we (and those animals) are accountable? This is the fundamental flaw within environmentalism and why, even though it has made strides in our society, it will not win more adherents within the ranks of conservative Christianity. Whether or not it should--whether or not Christians should embrace the protection of endangered species--is, I think, a matter of personal conviction and one on which I think Christians can legitimately disagree. However, my point here is that the environmentalism promoted in this episode of Star Trek is, at its core, fundamentally opposed to the environmentalism promoted in the Bible, because the environmentalism of the Bible has, as its fundamental concern, a devotion to Jesus Christ, rather than to animals. Without that devotion to Jesus Christ, we are left with merely a soulless moralism, a moralism as cold and lifeless as that promoted by the Pharisees.
That moralism guides much of what we do in our society today. It is, indeed, part of the spirit of this age, and as Star Trek reflected the moralistic spirit of the 1960's counterculture, so television, in all its guises, reflects the moralistic spirit of our era. Understanding that is our key to understanding the extent to which our era--and indeed we ourselves--have allowed ourselves to fall under the teachings of men and spirits who do not confess the beauty, the love, and the lordship of Jesus Christ.
This show has become the universally acknowledged "god" of the sci-fi television genre, with 4 (count 'em, 4) spin-offs, each of which lasted far longer than the original series did on the air. The show's creator, Gene Roddenberry, was an atheist, and his perspective heavily influenced the content of the show (which is why, even though there are references to the Bible and Christianity in several episodes, these references are to "mythical" events rather than to legitimate beliefs that one or more Federation representatives hold). This is a very important aspect of Star Trek that any viewer--particularly any viewer who is Christian--must keep in mind, because by its very nature, Star Trek is a show that enthusiastically endorses atheism as its principle guiding social and cultural informant, a philosophy that, as anyone who believes in the Christian God (or any god) can attest, is diametrically opposed to the principle of believing in something beyond ourselves as creator, originator, designer.
Now, let's take a look at the very first episode of this show to air--The Man Trap.
1966 was an important year in the evolution of American culture, a transitional year which saw the advent of civil rights voices that challenged Martin Luther King's stance of passive nonresistance to racial oppression, the feminist movement, and (most importantly) the anti-war movement. The anti-war movement had, as its centerpiece, what we in America today call the "counterculture"--a movement based largely on Eastern mysticism--which became the catalyst of a fundamental cultural shift in America between the kind of society that had existed in the early twentieth century and the society that exists now. All of our major cultural practices--including popular music, clothing, and even slang--have been influenced, in large part, by this movement, and it is in this context, and only in this context, that the instant cult popularity of Star Trek, which first aired in September of 1966, can be understood.
Let's look at the first two segments of the show (the teaser, which occurs at the beginning of all Star Trek shows, including the spin-offs, and the first full segment). Immediately, amongst all the set designs and special effects (which were quite advanced for that era), we can see 3 aspects of the show that revolutionized the way people "saw" their culture on television during that era--the presence of a non-human alien with devilish ears and a coldly logical way of perceiving the universe, the presence of an African-American officer on board the equivalent of a naval ship serving with Caucasians, and (of course) the standard Starfleet-issue uniform for female officers (tight, with ample exposure of legs and cleavage). I am not, at this point, going to comment on the merits of these 3 elements of the show--everyone can see, for example, how important it was in the year after the Civil Rights Act that an African-American appear among whites on television as an equal--but I do want to point at here that all 3 elements are indicative of values within the counterculture movement: a destruction of social boundaries, a deconstruction of sexual traditions and mores, and a rejection of Christianity (then rightfully seen as an aid in global oppression) as a perspective that could serve to inform the way Americans perceive the world. Is it any wonder, then, that this little show, which was almost axed before it began to air, gained such a fanatical following amongst members of the counterculture?
Personally, I have no animosity toward the 1960's counterculture. (How can I, when such a large part of my world has been shaped by it?) However, I do want to emphasize that the counterculture enthusiastically embraced a rejection of Christianity--particularly institutional Christianity--as a foundational lens through which Americans could view the world. To be fair, let's remember that during this decade, as well as the previous decade, Christianity had been used as an excuse for racial oppression, for wars all over the globe, and (in the memories of Europeans) for the exploitation of peoples who were less technologically savvy than the citizens of the West. In many ways, the counterculture's rejection of Christianity was well-justified, and as someone who shares that counterculture's wariness of institutional religion, I also share their distaste for the kinds of ideological compromises that institutional Christians have been willing to make over the past 1500 centuries to justify atrocities that would have shamed Paul and the rest of Jesus' disciples. However, I do not share the movement's rejection of Christ himself, and this is a fundamental difference that I, and any born again believer in Christ Jesus, will always have with that movement.
Now, the premise of "The Man Trap" is that an alien being, masquerading as an archeologist's wife, assumes different guises, infiltrating the star-ship Enterprise in its quest for salt . . . a quest that becomes a predatory search for vulnerable human bodies which contain salt. This in itself is a plot device known to sci-fi fans as a "monster of the week" episode, and it ends, as most "monster" episodes do, with the monster discovered, quarantined, or (in this case) killed. Notice, however, what the show's producer seems to be saying about male-female relationships here. For example, Dr. McCoy's one connection to the archeologist is a previous affair with the archeologist's wife that he had enjoyed before she married (and which he seems to be yearning to continue in this episode). Also, the first crew death that occurs in this episode involves a man who, after seeing a mental projection of a woman he had presumably been intimate with on a pleasure planet, is lured to his doom by the monster. This is, again, a perfectly acceptable plot device, but notice what both of these elements of the show are saying about male-female relationships--that knowing someone well before having sex with that person is not important, that whether or not that person is married is not important, and (because the monster assumes both genders during the show) that whether or not that person is a member of the opposite sex is not important. This is a hard realization to face, but it is one of the guiding principles of most television writing since the 1960's, so we need to be aware of it whenever we see portrayals of romance on television.
The most important part of the show, of course, is the speech given by the archeologist himself:
"She was the last of her kind . . . Earth history, remember? Like the passenger pigeon or the buffalo . . . once there were millions of them, prairies black with them. One herd covered three whole states, and they moved like thunder . . . the creatures here, once there were millions of them. Now there's one left."
This series of lines is the heart--the "lesson" of the show--but why, a believer in Christ might ask, should anyone be concerned about the destruction of an animal species (or, in this case, a species of monsters) if he or she does not believe they were created by an external God? If the development of species is accidental or due to the concept of survival of the fittest, then what value is there in preserving a species that obviously did not survive well enough to avoid extinction? This is the fundamental flaw, not only in the show's plot but within the movement it portrays--environmentalism. Yes, it is important to protect animal species that are dying--in fact, I think it is one of the primary concerns that Christians should have in our era--but the reason has nothing to do with preserving the natural balance or maintaining biodiversity. It is simply because those species--like us--have been created by a loving God who cares about them as much as He cares about us. Our foolishness, our tampering with the environment and with nature's order (God's order) has brought about the environmental nightmares we have witnessed every decade since the advent of the Industrial Revolution. How can environmentalists, many of whom share the same rejection of Christianity that the counterculture exhibited, ever hope to justify the sacrifices needed to save species of animals from extinction without a God, without a Creator, without a Supreme Being to whom we (and those animals) are accountable? This is the fundamental flaw within environmentalism and why, even though it has made strides in our society, it will not win more adherents within the ranks of conservative Christianity. Whether or not it should--whether or not Christians should embrace the protection of endangered species--is, I think, a matter of personal conviction and one on which I think Christians can legitimately disagree. However, my point here is that the environmentalism promoted in this episode of Star Trek is, at its core, fundamentally opposed to the environmentalism promoted in the Bible, because the environmentalism of the Bible has, as its fundamental concern, a devotion to Jesus Christ, rather than to animals. Without that devotion to Jesus Christ, we are left with merely a soulless moralism, a moralism as cold and lifeless as that promoted by the Pharisees.
That moralism guides much of what we do in our society today. It is, indeed, part of the spirit of this age, and as Star Trek reflected the moralistic spirit of the 1960's counterculture, so television, in all its guises, reflects the moralistic spirit of our era. Understanding that is our key to understanding the extent to which our era--and indeed we ourselves--have allowed ourselves to fall under the teachings of men and spirits who do not confess the beauty, the love, and the lordship of Jesus Christ.
New Direction for My Blog
Lately, I have been thinking about how uncritically most of us--especially those of us who come to our culture from a Christian perspective--view television. Let's face it--our role vis-a-vis television is that of passive recipient of broadcast data, not that of keen cultural observers attempting to discern the spirit of the times. Most of us look at television as a convenient 30 minute or one hour escape from life's problems, a chance to "veg out" and get away from it all. However, as much as television has become our best friend--in ways that perhaps our spouses and children have ceased to be to us--it has also, in a very real sense, become a doorway for values and principles that are, at best, alien to the Christian mind.
It is not my intent here to advocate some sort of half-baked legalism that would have committed Christians throwing away their televisions for the sake of their spiritual well-being. Legalism has never served Christianity well, and I personally believe that the grace of Christ Jesus allows us to make decisions that may not reflect the same convictions that other believers in Christ might not have. However, I think that every Christian--no matter what background or experiences that Christian has--should have a clear understanding of the cultural values that are reflected on the small screen, and we should all--Christian or not--be willing to examine, to question what we see on that screen.
With that in mind, I would like to focus my blog on examining one of America's greatest television genres--the sci-fi genre. Though this genre seems to have faded in the wake of reality television, it still has a captivating hold on the American imagination, and therefore, it deserves serious scrutiny, both from a Christian and from a culturally critical frame of reference. What values does this genre seem to be advocating? In what ways has the sci-fi genre shaped the American cultural consciousness, the way we view God, the way we view life, and the way we view ourselves as a nation? These are questions that I will explore in my next few posts.
With that in mind, I would like to begin by examining the one show that, in a powerful way, has come to define the genre--Star Trek.
It is not my intent here to advocate some sort of half-baked legalism that would have committed Christians throwing away their televisions for the sake of their spiritual well-being. Legalism has never served Christianity well, and I personally believe that the grace of Christ Jesus allows us to make decisions that may not reflect the same convictions that other believers in Christ might not have. However, I think that every Christian--no matter what background or experiences that Christian has--should have a clear understanding of the cultural values that are reflected on the small screen, and we should all--Christian or not--be willing to examine, to question what we see on that screen.
With that in mind, I would like to focus my blog on examining one of America's greatest television genres--the sci-fi genre. Though this genre seems to have faded in the wake of reality television, it still has a captivating hold on the American imagination, and therefore, it deserves serious scrutiny, both from a Christian and from a culturally critical frame of reference. What values does this genre seem to be advocating? In what ways has the sci-fi genre shaped the American cultural consciousness, the way we view God, the way we view life, and the way we view ourselves as a nation? These are questions that I will explore in my next few posts.
With that in mind, I would like to begin by examining the one show that, in a powerful way, has come to define the genre--Star Trek.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Christianity and Psychology--This Marriage Needs a Divorce
For most of my life, I did not look at things from a Christian perspective, and so it was not until I went to college for the first time that I began to question the contributions that psychology was bringing to our culture. However, it has not been until recently that I have considered the possibility that psychology, at its core, is not to be trusted as a science. Note that I am not talking about neurology--a hard science that revolves around the study of the brain's physical properties--but psychology, a soft science which revolves around the principle that "abnormal" behaviors need to be "diagnosed," "drugged," and "dialogued." The full extent of this science's foolishness was brought home to me last fall when, after a week of not eating and not sleeping becase she was panicked over an upcoming biology final, my wife had a nervous breakdown. Instead of spending just a few days at the hospital getting her biorhythms back on track, my wife was subjected--thanks in large part to my ignorance--to 2 weeks of psychological evaluation, in which she was not physically examined, not talked with regularly by the staff psychiatrist, and essentially treated like a prisoner. This was a mind-numbing experience for both of us, and it taught me a valuable lesson--that at their core, the beliefs, practices, and prescriptions of psychology are based on stereotypes and opinion.
This is why I am very concerned about the extent to which psychology has infected the postmodern church. Ladies and gentlement, I am not downplaying the fact that Christians get depressed, dysfunctional, and even sometimes mentally ill (after all, we live in a world full of darkness and despair, and pain, as hard as it is for most of us to admit, is a part of everyone's lives--whether or not they are Christian), but I AM saying that we need to look to the Bible (and more importantly, to Jesus) for our answers BEFORE we look to the theories of a science whose fonders denied the very existence of God. Think about it--if you had had a heart attack, and your doctor prescribed medication for you without having a clear idea of what happened inside your body, you would have every right to file for a malpractice suit, wouldn't you? However, if a psychologist were to prescribe medicines which are, in some cases, the equivalent of narcotics on the basis of a thin diagnosis that he or she cannot trace to a physical or mental "cause," it is simply standard medical practice within the field. I have done research on the major disorders that psychologists typically treat, and I have yet to see one of these disorders traced to a clear, identifiable and (more importantly) treatable CAUSE. However, we in 21st century America, thanks to a television media full of people who (a) do not hold Christianity, Christ, or Christians in high regard and (b) live their lives by the standards and guidelines of this world, take these diagnoses as if they are real diseases with real causes that have been discovered through real research.
Christians always need to live by TRUTH, whatever form that truth takes. The Bible says Jesus is the Truth, right? Then if we live by truth, and refuse to live by something we know is wrong (or feel in our hearts is wrong), then that life will always lead us closer to Jesus--the Way, the Truth, and the Life. Look at the Bible. Do you see Jesus telling people that if they go to group meetings every week, they'll go to Heaven? Do you see Jesus salving anyone's ego? Of course not. Jesus loves us too much to let us wander through our lives, blithely killing every shred of life within us, destroying the dignity of others--especially our neighbors and families--and turning the beautiful planet He gave us into a wasteland. That God--the same God who made you and me--loves us too much to let us keep destroying everything we touch, and He certainly loves us too much not to tell us the truth about what we are and where we have been. The sad fact is that psychology--like every other religion, science, or ideology that has come before it--is all about one thing: getting us to walk away from the God who created us. Why do you think people who are diagnosed with depression end up living the rest of their lives under medication and in therapy? It's because the sole mission of psychology--indeed, the sole mission of ANY religion--is to enslave its adherents.
Yes, we live in a world full of pain. That's sin--and its devastation has wrought a world full of misery and despair for every generation since Adam and Eve. I'm not saying, "Put on a happy face and pretend like your problems are over 'cause Jesus made 'em disappear." (I hate to break this to all of you new Christians out there, but not only does Jesus NOT make your problems disappear, but He also seems to add quite a few new ones (including persecution) to your plate.) However, the best way to deal with pain is FIND OUT WHY IT'S THERE. If we are willing to face the truth (a truth that we, as Christians, should always be willing to face) that we are sinners, that we live in a world full of death and damnation, and that our ONLY way out is Jesus Christ, then that truth will help us all get to the source of our pain. Pain is part of the human existence--all of us, from the broken man who has lost his wife and kids to crack, to the wife and mother of 4 who has cheated on her husband and is on the verge of a messy divorce, to the bereaved parent who is mourning the loss of her son, will taste of this bitter fruit. For Christians, this is a grievous fact of life, and I am afraid that too many of us wish it weren't there. However, just as pain in the human body serves to let us know that something is wrong, pain in the heart also lets us know that something is wrong--with this world but more importantly, with us. Deep inside, a believer in Christ should know that human nature is NOT murder and thievery and corruption, that at our core, we desire to be ambassadors of love and truth, but that only makes the realization of our fallen condition that much more heartbreaking.
Don't run away from pain. It's there for a reason--to let you know you're alive in a way that other people around you aren't. More importantly, it's there to let you know just what you're fighting for.
This is why I am very concerned about the extent to which psychology has infected the postmodern church. Ladies and gentlement, I am not downplaying the fact that Christians get depressed, dysfunctional, and even sometimes mentally ill (after all, we live in a world full of darkness and despair, and pain, as hard as it is for most of us to admit, is a part of everyone's lives--whether or not they are Christian), but I AM saying that we need to look to the Bible (and more importantly, to Jesus) for our answers BEFORE we look to the theories of a science whose fonders denied the very existence of God. Think about it--if you had had a heart attack, and your doctor prescribed medication for you without having a clear idea of what happened inside your body, you would have every right to file for a malpractice suit, wouldn't you? However, if a psychologist were to prescribe medicines which are, in some cases, the equivalent of narcotics on the basis of a thin diagnosis that he or she cannot trace to a physical or mental "cause," it is simply standard medical practice within the field. I have done research on the major disorders that psychologists typically treat, and I have yet to see one of these disorders traced to a clear, identifiable and (more importantly) treatable CAUSE. However, we in 21st century America, thanks to a television media full of people who (a) do not hold Christianity, Christ, or Christians in high regard and (b) live their lives by the standards and guidelines of this world, take these diagnoses as if they are real diseases with real causes that have been discovered through real research.
Christians always need to live by TRUTH, whatever form that truth takes. The Bible says Jesus is the Truth, right? Then if we live by truth, and refuse to live by something we know is wrong (or feel in our hearts is wrong), then that life will always lead us closer to Jesus--the Way, the Truth, and the Life. Look at the Bible. Do you see Jesus telling people that if they go to group meetings every week, they'll go to Heaven? Do you see Jesus salving anyone's ego? Of course not. Jesus loves us too much to let us wander through our lives, blithely killing every shred of life within us, destroying the dignity of others--especially our neighbors and families--and turning the beautiful planet He gave us into a wasteland. That God--the same God who made you and me--loves us too much to let us keep destroying everything we touch, and He certainly loves us too much not to tell us the truth about what we are and where we have been. The sad fact is that psychology--like every other religion, science, or ideology that has come before it--is all about one thing: getting us to walk away from the God who created us. Why do you think people who are diagnosed with depression end up living the rest of their lives under medication and in therapy? It's because the sole mission of psychology--indeed, the sole mission of ANY religion--is to enslave its adherents.
Yes, we live in a world full of pain. That's sin--and its devastation has wrought a world full of misery and despair for every generation since Adam and Eve. I'm not saying, "Put on a happy face and pretend like your problems are over 'cause Jesus made 'em disappear." (I hate to break this to all of you new Christians out there, but not only does Jesus NOT make your problems disappear, but He also seems to add quite a few new ones (including persecution) to your plate.) However, the best way to deal with pain is FIND OUT WHY IT'S THERE. If we are willing to face the truth (a truth that we, as Christians, should always be willing to face) that we are sinners, that we live in a world full of death and damnation, and that our ONLY way out is Jesus Christ, then that truth will help us all get to the source of our pain. Pain is part of the human existence--all of us, from the broken man who has lost his wife and kids to crack, to the wife and mother of 4 who has cheated on her husband and is on the verge of a messy divorce, to the bereaved parent who is mourning the loss of her son, will taste of this bitter fruit. For Christians, this is a grievous fact of life, and I am afraid that too many of us wish it weren't there. However, just as pain in the human body serves to let us know that something is wrong, pain in the heart also lets us know that something is wrong--with this world but more importantly, with us. Deep inside, a believer in Christ should know that human nature is NOT murder and thievery and corruption, that at our core, we desire to be ambassadors of love and truth, but that only makes the realization of our fallen condition that much more heartbreaking.
Don't run away from pain. It's there for a reason--to let you know you're alive in a way that other people around you aren't. More importantly, it's there to let you know just what you're fighting for.
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