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My New Podcast!

8/24/2020

Today, I'm officially launching The Gospel According to Star Trek Podcast!

This is really exciting and a long time in the works! I'm so happy to be teaming up with my longtime First Officer from the Undiscovered Country Project days on a brand new podcast! We're exploring Star Trek new and old from a Christian worldview perspective, as well as just generally being Trekkies.

Every week, we'll be covering Star Trek news, discussing relevant issues of theology and philosophy, and answering your questions!

The first episode is available now! We'll introduce the idea of the the podcast and talk Star Trek news and the fate of Kurtzman Trek. We also discuss the first three episodes of Lower Decks and answer the question that gives the episode its title: What is the Gospel According to Star Trek? In answering that question, Kevin also takes listeners on a walk through his book, The Gospel According to Star Trek: The Original Crew.

Find the podcast on Spotify and at Anchor.fm!

On Quora: Was Mr. Rogers a Televangelist to Toddlers?

12/7/2019

For the past couple of years, I've been writing answers on Quora, a website for, well, asking questions. I thought I'd begin sharing my answers here, starting with my latest, to the question, "Was Mr. Rogers a Televangelist to Toddlers?" (Incidentally, the question is in reference to the title of a CNN article by Daniel Burke.)

My Answer From Quora:
I’m rather rankled by Daniel Burke’s use of the term “televangelist” in the CNN piece to which this question refers. It makes for nice alliteration, grabs eyeballs, and alludes to the ministerial nature of Rogers’ work, but it does the latter of these in perhaps too crass a fashion for the subject matter. The term “televangelist” is, of course, fraught with almost nothing but questionable and even criminal figures, from Robert Tilton and Jimmy Swaggert, to Benny Hinn and Joel Osteen. While few televangelists have been convicted of such criminality as Jim Bakker (who, having served his prison time, is back on TV again), most have garnered criticism for lavish lifestyles, unmet promises, false testimonies, hucksterism, and fraud. This is hardly a group to which one could mildly compare Fred Rogers.

Rogers was, however, perhaps instructive of what the term “televangelist,” despite its somewhat clumsy etymology, should actually mean. Because if “evangelism” is to be understood as sharing God’s good news, Rogers certainly very intentionally engaged in just that. His television program was the ministry to which he was specifically charged when he was ordained by the United Presbyterian Church (UPCUSA) and the sacredness of that duty and calling was never far from—and in fact was constantly present in—Rogers’ mind.

Contrary to what others have noted in their answers, the program was not devoid of mentions of God or of church. They were rare, but they existed. These included, amongst others, a visit to a pretzel factory where it is explained that the shape of the pretzel represents arms folded in prayer and that the three spaces therein represent the three persons of the Trinity,[1] as well as the song, “Creation Duet,” which asserts at length that God is the maker of all things.[2] However, it is true that Rogers had no intention of pushing religion on children, of proselytizing, or of instructing children in religious matters. Still, his moral and spiritual grounding was a Christian one and he drew on many images from that tradition and from the Bible (rainbows, fish, communion, etc.) to share the essential message of Love.

There is a Christian foundation to Rogers’ work that CNN is right to point out. However, I would contend that there is perhaps more that is truly sacred in the Neighborhood program than there is in most of the programs to which the term “televangelism” would be more commonly applied.

On a secondary note, the Neighborhood program’s audience certainly includes toddlers, but it is hardly limited to them. Rogers was always aware that parents were watching too and he intended the program to be viewed and discussed by both children and their parents. While many of the basic ideas in the series are most suited to younger children, there is certainly no ceiling to the age of those who may find solace, wisdom, and hope in the Neighborhood. I, personally, have perhaps gained more from Rogers’ work as an adult than I did as a child—both before and since becoming a parent.

So, in both terms, “Televangelist,” and “Toddlers,” Burke fails to get it quite right here. But the article is good and worth a read, nonetheless.

What You Leave Behind - Trektember 2019

9/30/2019

My first viewing of “What You Leave Behind,” the series finale of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, came when I finally got around to watching the series in 2012. When the closing credits of the episode ended, I angrily yanked the earbuds out of my ears and tossed them on the floor. “I stayed up all night for this??“

I have never been so enraged by the ending of a series. It felt unfinished and unsatisfying. All I could think about was the numerous close friendships, romances, and family relationships the series had torn asunder in its final episode. There was heartbreak at every turn.

As a father, however, at that time of a two and a half year-old boy (who is now about to be ten years old), my greatest sadness was the idea that Ben Sisko’s as yet unborn baby was left without their father. This troubled actor Avery Brooks as well, as he didn’t want to see the stereotype of the absentee brown father perpetuated. This is a major reason (if not the sole reason) Ben returns to Kassidy and says he will return. Given that the Prophets exist outside of time, it is conceivable that they could chat with Ben for centuries and return him right back to when he left. So, there is hope buried in the melancholy and sadness.

The episode lives squarely in this realm, never fully allowing us to feel completely hopeful, but also never breaking forth into full-blown grief. It exists in a kind of middle ground, which is probably what I found so frustrating when I first viewed it.

I’m probably less angry about the episode--at least a little less--than I was back then. There’s more than just sadness, but the shock of seeing so many relationships split up has given way to head-shaking disappointment. DS9 was never too precious about such things and its writers made that clear in grand fashion in the series’ finale.

But then there’s that stubborn hope. It’s there. It’s present and palpable, even amidst the grief of separation. And that nagging hope is what keeps the episode from being completely deflating. When I was so determined to hate this story, it was irritating. But I’ve come to find it to be quite beautiful--more beautiful, perhaps, than if everything were left neatly tied up with a bow. In fact, there is a theological depth and a deeply human beauty to the ending of Deep Space Nine. I discovered it mere minutes after yanking out those earbuds and it’s been with me ever since, long having eclipsed my initial response.

What I left behind in my analysis of this episode was my anger. You can read about what I found in my capstone post for Reel World Theology’s Trektember 2019.

Aron Eisenberg: The River Will Provide

9/27/2019

In case you haven’t heard the news, Aron Eisenberg, the actor who played Nog on Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, has died. Aron was the star of the episode "It's Only a Paper Moon," which I discuss in my latest entry for Trektember 2019. Many consider it his greatest performance in that role. They may be right. Watching and writing about the episode days after his death was emotionally difficult for me, but an honor I could neither have planned nor requested.

There have been a lot of Star Trek deaths in my lifetime: Leonard Nimoy, Majel Barrett, DeForest Kelley, Jimmy Doohan, Grace Lee Whitney, Anton Yelchin, and of course Gene Roddenberry, to name a very few. Countless cast and crew members have died over the past 53 years. I’ve been saddened by them all, including ones, like Jeffrey Hunter, that occurred before my birth. But Aron’s was one I grieved.

He was 50 years old, just ten years older than me, and I admired him greatly. He took a goofy, little, raspy-voiced Ferengi kid who liked pulling pranks and getting into trouble and made him a multi-layered, textured, fully developed character. This was due, of course, to changes in how the character was written, but such changes would not have been possible if the writers didn’t trust their actor to deliver, if Eisenberg himself hadn’t begun to show that he could give depth and humanity to an alien character who could have been little more than a comic irritant.

I’ve never seen Eisenberg play any role but Nog (save his appearance on Star Trek: Voyager). I don’t know how good he was in other contexts. But I wouldn’t be surprised if this was his finest work. Some actors are limited by heavy makeup. Others, like Ron Perlman, Michael Dorn, Doug Jones, Armin Shimerman, and Max Grodénchik (all Star Trek performers) shine behind latex. Aron was one of those. And I have no idea if his acting skills translated as well when he didn’t have pointy teeth and giant ears. But behind and through all that rubber and the inherently comical nature of his character (recall his “growly dance” at Jadzia’s bachelorette party in Season Six), Aron Eisenberg made something deeply human and genuine in Nog. And that feat--that overcoming of a deck that seemed to be stacked against him as an actor--showed the skill and the soul he brought to his work and to his life.

Aron had health struggles all his life and was living on his second transplanted kidney. (Transplants save lives. Be a donor. #DonateLife) But his spirit and his energy were indomitable. By inhabiting the life of a weird little alien kid on Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Aron Eisenberg has inspired countless people who similarly feel the cards of life are dealt against them. But, as Vic tells Nog at the end of the episode, “All I can tell you is that you've got to play the cards life deals you. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, but at least you're in the game.” Aron played the game, by all accounts, with passion and vigor, making the most of everything he had. May the rest of us be inspired by him and Nog to have the courage to do the same.

Nog lives his life by the principle, “The river will provide.” Now, unlike Nog, I don’t particularly believe in the river of the Great Material Continuum. But I do believe in the River of the love of God and the presence of the Divine in this world. And I believe that where humanity is at its best, its brightest, and its most loving, the River flows. I see the river flowing in the work of Aron Eisenberg, as I do throughout Star Trek and so many of our creative human endeavors. And I know that, through the work he leaves behind, the river that flowed through Aron Eisenberg will continue to flow for generations to come.

Please contribute, if you are able, to the fundraiser for Aron's funeral costs, in support of his widow, Malíssa Longo.

You can also read my post on "It's Only a Paper Moon" at Reel World Theology, or start with my introductory post on the episode.

It's Only a Paper Moon - Trektember 2019

9/27/2019

I didn’t even realize until I started working on this piece that I was doing two episodes in a row about people dealing with trauma by immersing themselves in a fantasy world. In “Far Beyond the Stars,” Ben Sisko is immersed so heavily in the world of Benny Russell that he literally loses his sense of his own identity. This is apparently an experience given to him by the Prophets as he struggles with the death of his friend--one too many in a long string of deaths, setbacks, and disasters in the equally long war with the Dominion that causes him to question his own calling and consider leaving Starfleet. Through his experience, he realizes that he must press on, despite everything that comes against him, because he must finish the work he started.

Nog takes a similar journey in “It’s Only a Paper Moon.” His war injury causes him to want to withdraw from his whole life, including the life in Starfleet that he fought so hard to attain. He even threatens to resign his commission if Ezri won’t agree to allow him to take his medical leave in the holosuite. Nog doesn’t plan on this retreat. Jake tells him to go to the holosuite if he wants to keep listening to “I’ll be Seeing You” over and over. In that way, his journey to the fantasy world is almost as unplanned as Sisko’s. Through his experience, he too learns to push past his fears and pain and pursue his future in Starfleet and on Deep Space Nine.

What’s intriguing about the interplay between the two episodes is how different they feel from one another, despite their similarities. In his story, Sisko is Alice in Wonderland who has forgotten being Alice at all. In Nog’s story, his investment in the fantasy is more deliberate. He too loses himself in a particular epoch of American history (in this case, the 1960s instead of the 1950s), but of his own free will. And, while Sisko, now Benny Russell, yearns for something he seems to almost remember, but can’t quite touch, Nog seeks to avoid his memories and his other life. Sisko is struggling to find himself, while Nog just wants to get lost. Benny Russell wants badly to wake up from his reality into a dream that seems more real. Nog wants to stay dreaming so reality won’t catch up with him.

But “It’s Only a Paper Moon,” like “Far Beyond the Stars,” is about so much more than the dichotomy of fantasy and reality. It’s about what it means to have a soul and what it is to live without one. For more on that, see my latest post in Reel World Theology’s Trektember 2019 or click the image below.

You can also read my tribute to Aron Eisenberg right here.

Far Beyond the Stars - Trektember 2019

9/20/2019

This episode is one of the most unusual in Star Trek as it transports one of our characters to another time and place, but not as an outsider or observer. Captain Sisko literally becomes Benny and all the other characters in Benny's world, while they may look and sound something like people Sisko knows, are completely different individuals, entirely endemic to the world and the time they inhabit. This may, in fact, be entirely unique in the Star Trek universe, without precedent or antecedent.

It also stands as one of the most credible and artfully constructed period pieces in Star Trek history. The use of jazz music throughout and the attention given to every detail of set decoration and costume design makes it among the most immersive and believable of such Trek stories.

Avery Brooks anchors the episode as not only its central character but also its director. Brooks is one of the most skilled and sensitive directors in Star Trek and his camera movements, pacing, and sense of place are excellent. He imbues the world of Benny Russell with a life, warmth, and texture that allows us to be as immersed in the narrative as is Ben Sisko. Add to this Brooks' performance--a masterful blend of subtlety and dynamism--as well as that of the excellent DS9 ensemble playing whole new characters with verve and commitment and "Far Beyond the Stars" stands clearly among the finest episodes in the franchise.

The episode is also an example of Star Trek taking on a social issue directly. Where many Trek stories--especially in the Original Series, but throughout them all--deal with earth-bound, contemporary themes by means of metaphor and symbolism, "Far Beyond the Stars" plants us right in the midst of racial tensions in 1950s America.

Of course, this is still something of an indirect storytelling method, using a period in our past to ask us to think seriously about issues that remain of contemporary importance. By looking at racism in a more stark, but less current context, the audience is able to examine current racial conflicts within a larger context. Still, while race is an incredibly important topic in this episode, it is surely only a part of its larger, and core idea.

For my exploration of that idea, read my blog post at Reel World Theology, written as part of their annual Trektember event!

It's a Beautiful Day . . . to Announce My Next Book!

9/21/2018

Today marks the 51st anniversary of the taping of the first episode of Mister Rogers' Neighborhood, which was first broadcast 50 years ago, in 1968. It's an anniversary brought to my attention by today's Google Doodle and seemed a fitting occasion upon which to announce my next book:
The Gospel According to Mister Rogers' Neighborhood.

All things Rogers are hot this year, with the release of two documentaries, an official biography, and the announcement of a forthcoming film starring Tom Hanks, all in the 50th anniversary year of the series' premier. For me, though, the writing and publication of this book is the culmination of work I've been doing for more than a decade.

In that time, many excellent books have been written on Fred Rogers, including I'm Proud of You: My Friendship with Fred Rogers, by Tim Madigan, and The Simple Faith of Mister Rogers, by Amy Hollingsworth. Both books recount these journalists' relationships with Fred Rogers and the latter serves as something of a spiritual biography for the icon of children's television. Similarly, Michael G. Long explored the social and philosophical framework of the series in his book, Peaceful Neighbor: Discovering the Countercultural Mister Rogers.

Why, then, write another book on America's favorite neighbor?

Shortly after Fred Rogers' death in 2003, I read a brief article that recounted several then little known facts about him: He was red/green colorblind; he was teased as a child for being overweight; and most surprisingly to me, he was an ordained Presbyterian minister. I immediately marveled at what an amazing privilege it would have been to have attended at least one service at his church--or, better yet, to have been a regular member of his congregation.

Some time later, I learned that Fred Roger's ordination was completely unique. He had been ordained by the Presbyterian church specifically to minister to children and families through the medium of television. That led me to a simple, but profound revelation: I had been a member of his congregation all along.

It was this revelation, along with the birth of my son and my journey through the series with him some years later, that set me on a quest to find reflections of the gospel in sweaters, a trolley, and a tiger living in a grandfather clock.

Much like my Gospel According to Star Trek books (the second of which, The Gospel According to Star Trek: The Next Generation is also in the works), this volume will be an exploration of the Neighborhood program--specific episodes and themes, the neighbors and their roles in the series--asking, as I always do, what Christians can learn from a thoughtful engagement with the series. But it will also be examining the series, for the first time at such length, for what it always was: a Christian ministry.

The positive effect on my life as a child, an adult, and a father of this ministry and the man whose mission it was can hardly be overestimated, nor can my capacity to fall short of the ideals upon which it was based. My hope, then, is to share with you something of what I've learned and of what I'm still trying to learn from the show that first warmed my heart and comforted my soul in my earliest years.

Fred Rogers believed the space between the television set and the viewer had the capacity to truly become holy ground. I believe the same about the space between the book and the reader. Won't you be my reader? Look for The Gospel According to Mister Rogers Neighborhood from Cascade Books as early as next year.

For updates on this and all my forthcoming projects, as well as free chapters from The Gospel According to Star Trek: The Original Crew, you can sign up for my newsletter. I'll be sharing more of my thoughts on Mister Rogers' Neighborhood, Star Trek, and more in future blog posts.

I'm Writing on Star Trek: Discovery and The Orville!

9/10/2018

You may recall my participation last year in Trektember on the Redeeming Culture blog. I wrote posts on four episodes of Star Trek: The Next Generation. Well, Trektember has migrated to Reel World Theology this year and the focus is on Star Trek: Discovery and The Orville.

One of the most common questions I get at conventions and speaking engagements when I talk about the Gospel According to Star Trek series is whether there will be a Gospel According to Star Trek: Discovery. Well, I still don't know the answer to that. It will depend on how Discovery and the rest of the planned Star Trek series unfold. But, if you've been curious about my views on the series, you can read my thoughts on two of its episodes right now!

My posts on "The Butcher's Knife Cares Not for the Lamb's Cry" and "Choose Your Pain" are up on the Reel Theology site. With "Butcher's Knife," I found it helpful to follow a theme into "Choose Your Pain," which is the next episode in the series. This allowed me, in the "Choose Your Pain" post, to focus on some particulars of Christian engagement with the series--namely, addressing the infamous F-bombs and the introduction of Star Trek's most prominent gay couple.

Both posts are fairly lengthy, but I'm very pleased with them. These episodes are so rich with things to talk about that I could have written twice as much as I did! I hope you enjoy reading them and I'd love to hear from you about them in the comments or via email, Facebook or Twitter.

Later this month, I'll be doing posts on two episodes of The Orville, "Into the Fold" and "Cupid's Dagger." Keep an eye out on social media and my Web Writing page to see these posts when they go live. You can also sign up for my newsletter and get some free sample chapters as well!

Happy Trektember!

Dust You Are . . . Except You're Not.

2/14/2018

On Ash Wednesday, those of us who participate in the traditional liturgy will hear these words (or some version thereof), "Dust you are. To dust you will return." It's an awfully morbid feeling to hear those words, especially when spoken while your pastor or priest smudges ashes on your forehead--and especially for someone like me who did not grow up with this tradition. Why would a minister who constantly encourages, challenges, and affirms my humanity and my soul want to tell me I'm dust?

It certainly is a contemplation of physical mortality. But the fact that it occurs in a context that is intended to nurture the soul points to a dual purpose.

There are two things the "dust you are" line always remind me of. One is Star Trek: Nemesis. I know it's not everyone's favorite Trek film, but stay with me. In the opening scene, we witness the assassination of the entire Romulan High Command by means of thalaron radiation. As the radiation is released, within seconds, members of the High Command begin disintegrating and we watch as the are reduced to dust.

The scene sets up the central question of the film: Are we merely bodies or are we more than the sum of our DNA? This horrifying image--perhaps the most gruesome in Star Trek to that point--of people in agony, turning to dust, speaks to the frailty of physical form. Undo the DNA and a whole person is no more. Dust.

However, the film ultimately affirms the idea that we are indeed more than our physical makeup. Picard's central crisis in the film is, essentially, a crisis of the soul. Is he defined by his genetic makeup or is there something more to his existence? If so, what is it?

The other thing I'm reminded of is a line from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, "Dust thou art . . ." It comes from the poem "A Psalm of Life," in which Longfellow explores this tension between the temporary and fleeting nature of our existence and our desire to live for more than mere survival.

Tell me not, in mournful numbers, “Life is but an empty dream!”
For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal;
“Dust thou art, to dust returnest," Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow Finds us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world’s broad field of battle, In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle! Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant! Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,--act in the living Present! Heart within, and God o’erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing, With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing Learn to labor and to wait.

As the season of Lent begins, it is helpful to remember that our mortality need not be morbid. Instead, as Longfellow illustrates, contemplation of our mortality ought to lead us to action. The grave, indeed, is not the goal. But neither is the goal what lies beyond the grave. Instead, the life we live now is our calling and our investment. Remembering that it doesn't last should call us to pursue it ever more fully because therein lies the nurturing of our souls.

Watch the video below for more on Star Trek and the soul.

Happy First Contact Day! (Again!)

4/5/2017

Sometimes I like to revisit some of my older blog posts, especially as more new people follow me and The Undiscovered Country Project. So, with some minor updates, here's my blog post on First Contact Day from 2012.

Holidays usually celebrate past events. Not in Star Trek…

Nope, in Star Trek, we share a narrative history comprised of “future” events. So, why not celebrate them? Just as Riverside, Iowa, the home of Trekfest, proclaims itself (with Gene Roddenberry’s approval) “The Future Birthplace of Captain James T. Kirk,” so April 5th is officially recognized in the Star Trek world as the day we will make contact with the Vulcans.

For those of you who are wondering, the future day in question is April 5, 2063. (And the good Captain’s birthday is March 22, 2233. Don’t forget to send a card.)

Of course, none of us (well, almost none of us) actually expect this event to take place on the prescribed date–if at all. But, like all things Trek, it’s a fun way to celebrate our love of Star Trek and buy or sell a good bit of swag in the process.

With all this talk of celebrating future events, though, I can’t help but think of the way the followers of Yahweh God have looked forward to the future in the same way. The Jewish people looked forward to the return of Elijah and the coming of the Messiah. Elijah did return (John the Baptist) and the Messiah did come (Jesus). Now, Christians look forward to the return of Christ, when he will restore order to all Creation and bring his kingdom to Earth.

That’s why many Christian traditions celebrate Ascension Day, to remind us of Christ’s promise to return. But the Second Coming is also looked forward to in traditions surrounding both Advent and the current season, Easter. As we prepare to celebrate Jesus’ resurrection, we also look forward to his return. We share with First Contact Day, Kirk’s birthday and the recognition of other “future” events in Star Trek history the expectant hope that the future will be brighter than today and that our best lies ahead of us.

Like Star Trek’s vision of humankind’s future, the fullness of our destiny can be achieved; like its portrayal of an ever-advancing humanity, we can seek to bring the Kingdom of God here and now, not just there and then. However, unlike Star Trek’s calendar of the future, with precise dates for events that will not happen, the return of Christ cannot be known as an exact date, but can be known as a future fact.

No one—not even Jesus—may know the day or the hour, but we know the hope that comes with the consummation of salvation and the restoration of all things in Christ. It will be our Second Contact, but the greatest contact of all.

You can read my further analysis of Star Trek: First Contact and the rest of the adventures of Picard and company in my upcoming book, The Gospel According to Star Trek: The Next Generation.

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