Damian Tharcisius

Science Fiction as the Successor of Scripture


Science Fiction as the Successor of Scripture

Epigraph

“Let us not bandy philosophical nonsense. Every question can be boiled down to the one: ’Why is there anything?’ Every religious, business and governmental question has the single derivative: ’Who will exercise the power?’ Alliances, combines, complexes, they all chase mirages unless they go for the power. All else is nonsense, as most thinking beings come to realize”.

– Frank Herbert – Dune Messiah
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“You must save yourselves… You have ignored the ancient wisdom, you have been too indolent to learn, you have sought easy complacence from religion, rather than facing manfully to the world. I have resolved to impose a bitter experience upon you, which I hope will be salutary”.

Jack Vance – Dying Earth
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‘The Bible is a collection of fairy tales for adults’

– Damian Tharcisius

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‘Seek ye first the Kingdom of God, and his righteousness, and all these things will be added unto you’.

The often-cited verse from the gospel of Matthew (6: 33) is a bedrock for many who follow the teachings of Jesus Christ. Particularly among those who choose to center their faith primarily or solely on scripture, as opposed to the teachings of the Church. The idea of centering your life on Christ, at a personal level tends to revolve around the idea of pursuing God’s Kingdom, as opposed to one’s own.

By doing so-that is to obey the teachings of God and to have faith in his goodness-the faithful (somehow) stands to benefit from these other things. Things that the human heart naturally craves. Whilst much has been said and written on what constitutes the idea of ‘the Kingdom’, however inadequate and unsatisfying its explication, a perusal of what constitutes “these things” that Christ is referring to, is often overlooked.

The ‘things of this world’: that stimulate the urges, fuel the imagination, and elevate the desire of men. That which feeds the body but not (apparently) the soul. The sources of physical comfort and psychological satisfaction that humans instinctively seek, that also happen to be the things that open the door to temptation. The kind of (negative) language used to characterize what the human heart craves, is a fact of spiritual life the faithful are quite familiar with.

A view that engenders the notion that to pursue ‘the things of this world’ (a recurring expression), or even to desire them-which presupposes their absence-is to logically shift our gaze away from outcomes that would bring us closer to the divine. A view that is built on the notion that spiritual goodness and material wellness are contradictory realities. With material well-being associated with evil, and spiritual upliftment (whatever that means) with the good.

Whilst such a demarcation might appear extreme, it hasn’t stopped teachers/preachers of the Christian faith from adopting and propounding the view that the ‘things of this world’ are in a sense bad or at least pave the way towards moral corruption. Contrast this with what comes from God: the spiritual graces (that may or may not be tangible in nature) that are not only ‘good’ but in practice are diametrically opposed to, possibly the very presence of ‘these (material) things’.

The unwritten dominance of this exclusionary way of thinking that follows a formula:

Things of this world = bad; the spiritual (immaterial) things = good, Warrants a deeper look.

The Four Substitutes for the ‘God of Scripture’

Bishop Robert Barron, a popular Catholic preacher and educator, following the teachings of St. Thomas Aquinas, advances ‘the four substitutes’ for God: money, power, pleasure and honor. As the argument goes, the pursuit of these things shifts our focus away from God, adversely affecting our relationship with the divine. The Bishop posits the view that the pursuit of these things is based on the idea that having ‘these things’ will make the person “happy”. Which the Catholic Bishop argues is false (1).

This dictum that puts money, power, pleasure and honor as realities that are antagonistic towards one’s relationship with the divine is one of the unwritten, but central tenets that shapes the character of the Christian faith. Notably the Catholic one. And functions as a key pillar in the dominant psychology that underpins the Christian worldview: that pursuing, money, power, pleasure and honor are distractions at best, and often become a source of temptation that leads the heart of the faithful astray.

The problem with Bishop Barron’s view of happiness is a matter I have engaged in a dedicated essay. Here I will develop each of the ‘four evils’ and explain their (problematic) significance from the individual urge to fulfill human needs and wants but also its collective manifestation. The latter works into the humanistic impulse to make the world a better place in which life can flourish.

Money

One of the central features of Christ’s ministry is his apparent antipathy towards not only material riches but also those who possess it. Numerous passages in Scripture attest to this fact. From his encounter with the rich young ruler; his latter explication on the pathway to heaven and the danger of riches; on serving God or money; to the many teachings on the nature of the Kingdom of Heaven. All of which appears to preclude or at least work in opposition to the accumulation of wealth and what it entails. Worse, there is very little about the life and ministry of Christ that contains anything positive in relation to the accumulation of wealth and the comforts that money can buy:



‘Foxes have dens and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head’ (Matthew 8: 20).

To this one can add the underlying ethos of Christ’s ministry that appears fundamentally world-rejecting in its character. One that demanded his followers to forgo things in this world, and at a deeper level, the very urge to want those good things, in order to have better things in the next:

‘And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or wife or children or fields for my sake will receive a hundred times as much and will inherit eternal life’ (Matthew 19: 29).

So it is quite clear where our Lord Jesus Christ stands on the subject of money. Critically on what money can buy, and in turn the power (or the purchasing power) that it gives those in possession of it to direct their lives in the manner that they see fit. For the absence of money = poverty. And poverty = powerlessness resulting from the state of privation.

Such teachings and the anti-materialistic worldview it gives rise to, have come to shape the discourse within Christian circles and continue to inform and affect the conscience of the hundreds of millions that follow the Savior’s teachings. However, the question here is: is the apparent anti-materialism at the heart of the Christian faith, reserved only for those who choose to live a missionary life, or does it apply universally to the laity as well?

At this point, one may have heard of the difference between being a ‘believer of God’ vs. being a ‘follower of God’.

To be a believer in God is to operate in the world of economics, politics, and technology. Modernity in other words. That is to be committed to the spiritual destiny of the soul, whilst working to integrate the Fallen physical world with the unfolding spiritual realm.

To be a follower of Christ (God) on the other hand is to still exist in the secular (materialistically oriented) world but work towards directly advancing the ends of the spiritual order. This is managed by enlisting in religious orders, choosing a life of chastity, poverty and obedience, and effectively living apart from the real world, whilst hoping for the eventual conversion of the many and/or the coming of the Kingdom in rapture to make everything right. Many of Christ’s radical teachings apply to those of the latter group.

Whilst an argument can be made that to follow the teachings of Christ, one must do so fully, in practice however, this is not attainable. Considering the fact that those who are able to actually live such a way of life are hopelessly reliant on the more productive segments of society (i.e. those who do not embrace the virtues of poverty, chastity and obedience) to finance/subsidize their way of life, and are responsible for building the institutions (infrastructure, industries, economic systems) upon the Church and other religious orders are dependent for their survival.

Whilst our Lord did teach that the poor (or the poor in spirit) are blessed, I have, and presumably many others, have made the argument that the ‘blessedness’ of poverty whether material or spiritual lies in the future: That is the reward that awaits those who manifest not exactly the reality of destitution, but the humility of spirit that constantly yearns for God’s wisdom and guidance. It is this kind of ‘poverty’ that Christ, I believe was talking about.

The Deuterocanonical book Ecclesiasticus (Sirach) has an insightful take on the subject of poverty and humility:

‘There are three kinds of men I hate, for their manner of life I consider loathsome:
a pride-filled poor man, a lying rich man, and a lecherous old fool’ (Sirach 25: 2).

One way to approach the question of poverty and the dangers associated with it, is that wealth gives those in possession of it greater leeway when it comes to the question of pride. Whilst vanity is a sin, it is something that is inextricably tied to the most human of conditions: the ego: That is the want to be recognized and respected. Something, even the most lowly of humans naturally feel, and is quite integral to the personality of a healthy person. A point I will return to on the subject of honor.

For it is the ego (pride) along with the threat of legal/social retribution that separates men from the worst of crimes. Crimes that ‘ego-less’ beasts instinctively revel in. Thievery is a notable example. To be branded a thief is a humiliation one is compelled to live with long after the sentence is complete. The same applies to any other crimes that are illegal but also dishonorable.

So the danger of pride can be greatly negated with riches. The danger of riches, notably vanity, as we shall in the next section can be mitigated by the correct use of power, not the absence of it. As money and power are intrinsically linked.

Before I go further, for those who argue that ‘money is the root of all evil’, or that ‘the love of money is the root of all evil’ I will recommend they read Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged. A very controversial book on the Left and the Right end of the political spectrum, but is one of the few works in the Western canon that provides an unapologetic defense of the value of not just money, but what it represents and underlies its creation.

Whilst yours truly has a number of problems with the worldview advanced by the author of Atlas Shrugged (her atheism being one of them) her celebration of the capitalist ideal is noteworthy. Here I will leave you with a few passages from her magnum opus:

‘So you think that money is the root of all evil?” [..] “Have you ever asked what is the root of money? Money is a tool of exchange, which can’t exist unless there are goods produced and men able to produce them. Money is the material shape of the principle that men who wish to deal with one another must deal by trade and give value for value. Money is not the tool of the moochers, who claim your product by tears, or of the looters, who take it from you by force. Money is made possible only by the men who produce. Is this what you consider evil?

When you accept money in payment for your effort, you do so only on the conviction that you will exchange it for the product of the effort of others. It is not the moochers or the looters who give value to money. Not an ocean of tears nor all the guns in the world can transform those pieces of paper in your wallet into the bread you will need to survive tomorrow. Those pieces of paper, which should have been gold, are a token of honor—your claim upon the energy of the men who produce. Your wallet is your statement of hope that somewhere in the world around you there are men who will not default on that moral principle which is the root of money. Is this what you consider evil? […]

‘Or did you say it’s the love of money that’s the root of all evil? To love a thing is to know and love its nature. To love money is to know and love the fact that money is the creation of the best power within you, and your passkey to trade your effort for the effort of the best among men. It’s the person who would sell his soul for a nickel, who is loudest in proclaiming his hatred of money—and he has good reason to hate it. The lovers of money are willing to work for it. They know they are able to deserve it’ (2).

Power

Power is a routinely demonized, poorly understood and negatively characterized term. One that is, again unsurprisingly, the predictable whipping boy of the (powerless) religious.

I once again turn to Bishop Barron who in singing the song of the four evils, in highlighting the dangers of money, throws in ‘power’ as a bane that the faithful must reject. But what is power? How do you define power? What is it about power that makes it anathema to religious sensibilities?

The first problem point is political. The term power has gotten a rotten reputation owing to its association with politics. This is understandable. Politics is fundamentally about power: winning elections, securing seats, and ascending the halls of… power, have all contributed to the bad publicity and the resulting negativity towards the word ‘power’. This is owing to the poor leadership, bad governance, terrible policies and self-serving behavior, to outright corruption by the ruling political class.

The associated infamy aside, a key characteristic of power is its indispensable nature. For the astute observer it becomes clear that power is central to virtually everything we do, and critically, what we do not, or are unable to do. The reason why power is sought after, not only by politicians, but by businessmen, unions, artists, athletes, students and yes, even the religious, is that power gives the person or group in possession of it, the ability to do something, something important. Something that they otherwise would not be able (powerless) to do.

Power, in simple terms, means the capacity to do things. To exercise power presupposes the capacity to achieve or attain it. And power, like money, is valued because it does not come easy. Staying on the topic of politics; its insalubrious reputation and the notoriety attached to those in, or who are seeking political power, connects with its ultimate significance. Say what may, the politician, either democratically, autocratically, or bureaucratically exercises considerable control over the lives of the citizenry. Thus having some say in affecting the destiny of the governed.

The fact that politics is a dirty game is indicative of the great incentive that is attached to the rewards that lie at the end. Those who compete for political power are in some ways compelled to play dirty, given the nature of the competition and the desirability of the rewards.

When it comes to Christianity, the central figure Jesus Christ is often portrayed, and in practice understood as this humble, lowly figure. The image of the outwardly powerless (and penniless) wanderer who preached the significance of love, fellowship and care for the poor is the romanticized version of the gospel narrative that many of us have gotten used to. The loving shepherd who gave up his life for his friends by dying a cruel death on the Cross is presented as an epitome of… power? Or is it powerlessness?

Christ, who despite being all-powerful chose to die a horrible death, a death that stripped him of his power and dignity, but then was raised up as a mighty symbol of God’s love for his Creation (John 3:16). The greatness of the divine act of self-sacrifice lies in the divinity of Christ, who being one with God could have chosen a different fate. So the powerlessness of Christ is a paradoxical validation of his limitless power!

By giving up the power, prestige and honor to die a humiliating death, axiomatically affirms the importance of power, and the kinds of choices it gives the holder. The love of Christ to lay down his life for his friends only becomes meaningful when it comes from a man who has great or ultimate power. Which Jesus as the second member of the Trinity did.

So the problem for the faithful is what aspect of God are we to uphold: The all-powerful being who could do anything or the humble servant who gave up everything?

Throughout the history of the Church, notably in times of persecution, the ideal of the lamb of God is one that the faithful have chosen to uphold. One that continues to drive the mentality of the persecuted Church, which curiously (or morbidly) seems to derive some kind of spiritual justification from enduring pain, suffering and ignominy.

The problem with this view is that we the faithful are not God. We are not in the position of holding great or absolute power, or anything close to it. To have great power in the first place and then by choice to eschew it all in favor of service and sacrifice. This is not the normal state of affairs.

Whilst the title of being children of God was enabled through the coming of Christ, it does nothing (or almost nothing) to change the reality of the powerlessness of the masses. The reality the faithful are faced with when confronted with the sword of a Roman executioner or the knife of an ISIS cutthroat is what it is: the powerful wielding power over the powerless. The persecuted (Christians) in this case, are truly powerless, exemplified by their utter inability to affect the events and the world around them. To lay down their lives is not a choice but an ordeal they are compelled to endure.

Whilst Christians profess faith in an almighty God, who can, in theory, do anything. The problem however lies in the fact that he does… not? Or, at least that divine power is not a reliable force when faced with the complex, ever-present ordeals of life.

If one looks at the ministry of Christ: one that involves numerous acts of healing, provisioning, and even reviving (raising the dead to life). It was a ministry where Christ did not shy away from manifesting his divine power to solve very real, very human problems. Notably on occasions when his authority was questioned. To be able to forgive sins (as God the Father is able to) and be able to heal men of incurable ailments (Mark 2: 1-12).

The problem is that this power is no longer accessible to the faithful. Leaving aside the random, unverifiable acts of miracle-working claimed by eccentric religious ministers; the fact is the power Christ exhibited when he cast out demons, healed the sick, fed the hungry, and brought the dead to life is no longer available. Not at scale, and not in an empirically verifiable manner, that is recognized by the medical community.

Whilst the faithful can no doubt pray to God and ask for healing, blessing, and other graces; the fact is the power of God, as it was showcased by the Son of Man and some of his followers during the early Church now seems lost. When one prays to God for a miracle, one is in principle hoping, hoping and possibly dreaming that something good will happen despite the innumerable odds.

It is like that scene in Shakespeare’s Henry IV when the leaders of the rebel armies Hotspur, Worcester, Mortimer, and Glendower are gathered at the Archdeacon’s house to discuss the forthcoming conflict. When the deeply mystical Owen Glendower the leader of Welsh rebels, presuming the course of the war as already decided in his favor, immerses himself in the pagan beliefs. At one point claiming the ability to command the spirits of the underworld, to which the more grounded and calculating Henry Hotspur responds with:

‘Why, so can I, or so can any man;
But will they come when you do call for them?’ (3).

Whilst the power of God is omniscient and the centrality of Christ as the bridge between the Creator and the Created remains undisputed, a big question mark remains over what becomes of that power and the Christ-enabled connection between God and his creation. What has become of Christ’s promise made to his followers in the Last Supper:

‘Very truly I tell you, whoever believes in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these because I am going to the Father. And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it’ (John 14: 12-14).

Has this promise come to pass?

Do the followers of Christ today, the hundreds of millions (who take the faith seriously enough) showcase the power of the Spirit to manifest such feats? And most critically, does the act (prayer) of asking God for anything, however good, urgent and needed logically and necessarily produce the desired outcome, simply because one asks for it in the Lord’s name?

One observation that can be made with a degree of confidence is that faith in God, concerning his limitless power, remains measured or limited by his capacity to act freely in this world. Specifically with regards to his willingness or capacity to respond to prayers, however genuine and heartfelt. One that provides the believer with the illusion of power.

There is a certain confidence the faithful are able to draw from the belief that there is a greater power above every other power-temporal or spiritual-and the guaranteed reward of eternal life that awaits the faithful. This (thought process) acts as an impelling force that guides the thoughts and actions of the faithful in the here and now, despite the apparent impotence/non-existence of divine power in its actuality. Notably in solving real-world problems in real-time.

For example, the notion that ‘God provides’, or that ‘God will do it’, rests on the belief that something good will happen because one believes so. But it does not say when, how or in what way. So the believer is able to derive a sense of comfort from such a belief, with the true realization of the desired outcomes remaining a big question mark.

Thus belief in eternal life becomes a major (ultimately, the only) facet of God’s power that can be asserted with any degree of certainty. For it is the promise of what lies beyond the boundary of death, upon which no human power can have an effect. What takes place after/beyond death is the realm where God’s action cannot be impeded, where the power of faith rules.

To summarize, the problem with power stems from the poor understanding of its conceptual foundations and its negative association with politics and the exploitative excesses of private individuals. Despite the centrality of power to virtually everything we do, the fact that power has become a maligned term within Christian circles is due to the fact that power, like money, is something of value, that only the most knowledgeable, skilled, competitive, and yes, ruthless are able to attain.

Since power, like money, is hard to come by, makes it unappealing to many who do not have it, or preceding that, those who are unable or unwilling to exhibit the requisite qualities to attain it. Thus for many (notably the Christian), the concept of an all-powerful God, who chooses to renounce his abilities and resources, becomes a paradoxical source of fascination. It is paradoxical, for the central reason why people worship God is not because he is powerless, but because is powerful. So powerful in fact, that he can do what no Earthly power can: bring the dead back to life.

So Christianity today has regressed to the state of a religion that follows the meek and lowly example of Christ, as opposed to the reality of an all-powerful and all-knowing divinity. Whose faith, is yet curiously based on the uncertainty surrounding the reality and character of his great power. Hence the faithful have weirdly but understandably come to abhor the goodness and freedom that power embodies; namely, the freedom it gives those in power to choose their future and shape their destiny. Whilst still relying on the graces of a God who is all-powerful.

Pleasure

In the 10th chapter of the gospel of Mark, we encounter the story of the rich young man. It is one of the many instances in Jesus’s life where he speaks critically of riches. Arguably this particular instance is the most piercing, as Christ follows up this encounter with the famous analogy of ‘the eye of the needle’ in addressing his apostles on the subject of riches.

Now there are a number of ways of (critically) reading Christ’s negative attitude towards not only wealth but on what money can buy. On the danger of riches, the reader at this point might be wondering if this subject is better engaged under the heading of money. A fair point. However, what is often missed in debates surrounding riches and the apparent dangers surrounding them, is their social and economic significance.

The view that relying on wealth and possessions can potentially act as a deterrent or inhibiting force, that would prevent the wealthy from having a meaningful connection with God, is argumentative. Money could become a source of temptation leading to self-indulgence. However, what is generally overlooked in these debates on money and God, is the question: What money can do for you in relation to other good things in life?

Getting to the topic at hand is the correlation between money and pleasure. The view that ‘money buys happiness’ is a truism, that despite great opposition from religious, mystical and ascetic worldviews, has stood the test of time. This is a point that needs further elaboration.

Role of Money in Pleasure

Arguably since the dawn of primitive exchange economies, where having something of value that can be traded for things you wanted of equitable value was a question of survival. And the trade in goods and services for those involved in the process, in the long run, contributed to human flourishing as trade increased. A process that was accelerated with the entry of money as a unit of exchange and store of value. The use of money contributed to the growing value of the goods traded and the sophistication of the economic system (marketplace) that emerged as a result. One that has continued ever since.

Here it is worth mentioning that economics, a social science, whose inner workings the religious have never truly come to terms with. The modern followers of Christ continue to operate out of a rather primitive conception of how human social relations are shaped in relation to products and services that money buys. They fail to grasp the centrality of exchange, and of the nature of human motivation that underpins value creation. With pleasure the logical output of the purchasing and consuming activity.

In the story of the rich young man (or ruler) Christ challenges him on a subject that he was naturally vulnerable: his wealth. As the young man was doing everything else right morally speaking. The attention of the reader, and the Christian tradition ever since, wrongly I would argue, has centered on ‘the failure’ on the part of the rich young man to forgo his wealth for the sake of the kingdom. And not on his ability to follow the laws of God, which is an impossibility for most. Going further, what has also been overlooked is the question of how the rich young man came to be so rich in the first place, and how he managed to keep his wealth intact.

The Maslowian Hierarchy

Getting rich and staying rich are not the same thing and both, barring crazy luck, require a tremendous amount of work, wit, and determination to attain and maintain. The unspoken fact of life is that to be wealthy is a naturally blessed condition as opposed to being poor, which is an accursed one.

Being rich meant that the young man was able to meet his basic needs, but also had the capacity to meet his other ‘higher’ wants or expectations, that correlate with states of mind like yearning, ambition and aspiration.

This is known in business economics and business psychology as the Maslowian hierarchy. One that structures the nature of human needs and wants in an ascending pyramid that grows in complexity and expansiveness once the needs and wants that encompass the previous stage are fulfilled. The hierarchy of human needs and wants is deeply connected with the nature of human motivation and the relationship one has with oneself and with the world.

Abram Maslow’s hierarchy starts with base-level physiological needs of food, clothing and shelter; to safety needs that pertain to protection from harm; this presupposes a stable social order, protection from theft and physical harm. Moving to ‘emotional needs’ that deal with subjects of love, a sense of belonging and sex (though certain classifications put sexual needs at the base level).

Next stage of the pyramid we find ‘esteem needs’ that deal with having social recognition; to be valued by one’s peers and by society at large. The final stage in the Maslowian hierarchy self-actualization, is not of concern at this point.

In the story of the rich young man, when Christ says that to become his follower (as opposed to remaining a mere believer) he had to forgo not only the wealth but also everything that it enabled or brought forth. Notably, and this goes without saying, the ability to lead a fulfilling life.

When one reads further down, as Christ addresses his apostles it becomes evident that to be his follower one can have no part in any of the things that make us human:

‘Yes,” Jesus replied, “and I assure you that everyone who has given up house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or property, for my sake and for the Good News, will receive now in return a hundred times as many houses, brothers, sisters, mothers, children, and property—along with persecution. And in the world to come that person will have eternal life. But many who are the greatest now will be least important then, and those who seem least important now will be the greatest then’ (Mark 10: 29-31).

There is a lot to unpack here. To do so fully will require an essay (or book) length treatment. For now, I will focus on the line: ‘for my sake and for the Good News’. Here Christ is clearly drawing attention to the evangelical significance of his mission. And what it practically means for those who seek to follow him and to carry out his evangelical mission.

The trouble starts when the idea of following Christ is conflated with the attainment of eternal life. It goes without saying not everyone can be a follower of Christ: that is a disciple or apostle. Someone who forgoes not just ‘money’ in terms of cash and coins, saving and investments, but also to be without the things, opportunities and experiences that he/she could have when such financial means are available.

Look again, Christ in saying that to be his follower one must reject everything that money can buy, also categorically rejects or in principle opposes what money enables or paves the way for: family, friends, social connections, status and what underpins most of them: sex.

When one speaks of pleasure, it is natural (particularly for a sex-starved mystic or celibate) to think solely of the act itself. That is to have intercourse outside the bounds of marriage and presumably minus the goal of procreation. However, pleasure means many things in a human context. It could mean the simple act of enjoying a piece of chocolate, having a gourmet dinner at a 5-star restaurant, to spending a classy week-long vacation in Alpes-Maritimes with your sweetheart on the southeastern coast of France.

Sex, the act, and preceding it, the relational dimension (that presupposes non-transactional sex) requires work. Sex doesn’t just happen. Pleasure is both an activity and a lifestyle. To have access to the sources of pleasure and have the capacity to derive it, money functions as a key requisite. Something which the wandering mystic, or the life-long celibate is never going to understand let alone have.

Returning to the Maslowian hierarchy, it is easy to forget that at the basis of the pyramid lies survival. In order to survive: that is to feed, clothe and shelter yourself in the modern world, you need money. To feel secure you need to live in a society where theft and murder are punished. This requires resources. Either to move to a suitable environment or have the means and the know-how to shape the external world to your liking, if reality is not conducive.

When it comes to love which correlates with attraction, desire, and of course sex; money, and critically what money is associated with: higher status, are key factors. Particularly from the standpoint of men. And Christ, as we know was a lifelong celibate, so this aspect of life clearly did not apply to him and his teachings on the subject of sex, reflected that sensibility.

It is no coincidence that millionaires, billionaires, and celebrities have no problem securing partners regardless of age or station in life. This point is a banality that needs no citation. On the flip side consider the plight of tens of millions of nobodies (men) who have little or nothing to call their own, and who by virtue of their station in life (poverty and anonymity) are not desired by women-who are characteristically hypergamous-and are logically excluded from high society and left to eke out a living slaving away for people who have a lot of money (capital).

For such men, pleasure is a luxury they simply cannot afford. And thus, somewhat perversely, it is for these kinds of people that the teaching on ‘the evil’ of pleasure will most resonate. A human scenario of Aesop’s ‘Fox and Grapes’.

Returning to the question of what it means to be a follower of Christ in relation to the question of pleasure, warrants a deeper look at the meaning of Christ’s coming in relation to his teachings. For the Good News of Jesus Christ, if it really is to be the ‘good news’ then it needs to be much more than a moral road map for faithful to live a holy life here on Earth in order to be deemed worthy to enter the pearly gates of heaven. This is a point I will engage at a latter point in this essay.

The takeaway for now, is that if one ventures to, as most do, to adopt a literal reading of the passages that speak of eternal life, riches in heaven, and divine rewards in the world hereafter; one must, for the most part then cease to function as human in the here and now. What it calls for is not just the giving up of the joys that stem from possessions, riches, relationships and intimacy but the very pursuit of these.

This reductive view of Christian Salvation calls for the rejection of our dreams. The want, the desire and the yearning to have, attain and achieve things that make life worth living: property, security, family and underpinning them all, riches. All of which correlates with pleasure: a term that encapsulates human sensations, notably our capacity for them, and works as a positive signal to reinforce our minds of what we are doing or the outcomes we choose to pursue are connected with something good.

For the opposite of pleasure is pain. And if one asserts the falsity, depravity, or pointlessness of pleasure, as the clerical class often (hypocritically) do, then it logically means that pain is elevated as the most significant.

Returning to Bishop Barron, in a video on the sacrament of Confirmation, he posits the centrality of the Cross as the alternative ‘center’ for the lives of the young faithful. That persons who seek to follow and live in accordance with the will of God must emulate the self-sacrificial way of Christ that culminated with his death on the cross.

This is problematic.

Whilst the Cross is the natural reference point for the followers of Christ, especially the Catholics who view it as a symbol of God’s love for mankind. However, to elevate the Cross, one that features a ravaged, naked, humiliated man as the endpoint of the Christian life, is to uphold a sadomasochist symbol.

Christ’s love for humanity is showcased by the redemptive power of his love, one that was manifested by his Resurrection. When life prevails over death. God over Satan. The victory of joy and hope marks a new beginning over the apparent finality of physical demise.

This is a major problem point at the heart of the Christian faith. One that fosters a self-denying, self-undermining, self-hating and ultimately self-harming belief that entrenches and perpetuates a sadomasochistic view of self, life and ultimately of man’s relationship with God.

Hence the embrace of, what is essentially an anti-humanistic worldview that a simplistic reading of scripture mandates, giving rise to a way of life where anything pleasurable is logically considered as bad, sinful, or is a source of temptation coming from ‘the devil’. Forcing the believer into adopting a mental and physical state where one feels nothing (good), and lives solely for the sake of… death.

Since death is the only path to heaven or paradise; and heaven is a place where human joys of sex, family, edible delicacies, nourishing drinks, and physical comforts of a luxurious abode are presumably no longer accessible. Since these are joys of ‘the flesh’ they are to be conceived as something alien to the godly realm.

So the ‘Good News’ that is being preached here is one of self-denial and self-negation in the fullest sense. For these are realities that correspond to a state of my mind that is closer to death. If one is to interpret the Christian message as such, then it is not really ‘Good News’.

To be a follower of Christ according to this anti-humanistic reading, would be to resign oneself to a state of being a world-rejecting, self-rejecting and life-rejecting automaton. One whose way of life functionally resembles an adherent of Manichaeism: a worldview, and variations of it pervasive among world-rejecting religions that embrace the notion that the world (and the body) are irredeemably fallen. A worldview that is doctrinally anti-Christian.

So the answer to this problem is to look at the Redemptive mission of Christ from the standpoint of the Resurrection. Which the Christian traditions, notably the Catholic one seem to ignore or appear functionally opposed to, besides commemorating it as a single feast day: Easter.

If the Resurrection is to be the beginning of a new Redeemed creation, then every day should be marked out to celebrate the Resurrection of our Lord. The Son of Man who overcame death.

Honor

A hymn that I remember listening to growing up is: ‘To be like Jesus’. One that was constantly replayed in Churches and Christian environments that I used to frequent. I never liked it. Probably because I didn’t like spending too much time in religious localities in the first place, but this song did sound terrible. A part of the hymn’s chorus goes as follows:

‘I only ask
To be like Him’.

If someone asks: what does being like Jesus mean to you? One could respond in a number of ways. But the response, however different, would likely center on a number of qualities that our Lord exhibited. Like during the Passion, where the image of Christ as this humble, lowly, giving, forgiving person was all on show during the climatic moments of his life.

Now that I have mentioned the Passion, if the person answering the question happens to be Catholic, the simple answer would be to point to the Cross and what it signifies. The image of a ravaged, broken man hung up on a Roman execution device: battered, bruised and humiliated. Naked, robbed of all power and dignity, the ignominious throne that was to be the end for the King of Kings would be the natural choice.

Returning to our dear friend Bishop Barron, in the same video on the sacrament of Confirmation, the Catholic cleric cites the four negatives: the evils that the followers of Christ are supposed to turn away from. Of four that I have already engaged: money, power and pleasure; the fourth: honor, which the faithful are supposed to reject, in order to say ‘yes’ to the good Lord, is arguably the most problematic.

If one looks at money, power and pleasure, the real trouble with these is their excess. Too much money is possibly a bad thing. Not for everybody. But for some. With power, the problem lies with the total absence of power, and again for some, the excess of it. In the later case, resulting from the lack of checks and balances on the exercise of power. Power corrupts as the argument goes, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. But not necessarily. Pleasure, as I have argued lies not in the reality of pleasurable things and opportunities, nor in our capacity to derive it, but in how we go about doing so.

Honor, however, is something different. To say that honor is evil or that the prospect of seeking honor, and what it means in practice: to have status, is a promise of the devil that must be shunned, logically implies the opposite. That to say ‘yes’ to God, one must be dishonored.

There is really no middle ground here. The opposite of honor is not ‘a little’ honor. That makes no sense. If one is to break it down further, the opposite of having social status is to have none of it. If honor is evil, or something that comes from the devil, then to have no honor would, as I will argue, pave the way for corruption.

Returning to the image of Crucified Christ, the fact that the Catholic Bishop and indeed much of the Christian tradition upholds this moment of the Savior’s life as the single greatest act of God’s love for mankind and as the most important event in the Messianic mission to save humanity from the power of Sin is, upon deeper scrutiny, deeply problematic.

This is a difficult point to grasp, considering how the suffering, humiliation and death of Christ have been normalized. With Mel Gibson’s 2004 rendition of the last hours of the life the Son of Man arguably the ‘best’ representation that visually captures the governing psyche of the masses. However, this singular, and for the most part reductive understanding of the saving mission of Christ is problematic.

To break this down, one must understand the nature of Christ’s mission to this world. His role in coming into this world was to liberate man from the power of Sin. Which had enslaved humanity, with the consequences of sin being, sickness, suffering and death. What this means is that anything that is associated with death: pain, illness, injury, hurt, humiliation and yes, even old age (which certain modern medical experts classify as an illness in itself) all correspond to the reality of death.

Death is the sum of all that is bad, ugly, disguising, negative and wicked in this world. Death whilst an undeniable part of human existence, is something that all of us wish to avoid, negate, deny and work to stay away from. To be a bit cynical, it is the reason why wealthy, powerful men prefer young, attractive nubile women. Because their youth and beauty correspond to life. Which they naturally prefer, and thus logically reject the decay, and the dry lifelessness of menopause and frigidity that characterizes old(er) women.

Christ’s mission in coming into this world to save humanity was to break the power of Satan who exercised his control via the reality of Sin. And the physical manifestation of Sin is death and decay. So Christ, in overcoming the power of death through the Resurrection is undoing the hold the dark powers had over creation. The doctrine that in dying Christ destroyed death is true for deeper reasons that one may immediately grasp.

Consider this: If Christ, following the Crucifixion had stayed dead, his teachings, his miracles, his kindness, his generosity and his love would have been for nought. In life, there is nothing more ignominious than being laid to rest. But Christ rose again from the dead. His victory over death is the greatest act of human triumph in history. So in rising from the dead Christ became a true symbol of God’s power made manifest in this fallen world, where death, until then had always triumphed.

In rising from the dead Christ attained the most honorable position conceivable. Death (besides eternal torture and humiliation) is the worst thing that can happen to a human being. Thus it is to the most honored state of the ‘Resurrected Christ’ rather than the ‘Crucified Christ’ that we must direct our gaze. Here I must vehemently disagree with St. Paul when he proclaimed:

‘but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles’ (1 Corinthians 1: 19).

The filthy sadomasochism that is at the heart of this verse, and much of St. Paul’s theology in general, one that mars the entirety of the faith is something I have looked into. This is an ongoing work and those interested can read more about it here: St. Paul and the Problem with Christianity Part I

Whilst the Crucifixion is often understood as the climatic moment when Christ destroys death, the true meaning of Christ’s love and limitless power is concertized in his rising from the dead to life. Everlasting life. To never die again.

 

This truth is contrary to what St. Paul, Bishop Barron, and much of Catholic tradition’s functionally necrophiliac worldview, one that upholds a life-hating faith that is centered on the image of a ravaged, humiliated, naked corpse. This needs to change. The true center of our faith must be on the honored status of Christ the Resurrected King of Kings who reigns with the Father in the union with the Holy Spirit, one God forever and ever.

The question then is: why has the Christian world moved away from this hopeful, uplifting, energizing, awe-inspiring reality of God as all-powerful, glorious, kingly and divine?

In addition to role of St. Paul and the masochists in the Catholic hierarchy, a critical factor that has given rise to this anti-humanism has been the world-rejecting, and logically life-rejecting character the Christian faith has devolved into, or rather has failed to evolve away from. This negative outlook on life has resulted from the normalization of life’s negatives under different (euphemistic) terms:

  • Dishonor = Self-sacrifice.

  • Humiliation = Humility.

  • Pain = Sacrifice.

  • Deprivation = Poverty.

  • Isolation = Chastity.

  • Sexlessness = Purity.

With Christ-that is a select portrayal of him-held up the exemplar, one that has contributed to an utterly bleak image of God, life and humanity. Its primary effect is that God as reality and concept, is now advanced as a thoroughly disempowering force that works against the advance of human life. To believe in God and serve him effectively entails living a life that embodies all of the listed negatives. Enshrining a gloom-ridden image of God and man.

The question I will ask again is why? Why has Christianity for the most part (if one excludes the prosperity gospel strain of Protestantism-which comes with its own set of problems) come to, not just embody this negativity but appear to revel in it? The answer is that faith in Jesus Christ for a variety of historical, theological, cultural and institutional reasons has shifted its gaze away from an Earthly vision of human upliftment to a purely transcendental view of reward and punishment.

Unfortunately for the religious, the rest of the world is not prepared to stick around and wait for kingdom come to find joy, have meaning and lead a life of purpose and creativity. This takes us to the subject of science fiction. Which has (or is becoming) the new mystical basis of human inspiration guiding the aspirational minds of the modern world into the future.

What is Science Fiction?

First to work through the terminology. By ‘science fiction’ I am not talking about speculative fiction. Which is a more encompassing term that includes elements of fantasy, horror, history and interestingly, science, or a fictionalized representation of science in literary form.

There is some debate within the circle of writers who write in the genre on the meaning and application of the term ‘science fiction’. In a popular discussion from 1982 featuring the-then stalwarts of the genre Gene Wolfe, Isaac Asimov and Harlan Ellison, there was disagreement on the appropriateness and adequacy of the term ‘science fiction’.

The ever-acerbic Harlan Ellison wasted no time in tearing down ‘science fiction’ (Sci-Fi). Having categorized his writing under the heading of “surreal fantasy”-which technically falls under the heading of ‘speculative fiction’-Harlan described Sci-Fi “as an utterly meaningless categorization”. To which the grand master Dr. Asimov when pressed on the same subject, to Harlan’s exasperation, said he “loved it” (4).

Making matters more interesting (or complicated), one of my favorite writers (science fiction or otherwise) is Dan Simmons, the award-winning author of my favorite book in the genre: Hyperion (1989) and its equally monumental followup The Fall of Hyperion (1990). In an interview, he shed light on his take on the confusion surrounding the categorization of the genre. Simmons, in reference to Mary Shelley’s classic Frankenstein (1818) draws a distinction between Sci-Fi (science fiction) and SF (speculative fiction).

Adopting a critical tone, Simmons castigates Shelley’s view of science and technology: her idea of a humanoid chimeric constructed by disembodied parts scavenged from graves and mortuaries, including the non-human; which is then animated by surges of electricity as essentially “anti-logic, anti-technology – or at least pre-scientific and pre-technological in its thinking”. One that fails to work within the parameters of logic and reason of the world in which the events unfolded.

Citing (somewhat ironically) Isaac Asimov’s Three Laws of Robotics, Simmons articulates the need to work within the confines of what is real, and that writing (speculatively) about what could be, must remain grounded in the working of the world in which it takes place, adhering to the laws (and limits) of science of the day.

“The difference is, of course, that sf – which is primarily a 20th century phenomenon – must abide [..] by the scientific and rational understanding of the universe handed down by fruits of the scientific method (no matter how bitter or limiting those fruits may be)’.

Thus the story of a man-made robot turns man-killer-a narrative that is often played out in the run-of-the-mill Sci-Fi romps (Age of Ultron)-effectively operates from an anti-scientific basis. One that does not (or does not care to) place adequate emphasis on grounding the story on what is real, and what is possible, given the extant limits of technology and the safeguards humans naturally put into man-made systems.

This criticism is quite applicable to popular science fiction tales such as those set in the Star Wars universe. Where faster than light travel (to take one example) has been mastered, and people freely exploit this technology but live without the consequence of time-dilation. Added to this one when throws in quasi-mystical realities like ‘the Force’, what we are dealing with here is not science fiction but science fantasy.

Now that I mentioned the problems associated with the term ‘science fiction’ (Sci-fi), making the case for ‘Science Fiction as the Successor of Scripture’ appears to be more problematic now. However, if I take the other route and opt for the term ‘speculative fiction’ (SF), I will be faced with a categorization problem that will necessarily stretch the range of subjects (and genres) that will fall within it: Horror SF, Fantasy SF, Historical SF etc. This is a hurdle that is too great to overcome given what I have set out to do in this essay: The contrasting of science and scripture.

Thus my recourse would be to operate from Dan Simmons’s view of SF (Speculative Fiction) as an enterprise that is, or at least tries to the best of its ability to remain grounded on the real workings of science and the nature of technology of the age. However, I would delimit my scope to the ‘science’ segment of SF: speculative science fiction. To base my comparative analysis on works that are grounded, or tries to be grounded in the physics, biology, engineering, and computational advances of the day, and operate from the limits set by them, and the kind of speculations of future history that these would permit.

There is a word for this: Hard Sci-fi. Hard science fiction, as opposed to soft-science fiction (though the latter term is not generally used) features stories that are set in believable worlds with a keener focus on the technical and logical nature of the worlds and the forces at work within them. Whilst the relational, cultural, social and political dimensions are engaged at varying degrees of significance, the main concern lies with the technology and science itself, working as a key driver/foundation to the unfolding of the plot.

What Isn’t Science Fiction?

Despite having read a fair share of science/speculative fiction over the years, with works that fall into a variety of subcategories, I am not in a position to determine with certainty which books fall into what category. My take is that the divide between hard science fiction and soft science fiction is somewhat blurred, with the gray area varying in degrees among books. 

Since all science or speculative writings naturally involve speculating on futures that have not yet come to pass (at least in our timeline and in our world), the differences (at varying levels) come down to how committed (and knowledgeable) the author is towards the goal of maintaining scientific fidelity.

Arthur C. Clarke’s classic 2001: A Space Odyssey is often touted as among the top science fiction books ever, and is a common sight in discussions surrounding ‘serious science fiction’. Whilst I am not a (huge) fan of the book, the author does keep the narrative grounded on the scientific, the social and political developments of the time in which the events take place. However, like most science fiction, ‘Hard’ or otherwise, the author relies on one major inexplicable: the monolith.

In 2001 the monolith is the catalyst that sparks the emergence of higher-order thinking among our (supposed) primate ancestors, paving the way, it is presumed, to the emergence of homo sapiens (wise man). Its role in instigating other crucial events in the story, which are realized despite the monolith being an inanimate (lifeless but not powerless) force is noteworthy.

The monolith is the ‘deus ex machina’ of the book. Not a ‘God from the machine’, but a convenient plot device that appeals to inexplicable powers to overcome impossible or scientifically unanswerable realities and scenarios. The ‘desus ex machina’ acts as a driving force of the plot, and functions as the core mystery of the story (that is not revealed in the book).

The enigmatic monolith also performs the role of ‘the alien’ in the story. The concept of ‘the alien’ is something all or at least all notable science fiction books and art forms, deal with at some point in the narrative. Either by way of a literal ‘alien’ which may or may not be a monstrosity: think Xenomorph (1979) vs E.T (1982). Or, and this is another common sight in science fiction, by presenting a novel culture that is built on a different, or ‘alien’ social ordering of life.

A culture that is alien in a very literal sense. One that is starkly and principally different (or opposed) to the traditional human conception of family, society and culture. With social structures presented as starkly different from the heteronormative, marital, patriarchal, and nuclear family.

Examples here include the plant + animal symbiotic culture of the Pequeninos in Orson Scott Card’s Speaker for the Dead (1986): where the pygmy-sized aliens reproduce via pollination from ‘fathertrees’. Trees that actually started out as larvae, that eat their way out of their mothers becoming the Pequeninos, which upon reaching maturity-the select few (wise ones)-enter the transformation stage.

To the triune aliens that inhabit the parallel universe found in Isaac Asimov’s The God’s Themselves (1972). Where the union between the triad of ‘soft’ aliens (Rationals + Emotionals + Parentals) gives rise to the ‘hard’ types that become the overseers in this world where the laws of physics are different to our own.

Both Speaker for the Dead and The Gods Themselves won the Hugo and the Nebula awards for best science fiction. My take on the nature of both prestigious awards is that the Nebula Award is often given to stories that craft the most exotic and enthralling alien worlds or cultures. Whereas the Hugo award whilst engaging ‘the alien’ in a cultural sense, tends to value a combination of world-building, excitability of narrative, and coherence of the plot.

Speaking of Speaker for the Dead, whilst reading the book for the first time, it didn’t feel like reading a classic science fiction book like Asimov’s Foundation series. Rather it felt like reading a crude mix of dark fantasy, forbidden romance, and psychological horror with hints of zoophilia thrown in.

The point is (one of many) when it comes to science fiction there is a challenge in correctly classifying works as legitimate entries in the genre. So when it comes to our efforts at making the case for science fiction as the successor of scripture, it is important to exclude elements, and by extension notable works in the genre that veer off from the standard of maintaining science as an engine of the narrative.

This is a tricky one. Since the argument that I am trying to make in this essay partially rests on the similarities between science and scripture. However, at the same time arguing for the emergence of science fiction as a legitimate successor to scripture: as the new set of tales that feeds our imagination, drives our thinking, and in time fuels our ambitions and even fills us with hope for a better (and realizable) future. Whose strength lies in the paradoxical appeal that makes it similar but also different to what the Bible presents in critical ways.

At this point, it is worth engaging the key ways in which science fiction proper differs from scripture. To do that I will use a popular work in the genre, arguably the most renowned, to elucidate the necessary differences between the two. 

Dune vs Scripture

Frank Herbert’s Dune (1965) is widely considered to be the best (or the bestselling) science fiction book of all time. The success of Dune is difficult to grasp. When I first read it, sometime in 2017 I had already read through a number of top science fiction books. Notably Isaac Asimov’s Robot, Empire and Foundation series, and a number of his stand-alone works.

Thus it was with Asimov’s work that I found myself comparing Herbert’s achievement. And the result was…. Confusing. In a good way. The first point to note is that Dune is, at least at first, rather inaccessible. The book-which was first released as three separate parts-takes some time to get into and remains that way until the reader immerses himself in the narrative.

Some of the narrative strands and vocabulary the story rests upon will prove difficult for even the most patient of readers. I have encountered persons well-versed in the fantasy genre who struggle with it. And no doubt there are some, possibly many, who after a certain point simply gave up on it altogether… And yet claimed to have ‘read it’.

In my case, it was a matter of sitting down and reading it because ‘I had to’. And in a number of moments that mindset is what got me through it. As was the case when reading the Bible, certain parts of the Holy writ I had no trouble reading and rereading (Kings and Maccabees notably). Others (the dialogues in Job and the Song of Songs) proved bothersome.

When it comes to making the case for science fiction as the successor of scripture, it is natural that those who stumble upon this, provided they are knowledgeable of the genre are likely to ponder the role of the most popular science fiction book: Dune. And will expect the writer to use it as a basis for comparative analysis.

This is not to be. As I will show, Dune is not the right candidate for a comparison between scripture and science fiction, because, pardon my hubris, Dune, for me, fails as a science fiction book. As I will argue, Dune is not only non-science fiction, but at its core it is anti-science.

Why Dune is Anti-Scientific

Dune’s fame comes down to many factors. From its expansive world-building, complex plot lines effective use of political intrigue, Sandworms, the protagonist with a hero’s journey, and arguably its most standout feature: ecology.

Whilst Paul Atredies is the main character of the story, with his life following the Campbellian archetype with shades of Messianism thrown in, elements that only become more overt as the story progresses. However, the central ‘character’ of Dune is not a person but a resource: the spice Melange.

Frank Herbert’s Dune, at its core, is an ecological novel that is centered on resource management. The storyline rests on the type of human organizations the use, economic pursuit, and the political dynamics that revolve around the control of Melange give rise to. Much of ‘the action’ in the first novel of the series surrounds the complex web of relations-conflictual and cooperative-that emerges among various factions that prize it.

The centrality of Dune: the planet Arrakis. to the story is based on it being the only source of the prized spice melange in the ‘known Universe’. In Dune, it is not just the galaxy but the entire Universe that has been colonized or brought under the control of man. There is some confusion here. Probably due to the time in which the story was written and/or possibly due to the descriptive language the author chose to adopt, or maybe it was his way of giving a sense of vastness to the setting. Either way, the implication is that it makes the spice the foci of the first book and the stories that follow, and thus elevates its importance above all.

To understand how and why Dune is anti-science, one must look at key features that characterize the world in which this story takes place. The events of the first novel (Dune 1962) take place between the years 10191 and 10193. That is 10,000 years into the rule of the Corrino Empire and 10,000 years after the Battle of Corrin (Year 88), when the ‘thinking machines’ were finally wiped out in the human-machine conflict that began with The Butlerian Jihad (Year 200). Such terms, like most things in the Dune universe, are likely to confuse most readers. So let me lay out the key events of Dune in simpler terms.

  • At the start of the first novel Leto Atreides, the father of Paul Atreides, is commanded by the Padishah Emperor Shaddam IV, who heads the leading House Corrino, a long-time rival of House Atreides, to take over Arrakis, the home of the precious spice.

  • The desert planet at the time was managed by the bloodthirsty Harkonnens, who are bitter enemies of the Atredies. And during their time managing spice had brutally suppressed and exploited the Fremen, the natives of the desert world.

  • The Fremen who worship the Sandworms of Dune as proto gods believe in the coming of a Messiah who would free them from their oppressors.

  • House Atredies falls to the assault on its stronghold by the combined forces of the Harkonnen and the Emperor’s elite Sardaukar legions, leading to the death of Leto Atredies and the decimation of all his forces.

  • Paul Atredies having been driven into the desert with his pregnant mother, befriends the Fremen, learns their ways, earns their respect, partners with one of their daughters, Chani, and in time discovers his great potential as the Kwisatz Haderach: a farseeing being with superhuman abilities of the mind and will: a virtual god-man.

  • Paul Atriedies (now known as Muad’Dib) having won the loyalty of the spice-addicted Fremen (which gives them their blue eyes), aided by his newfound powers of forbearance, foresight and fortitude that are unlocked by prolonged spice exposure, launches a guerrilla war against the ruling Harkonnens: Disrupting spice production, and crippling their efforts at the control of the desert planet.

  • This draws the attention of the Padishah Emperor. His arrival on the desert world is met by a well-prepared Fremen, as his Sardaukar legions and remaining Harkonnen forces are engaged in battle. Aided by Sandworms and superior fighting abilities the Muad’Dib’s forces are victorious in the Battle of Araken. With the Sardaukar defeated and the Harkonnen leadership wiped out, Paul’s Fremen are now in control of the spice.

  • The Padishah Emperor Shaddam IV is forced to abdicate and is exiled. Paul Atredies marries his daughter Princess Irulan. And Paul Atredies thus becomes the new Emperor of the known Universe.

Question: when you read through this outline of the first book does any of this strike the reader as science-enriched? Does it? The grand master of science of fiction Arthur C. Clarke in a popular quote about the book provides some hints:

‘Dune seems to me unique among modern SF novels in the depth of its characterization and the extraordinary detail of the world it creates. I know nothing comparable to it in sf or fantasy except The Lord of the Rings’.

An argument can be made that the book’s immense popularity was driven by the rich world-building, deep character development, and emergent mysticism topped off by a powerful story of love, loss, revenge and redemption. But not the science.

Dune in other words is a great book that tells a great story. But not necessarily a great science fiction one: that is a tale that is built on real, or at least realistically achievable scientific advancements. Whilst Dune features certain Sci-fi elements like spaceships, it is woefully lacking in other key facets that make up the genre, most notably artificial intelligence.

But the differences go much deeper. As we shall see, Frank Herbert’s Dune Universe is not only lacking in the key elements that make up classical science fiction, but in many ways, it tries to, and for the most succeeds in supplanting it with mystical alternatives that hearken to a lost or bygone spiritual era.

Arthur C. Clarke’s comparison is pertinent in this regard. The elements that makeup Dune put it in the same league as works that fit better into science fantasy or even pure (high) fantasy like The Lord of the Rings. Speaking of The Lord of the Rings, that series of books written by J RR Tolkien is filled with symbolism that connects it with Christianity.

In Dune, particularly the ‘Muad’Dib’ and ‘Prophet’ parts of the book are filled with language and imagery that takes the reader out of the world of reason, logic and objectivity. The melange-induced dreams and visions and the potential they unlock in key characters at times feel like you are reading a fantasy. Notable for our discussion-on how Dune is not science fiction-is how Frank Herbert deals with the key Sf subjects: AI and robotics.

From Thinking Machines to Human Computers

In Frank Herbert’s universe machines and artificial intelligences are a glaring absence. Just the other day (1st week of April 2024) Dune, the first book in the saga was ranked No. 01 under the science fiction category on Google Play. This is understandable as Part II of Denis Villeneuve’s adaptation of the book was in theaters. But the point remains.

In Dune, the main books in the series-excluding ‘the legends’ authored by Frank Herbert’s son-machines of any kind are not a feature. To this one can add the lack of non-sentient machines that function with varying degrees of autonomy, from AI-powered computer programs and the hardware to exploit them. Critically the role of machines, and frankly of technology in general are not central to the plot, in a way that seems almost purposeful.

The order of Mentats that features significantly in the Dune universe is the human replacement for machines. Those trained in this discipline effectively carry out the tasks that were once assigned to computers and thinking machines, as sentient AIs were known. This is a startling fact from the standpoint of a book that is regarded for its ‘science fiction’ credentials. For not only are AIs (artificial and autonomous intelligences) non-existent, but even basic computers that are used for general-purpose computing are also absent.

The Mentats of Dune are human ‘computer replacements’. An order that emerged in the aftermath of The Butlerian Jihad (the long, bloody human conflict against sentient machines), with its main spiritual-intellectual law book: the Orange Catholic Bible being the foundation of this post-AI universe. The central commandment of the book reads:

‘Thou shalt not make a machine to counterfeit a human mind’

This is important. By opposing the existence of thinking machines (ai) and computers in general, the inhabitants of Dune and the ‘known Universe’ became principally opposed not only to technology as a tool with functional benefits but also to the progress that technological advances promise.

By rejecting the possibility of another AI resurgence, the people in this post-AI world have gone ahead and rejected computers, automation and robotics altogether. And with it, the foundational industries AI and computers give rise to or built upon are now lost. The slogan of societal progress that one encounters in the Dune Universe is a negative play on the carmaker Audi’s slogan:

‘Nein Vorsprung durch Technik’.

Interestingly, the replacement of technical progress attainable via advances in computation and automation with human computers exemplifies the paradoxical humanism at the heart of Frank Herbert’s universe. One that puts humanity, notably the human mind at its center. This goes against the prognostications of the present, where the hope and dreams of humanity are placed not only in the potential that machines and AI hold, but notably if and when they can harness the powers of quantum computing (5). That is the advance in AI, and the attainment of possible sentience could possibly see the replacement of humanity at the top of the food chain.

Going further, if one speaks of the controversies surrounding sex and gender in present times, notably the politics of certain activist groups to advance an ideology that de-emphasizes the biological, and by extension, the sexual and procreative in favor of a post-gender, and possibly post-sex order; here again Dune provides its paradoxical humanism by centering narrative surrounding cultural progress on heteronormative sexuality. The breeding program of the Bene Gesserit aimed towards manipulating bloodlines to shape galactic politics. A point which I shall return to.

Space Travel

Space travel is another feature of Frank Herbert’s world that highlights its anti-scientific character. A classic feature of virtually any science fiction, from the quasi-fantastical Star Wars to the more serious books that make up the ‘Master Works’ of the genre, is the mastery of space, and critically of interstellar travel.

Herbert engages the subject of space travel like every other technology in the Dune universe by appealing to the contributions of a physicist named Ibrahim Vaughn Holtzmann and his work on sub-atomic particles. Little is explained of the actual workings of this new physics which is the basis of ‘technologies’ like the glow globe (mobile lights powered by organics).

This is not a problem in itself, though the choice to ground the physics of the Dune universe on the works of a physicist whose breakthroughs have virtually no connection to the world we live is a red flag. A problem exacerbated by the non-existence of the contributions of artificial intelligence.

Interstellar travel is a subject many major SF authors have dealt with at a certain point. From a version of hyperspace jump technology employed in Asimov’s Foundation books; to the FTL (Faster than light) Hawking drive-powered ships, to the Farcaster singularities that exploit a type wormhole to provide near-instantaneous travel in the first two Hyperion books by Dan Simmons; to the use of ‘slipspace’ technology employed by the Forerunners of Greg Bear’s Halo universe: that access a subdomain of an alternate spacetime continuum that has eleven dimensions, to ‘transit’ from one location to another.

All of these technologies no matter how far-fetched and weakly grounded on existing science are nonetheless recognize the reality of their technical foundations, and the nature of their inner workings contribute in significant ways at varying degrees to the overall progression of the plot. For example, the Farcasters in Hyperion, a technology, whilst certainly beyond anything we know of in modern physics, was given to humanity by the highly advanced AIs: the TechnoCore. In the Dune universe, however, all of this is bypassed with the role of spice. 

The Spacing Guild controls space travel in the Imperium, which like the Bene Gesserit Sisterhood, rose in the aftermath of The Butlerian Jihad. The Spacing Guild consists of the Guild Navigators: beings whose physical and mental states have been altered by exposure to spice. Thanks to their secretive training and unique (mutated) physiology (which requires them to remain submerged in a vat of spice gases) they are able to control huge spaceships called Heighliners that enable interstellar travel. This is managed by ‘folding space’.

Even the language that Frank Herbert uses is verging on the mystical. And in many respects it is. This is one of the key factors underpinning the appeal of Dune. It is less about staying to true science: in terms of plot, world-building and the use of scientific language; instead it is more focused on painting a romantic picture that celebrates the downfall of science and its replacement by a new mystical order that puts humans beings: our thoughts, our beliefs, our conflicts and our dreams at the center.

Evolution of ‘Life’

The notion of progress is one of the core elements of science fiction and so it is in the Dune saga. The protagonist Paul, is the product of a long line of genetic manipulation by the Bene Gesserit: the secretive sisterhood who work behind the scenes to influence the politics of this post-technological world. Driven by a quasi-religious belief to guide the trajectory of society, which is to be attained by directing human evolution by bringing forth the ‘Kwisatz Haderach’: A virtual superhuman, who is unique (aberrant) owing to his masculine nature. Since the plan of the Bene Gesserit was to bring forth a girl.

Again we see the mystical as opposed to technological; the bio-centric as opposed to machine-centric; and the overtly-human as opposed to the post-human underpinning the narrative. These contrasts that are prevalent at various levels in science fiction are not only absent in the Dune universe, but their non-scientific replacement is posited as the new way forward.

Circling back to the central point of this essay: science fiction as the replacement of scripture, in the case of Dune, what is being posited as a ‘replacement worldview’ to the Biblical one, is not exactly the promise of science, but rather its eventual and utter demise.

The failure of the promise of science, to a point where humanity has turned its back not only on the technical advantages and the quality of life improvements that scientific progress brings, including the supportive capabilities of ‘thinking machines’; but it is a world where humanity, owing to the discovery of the spice melange has found a new way of ordering the fabric of reality. One that places humans, enhanced by the liberative powers of the spice, at the apex.

The idea of placing human life and its future evolution at the center of planetary affairs is a somewhat alien concept among the dominant scientific class in the West today. If one takes the time to listen to people like Neil Tyson and Lawrence Krauss and arguably the many who have come to embrace the view that ‘someday machines will replace us’, one encounters a certain distaste towards humanity.

This is bizarre. Considering the fact that machines, if they do attain sentience, will be the offshoot of our labours. Machines, like any other technology, emerged as a tool to solve human problems. And the value of any machine, device or even AI algorithm is determined by its utility. So the notion that machines will rise up against us and seek to replace us runs counter to the essence of what a machine is.

However, the persistence of the view that not only machines will at some point in the future surpass its makers, but that this state of affairs is somehow ‘good’ or ought to be ‘welcomed’, exemplifies the paradoxical anti-humanism that lies at the heart of modern science. A view that is opposed by the religious that affirms human exceptionalism. One that is interestingly affirmed in Frank Herbert’s Dune.

The idea that human life is special and that social progress is best attained via the evolvability of the human species is core to the beliefs of the Bene Gesserit. The culmination of their plan for humanity is to facilitate the emergence of the ‘Kwisatz Haderach’: a human creature that is imbued with powers that are almost god-like.

This is interesting because it runs counter to the view that the advent of, to borrow Herbert’s phrase ‘thinking machines’ would pave the way for the emergence of a machine-created god or ‘Deus ex Machina’. The idea of bringing forth God from the machine has been an integral narrative underpinning much of science fiction. That humans who have worshiped an unseen God would give rise to creations that were meant to exist in the service of humanity, would someday rebel against their makers (us), and then go forth and create their own God!

The idea that even the gods must be overthrown is a feature of great Sf. From Lester del Rey’s Evensong, to Dan Simmons’s The Fall of Hyperion: the idea that the created must rise up against its makers and in time through conflict eventually replace them is at the heart of speculative writings that prognosticate on future history. A narrative that is essentially a replay of the Olympian myth: of the gods led by Zeus overthrowing the Titans that came before them.

Dune, unique among SF novels takes a different approach. The future ‘gods’, sentient AIs have been defeated and almost all traces of their power, presence and use have been scraped from society, bearing certain technological holdouts such as the IX. The history of the planet IX is pertinent in this regard. Without delving too much into the ‘Legends of Dune’ era, IX was the epicenter of the emergence of the first machine revolt against the human leadership of the time, known as the Titans.

The Titans were humans who had replaced the leadership of the decadent Old Empire. They, in contrast to the humans of the Imperium, took to scientific advancement with a religious zeal. Including the embrace of biological augmentation, which eventually led to the combining of their bodies with machines leading to the emergence of the human + machine hybrids called Cymeks. However, this arrangement didn’t last long. The increasing autonomy granted to the now sentient AIs eventually (or naturally) led to their revolt.

The rise of the machines led by their leader: a collection of artificial intelligence entities called Omnius, in turn would establish a machine-controlled hegemony: the Synchronized Empire, that would last until the end of The Butlerian Jihad.

The rise of the AIs as powerful entities that could one day challenge human power, and potentially supplant it, is a fear among certain segments of society. Notably among those who don’t have more pressing and immediate concerns. This (dystopian) vision of the future, is partly extrapolated from the testable disparities between humans and machines. Notably, the superior capabilities AI showcases when it comes to activities that human beings traditionally struggle with: such as performing complex calculations, crunching and drawing insights from large data sets, and learning new languages in quick time.

The future ‘AI supremacy’ is predicated on the consistent improvement of technologies that underpin them: machine learning, neural networks, growing sophistication of generative pre-trained transformers (GPT), and later, most critically, advances in robotics that are able to exploit these capabilities and act with a growing level of agency. With newer possibilities opened up through breakthroughs in quantum computing.

However, one of the hurdles that stays the advance in AI and the possible ‘Rise of the Machines’ is the gap between the advances in the algorithms that power AI systems to the inherent limitations in machines that can perform human-like tasks in the physical world. Weaknesses that are born of engineering and design limits.

The limitations of robotics (powered by AI at varying degrees) and machines in general in relation to human capabilities is understood by Moravec’s Paradox. Propounded by the Austrian computer scientist Hans Moravec, it highlights the reality where machines prove to be superior in areas where human cognition is needed, however, struggle in areas like locomotion, spatial understanding, and vocalization of thoughts; skills that humans, even toddlers excel at (6). Overcoming these limitations is one of the goals of the scientific establishment that is involved in these pursuits. As the futurist Martin Ford writes in his bestseller: The Rise of Robots:

“The quest to build a genuinely intelligent system-a machine that can conceive new ideas, demonstrate an awareness of its own existence, and carry on coherent conversations-remains the Holy Grail of artificial intelligence” (7).

So there is a way to go before AI-powered systems are able to carry out tasks with human-level dexterity, agility, and precision, and an even longer distance before sentience is attained. But once this point is reached, the chances that humanity will be viewed as an inferior organism that must be controlled, contained or possibly disposed of rises with it.

The fascination over a future machine/AI-led social order lies, paradoxically in humanity’s ability to overcome these technological limitations that underpin the power of machines. Paving the way for such a superior intelligence of the future to emerge.

Returning to Dan Simmon’s The Fall of Hyperion where the AIs reach the conclusion that humanity’s extinction was necessary not only from the standpoint of the survival of machine civilization but also in paving the way for the next step in the AIs own evolutionary path: the Ultimate Intelligence. A form of social Darwinism that plays out at a galactic scale, where humanity is deemed to have outlived its purpose and must be eradicated for the new power to emerge.

The Dune saga interestingly, with respect to the question of life and its evolution, reestablishes human primacy. As the author recenters the grand narratives on the progress of life with a diachronic shift that places humans at the center. And the evolution of life is no longer dependent on machines and their present or future capabilities; the current or future relationship between man and machines, or technology in general.

Instead progress lies in discovering, awakening, and nurturing the inner deity that lies dormant within us. With the concrete manifestation of the divine is made manifest in human powers of perception, cognition, reason, self-control and creativity. A power that attains godhood by discovering/reaching the immanence that is to be realized in the future god-man: The God Emperor of Dune.

What Makes Scripture Anti-Science

If one listens to Christian pastors, preachers, clerics the emphasis on prayer is a recurring theme. This is natural and perfectly understandable. Prayer is central to Christian life and indeed for all religious traditions that affirm a higher power. In many ways, one of the concrete ways in which faith in God is affirmed is through the act of praying.

The ‘call to prayer’: which can either involve the pastor urging his/her followers to take the time to pray, or to start a short recital with the listeners encouraged to do the same. All of this is built on one thing: that praying to God will produce a desired outcome. A belief that is based on the historical accounts of the great many deeds God and the second member of the Trinity performed on behalf of the faithful.

The miracles of Christ: from feeding the hungry, healing the sick, and bringing the dead to life are cited as examples of God’s power made manifest in this world. Owing to the fact that divine power has manifested in the past, it will, through faith, manifest now. What is needed is prayer and the genuine/justifiable nature of the request.

For example, if someone is sick, it is right and just to ask God to aid that person and those around him/her, to help deal with the problem. The same thing can be said for those who are in financial strife, in which case the request for divine aid through prayer appears justified.

Or is it?

When one looks at the world as it is today against the world of 1st century Judea or even the pre-exile one of Judah and Israel, what strikes us is the markedly different social orders of both times. The Biblical world is first of all a pre-scientific one. One in which miracles and other fantastical occurrences were common place. When God commanded Moses to throw down his staff so that it would turn into a snake, this feat was matched by the Pharaoh’s sorcerers who manged to effect the same outcome.

The secular narrative on the emergence and progress of science posits advancements made in the field as a reaction against extant dogmas and doctrines that curtailed the quest for knowledge and insights that resulted from studying the natural world. The notion that there was a ‘scientific revolution’ in the 16th – 17th century; that the enterprise to study the natural world and physical systems took place as a revolt against established powers of the time. Notably the Church and organized religion in general. This view is opposed by the increasingly plausible position that modern science (in the West) emerged out of the moral and intellectual foundations that were laid down by Christianity.

That the modern scientific method emerged from the socio-cultural matrix of the Christian West that upheld reason; the rational character of the natural world, which was the product of Design as opposed to chance and chaos; and the fact that many of the great luminaries of first scientific age were practicing Christians or theists at best, runs counter to the view that science and religion were in conflict.

However, the question remains, what of the spiritual? What does one make of, or is supposed to make of the mystical and fantastical; the technical impossibilities that were a common occurrence in the Old and New Testaments that constitute scripture? The most notable being the central event of all Christianity, the Resurrection.

Much of the debate surrounding the mystical character of the faith tends to focus on the great events or moments that make up the faith. The Resurrection as noted, along with the Ascension. Arguably of greater significance is the birth of Jesus Christ: who is the result of the union between God and humanity. Where a mortal woman conceives the Son of God through the power of the Holy Spirit, opening the door for the second member of the Trinity to enter the realm of man.

What does not get adequate attention in the spiritual history of the faith, paradoxically, are the lesser examples of the supernatural. Specifically, the many miracles that God performed directly in the Old Testament, and in the New Testament through the Lord Jesus Christ. Whilst the mystical and evangelical significance of miracles: from the ten plagues of Egypt, the parting of the Red Sea, to mana and quails to the many miracles of Christ during his ministry are recognized for their power and significance, what is often overlooked is their mechanics and what these miraculous events of the past mean for us today.

The mechanics of miracle-working is a subject I have dealt with in my essay: The Problem with Believing in Jesus Christ. In the next section, I will engage what is problematic about the enduring effects of the meta-narrative that the miraculous worlds of Old and New Covenant continue to hold on a world that is increasingly driven by logic, reason and empiricism.

Physician Heal Thy Self

Early into 2024, I was engaged in recurring conversation sessions online with a Christian family friend. He is, from what I could gather, a strong believer. A person who took the teachings of Christ and the promises of scripture quite seriously if not literally.

It almost seemed like he was a person who believed in the literal word of God as it is presented in Scripture: specifically the New Testament, and notably the four gospels. A man who believed that the word of God, if believed fully, carried with it the power to heal, potentially every ailment and injury, mental or physical.

This is a belief that is not without merit, as it stems from the biblical narrative that showcases the redeeming power of Christ, who overcomes the single greatest obstacle to life, death. Which is technically a miracle.

It was interesting listening to him speak on the subject of God’s power and its ability to heal, cure and transform anyone or any situation no matter how broken, crippled or screwed up. As a skeptic of not exactly God’s power to heal per se, but of the growing impacts made by technical advances in medicine and healthcare; powered by advances in biotechnology, pharmacology, aetiology and the countless other sub-disciplines that are involved in making human life more livable; on the relevance or reality of the mystical.

Advances that have logically led to the marginalization of miracles and other mystical or supernatural ways of dealing with real health problems. Whilst I never pressed him on this subject, I got the impression that he was a person who didn’t place much faith in the power of medicine, and presumably in the liberating powers that technological progress has in store for humanity.

This mindset was evinced by his reference to a healing (miracle) of a stutter or a speech defect that he had for a long time, by the grace of the divine. At no point did I challenge him on this claim. As a believer, I too affirm God’s power to do the impossible, notably to heal those with a variety of ailments. However, what made the case of this particular individual more interesting was that he was a long-time sufferer of poliomyelitis. A disease caused by a virus that affects the nerves, notably the spinal cord causing varying levels of paralysis.

In our conversations whenever I raised questions on the reality of divine power today: that is its perceptibility and reliability; he routinely alludes to the healing he experienced that removed his stuttering speech. But, he also, in fairness, admitted to the fact that he hasn’t yet been cured of his (medically more serious) physical disability.

What I am getting here is not whether divine power as an operative force in the world is real. As a person of faith, I believe that God’s power is present: from the manifestation of miracles but also as the sustainer of the cosmos. The problem I, like many in modernity, have with God as a healer-that is his role as an intervening force-is the reliability of divine power in producing or bringing forth positive outcomes consistently.

Concerning my family friend who was healed of his stuttering speech but is still suffering from another serious health defect, this state of affairs for me and from the standpoint of the medical community is not a reason to cheer. It raises questions on the nature of God with respect to his disposition to heal certain illnesses but not others; or on his propensity to heal certain people of their maladies, such as a speech defect, but not being willing to do so in others with the same, or similar illness.

Now when you go back to the time of Christ, the nature of his ministry was twofold. One: to preach the Good News about the Kingdom of God, and two: to be the living manifestation of God’s Kingdom on Earth. The 4th chapter of Luke attests to the power of Christ as a cleansing, healing, and rejuvenating force making the reality of the Kingdom, at least glimpses of it: the joys, the fulfilled promises, and the satisfaction of living a healthy life, accessible in the here and now.

The problem is that this representation of God’s Kingdom, one of healing, nourishing, and spiritually (and mentally) empowering the faithful, one that showcases concretely the divine energy manifesting in the real world, is no longer visible. Of the followers of Christ, from the Pope to the Christian monarchs of Europe, from the American Pastors to the lay faithful in developing nations, not a single one of them can manifest the divine power that was made manifest in the person of Christ.

Whilst claims of healing and showers blessing from various Christian ministries around the world, particularly among the evangelical sects are in no short supply; the real hurdle lies in the lack of recognition of such healing and miracle-working by the medical and scientific communities of the world. This has not happened.

Whilst the conspiracy theorist in you might say that this is because the medical and scientific establishment is in no mood to entertain competition, the real reason is that the miracles that take place within religious circles are not widespread enough to brook serious attention.

However, this does not mean that miracles do not happen. This does not mean that God’s power (outside his main role in ordering and sustaining the universe) does not manifest in unknown, indiscernible, incomprehensible ways. The issue at hand is whether God’s power is accessible, reliable, and ultimately systematize-able, in a way that is problem-solving in its character.

Returning to this family friend with paralysis, his belief that God had not (yet) cured him of his ordeal ought to work against his faith. It works into the classic argument against God: if God is all-powerful and all-loving why he does permit such evils to afflict his beloved creation?

At this point, there is no serious rebuttal to this criticism. But an argument can be made that belief in God’s power to heal can possibly work against man’s capacity to find workable treatments and potential cures that could potentially alleviate his health conditions.

Take stem cell treatments for example. A growing subset that is part of the emerging field of regenerative medicine. It holds great promise for those suffering from a host of intractable health problems. From serious ailments like motor neurone disease, Alzheimer’s and many others. Stem cell therapy has even been shown to counter the degenerative effects of aging.

In India, a man who was afflicted with poliomyelitis and lost his ability to walk at the age of three, through a combination of corrective surgery, physiotherapy, diet and cellular therapy started noticing improvement in balance and locomotion. The doctor involved in the treatment noted the efficacy of this treatment lies in its ability to address the root causes of the illness (8).

Now the issue with this family friend with a serious health problem, who is waiting on the Lord to heal him, the question is: how does he square the power of medicine and related fields to provide a real solution with that of his faith?

Speaking of his beliefs, as noted, he is not a person who looks at the advances in medicine, and the power of science with much hope. He once mentioned his fascination with the lifestyle that characterized the early Church in the decades following the Ascension of Christ. Where property ownership was non-existent, people led wandering, missionary lives devoid of wealth, material comforts and the leisurely indulgence. A time when the spirit, as a force that can heal and empower, was in no short supply.

At one point he even stated that if we (as a society) went back to living the way the early Church did, as mentioned in Acts, things will be better.

‘All the believers were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of their possessions was their own, but they shared everything they had. With great power, the apostles continued to testify to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus. And God’s grace was so powerfully at work in them all that there were no needy persons among them. For from time to time those who owned land or houses sold them, brought the money from the sales and put it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to anyone who had need’ (Acts 4: 32 – 35).

Better, in the sense that the power of the Holy Spirit will be reified, with its healing, nourishing and evangelical potential made manifest concretely in the lives of the faithful. A view I found interesting and problematic.

It is ‘interesting’ in the sense that as a thought experiment it is worth pondering the idea of what could be… That if the human collective chooses to turn its back on millennia of social and technological progress and revert back to a pre-scientific, pre-industrial and pre-capitalist world. And that doing so will bring back the power of the spirit that was coursing through the veins of the leadership of the early Church. Could be, but it is not a given.

On the problematic side, we are faced with the question of what about everything else!? Can humanity somehow reach the conclusion that everything it as a species has achieved and attained in all fields of study and application: arts, culture, science, politics, economics and yes even religion are of no use, and simply revert back to a crude nomadic way of living. With total collectivism and no private property, or, and this is the important part, individual identity. Human identity as self-invented and oriented towards material fulfillment, sensual satisfaction and social upliftment be rejected altogether. Is this feasible?

So if society is to revert back to such a spiritual utopia, what happens to not just what humanity as a species has achieved in its history, but the inner drive, that yearning for better, prettier, grander, healthier things and surroundings? What does one do with man’s quest for greatness? The restless spirit that hungers for novelty, beauty, and victory over the unknown and oneself, and the power to shape the world to suit his designs?

How does one contend with the in-built want to seek out the unknown and subdue it? The wish to make one’s mark on the world in the limited time that has been given? How does one live with the spirit that burns within us, one that made our ancestors:

‘Hunters for gold or pursuers of fame, they all had gone out on that stream, bearing the sword, and often the torch, messengers of the might within the land, bearers of a spark from the sacred fire. What greatness had not floated on the ebb of that river into the mystery of an unknown earth! … The dreams of men, the seed of commonwealths, the germs of empires’ (9).

The answer-according this family friend’s reading of scripture and human density is that you don’t. Since the human heart is evil, the desires that stem from it are the products of a Fallen creature, and man’s mission to steward God’s creation on his behalf is lost following the events in Eden; so what is left for humanity now is to revert to ways of the missionary Church, at least that is the ideal one must affirm, whilst doing what he/she can to make do (survive) in this Fallen world.

This view, which despite its alienness, is in fact at the heart of a purist reading of scripture, and versions of it are lived out in various ways by the faithful in Christian communities across the world. And with good reason. For at various points in Jesus’s ministry, he reprimands the promise of riches and what it (being wealthy) entails. From the story of the rich young man to the blunt castigation of the rich, the joyful and the respected found in Luke’s version of the beatitudes:

‘But woe to you who are rich,
for you have already received your comfort.
Woe to you who are well-fed now,
for you will go hungry.
Woe to you who laugh now,
for you will mourn and weep.
Woe to you when everyone speaks well of you,
for that is how their ancestors treated the false prophets’ (Luke 6: 24 – 26).

One of the main problems with a literal reading of scripture is that it is very difficult to counter it, since the words are spoken by the Lord himself. But I digress.

Returning to the case of the sick family friend, his condition whilst intractable with respect to conventional medical practices, is not incurable. Provided one has the means and the will to take the right course of action. It must be noted that the person in question is not a rich man. Far from it. In fact he is a person who affirms the teaching of the dangers of riches completely. And seems to shy away from money (i.e. not work as hard), let alone be committed to the pursuit of great wealth.

This results in the necessary problem that he, unlike the wealthy, is not in a position to access the kind of healthcare that can treat an illness like his; with novel, cutting-edge solutions. Since he rejects ‘the dangers of wealth’ for a variety of reasons, he also stands to lose out on the material, physical and social benefits it portends.

His disability naturally has an adverse effect on his ability to make a better living, but since he is not committed to making a good living in the first place (i.e. to become rich and fall into temptation), he remains stuck in a physical and paradoxically, spiritual, rut. He is unable to address his problem materialistically owing to the resources he lacks, and he does not benefit from the miraculous cure that can only (according to his reading) come about if society reverts back to a time when such miraculous healings were commonplace. In other words, our faithful family friend is in an impossible situation.

Whilst the counter-argument is that God does perform miracles, falls apart when one admits the non-systematizable nature of the blessing. That if God is able to heal one person of such an aliment, he must, owing to his omniscience, omnipotence and limitless love be able to do so universally. However, since this is not the case, it nullifies the efficacy and hence the believability and critically, the reliability of such healings. This is a key reason why the medical and scientific communities have not warmed to the reality of miracles.

Unfortunately, many Christians today who profess faith in the power of God, who believe that worship and good deeds can bring forth positive outcomes, are left in this cognitive limbo, where one is compelled to believe in the infinite nature of God’s love, but at the same time is left pondering the harsh, bitter realities of life, that runs counter to such a view. This is why the promise of scientific advancements and underpinning it, the enduring appeal of logical positivism (despite its many shortfalls) continues to hold sway over the modern (Western) mind.

A key feature of positivistic thinking is the premium placed on observations and the imperative to verify statements, hypotheses, and claims made about reality. The trouble with miracles and other events attributed to the supernatural is that humans do not possess the means to verify them. Whilst claims about miraculous healings may seem adequate for the minds of a given congregation or group, it does not stand up to serious intellectual scrutiny, for one does not know or cannot know, how, in what way, and when exactly, and under what circumstances such a miracle took place. Without knowledge of these exact variables, those conditions cannot be duplicated to reproduce the same beneficent outcome consistently.

Since a key feature governing human life is predictability; the unpredictability, and in essence the characteristic unreliability of miraculous events, as a way of solving human problems at the level of the collective, as opposed to, as it is usually understood, as being a catalysts that paves the path to an individual’s moral conversion, has led to the rejection of such occurrences and of the power of God in general.

So what takes the place of miracles in the modern world? What is the replacement for, not God per se, but the alternative for the power of God, for solving human problems like curing leprosy? Thanks to the advances in modern medicine, this particular aliment is dealt with via multi-drug therapy consisting of antibiotics. The treatment is reliable, accessible, and provides proven results that are repeatable. With miracles, and by extension ‘God’, the reliability factor is in question.

The human or humanistic response to problems that afflict humanity is to direct the gaze towards the powers and potential of the human mind + human action. The principally incomprehensible nature of God’s power is now ordered within the remits of human reason, foresight, will, and determination, building on human ambition and aspiration. Essentially we have replaced the purely transcendental God of scripture with the limitless potential of the emerging godhood of the homo sapien, the awakening god-man.

Paradise Regained

John Milton’s epic poem Paradise Lost (1667) documents the Fall of Man from his prestigious god-like position (minus the ignorance of his nakedness) at the apex of God’s creation, to the lowly mortal that will one day become one with the dust of the Earth.

Paradise Lost is truly an epic work. Following Satan’s rebellion against God, the conspiracy of the devil with his demons to tempt mankind, the origin of death, and the culmination of the plot that leads to the banishment of Adam and Eve from Eden. The tragedy ends with the consolation that a future Messiah will be born in their line, one who will unmake the events of the Fall, bridge the divide between man and his Maker and ushering a new age of peace.

One need not read Milton’s epic to know these events. However, Milton does provide a lot of context, and structure as he fleshes out the events surrounding the Fall. Events such as Satan’s plot to deceive and destroy mankind, and other events that took place ‘behind the scenes’ lends power to the Biblical story.

John Milton’s less-known follow-up to this epic: Paradise Regained (1671) once again follows the Biblical story. This time centered on the life of our Redeemer, Jesus Christ.

It is interesting, for when I first learned of the second epic, its title struck a different note. The idea of regaining paradise to my mind implied the literal restoration of Eden. The beautiful garden paradise where (almost) everything was perfect. That it would be some kind of reversal of events. The unmaking of the great mistake, and the return of humanity to the garden’s joyous whole.

John Milton’s Paradise Regained is not about that. At least not exactly.

This epic poem centers on the life of Christ. Focusing critically on the temptations that Christ faced and how he, unlike the ‘first man’, succeeds. The use of this narrative device is understandable. Since the main moral failing of the forefathers took place in the face of temptation. So Christ in overcoming the various tests of the devil, is able to move forward and fulfill his mission to the world. Through his glorious death and Resurrection and Ascension, he rises to a new plane of existence. The Messiah who will return to right all wrongs and make all things new lifts humanity with him.

The use of this central narrative strand of the New Covenant that is centered on the Redemptive mission of Jesus Christ is justified, as temptation is one of the main stumbling blocks the faithful are confronted with. From the temptation of Adam and Eve in Eden; the temptation of David who gives into his desire for the married Bathsheba; the failure of King Saul, who gives into greed, tempted by the spoils of war, and failing to completely destroy the Amalekites (including their livestock); to the unfaithfulness of King Solomon, who is seduced and led astray by his many wives and concubines into worshiping the pagan gods of the lands they came from.

Christ as the vessel of the Holy Spirit, however, overcame all challenges that were thrown at him. The temptation that manifested in a concrete form in the shape of the devil ‘the tempter’, is overcome at the culmination of his forty days and nights in the wilderness.

So the challenge which Adam monumentally failed with its lasting consequences, the most notable being the loss of the Earthly Paradise, is amended through Christ. Who acts as the union between man and God. And by doing so lays the foundations for a new paradise:

Supplanted Adam, and by vanquishing
Temptation, hast regain’d lost Paradise,
And frustrated the conquest fraudulent:
He never more henceforth will dare set foot

In Paradise to tempt; his snares are broke:
For though that seat of earthly bliss be fail’d,
A fairer Paradise is founded now
For Adam and his chosen Sons, whom thou
A Savior art come down to re-install
Where they shall dwell secure, when time shall be (10).

With science fiction as the successor of scripture, what we are faced with is man’s attempt to regain that lost paradise in very literal terms minus the redemptive role of Christ. What the modern man is seeking to rebuild or ‘regain’ is the Eden of everlasting joy where life flourishes through a new world that he hopes to build. One that is characterized by radical abundance, infinite resources, and spellbinding technologies. A world greatly free of the effects of death and decay. A world that is in a way a paradise on Earth. A utopia. A world where the grace of God manifests in the reality and beauty of life. A world where goodness is ever present. A glimpse into such a Redeemed Creation is presented in Isaiah:

The wolf will live with the lamb,
the leopard will lie down with the goat,
the calf and the lion and the yearling together;
and a little child will lead them.
The cow will feed with the bear,
their young will lie down together,
and the lion will eat straw like the ox.
The infant will play near the cobra’s den,
and the young child will put its hand into the viper’s nest.
They will neither harm nor destroy
on all my holy mountain,
for the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the Lord
as the waters cover the sea (Isaiah 11: 6 – 9).

Besides being bad news for meat lovers (including yours truly), the world that is sketched out in this prophetic book carries every semblance of a paradise. A world where there is no conflict not only among men but also between man and beast and among the beasts themselves. A paradise of peace, love and joy.

This new Kingdom of righteousness is realized by the coming of the Son of Man. Or at least it will be at some unknown point in the future. Or, according to certain readings of the Messianic age, the unfolding of the new age of heavenly/earthly bliss has already been set in motion by the coming of the Lord. The Kingdom of Heaven in the present era is going through its birth pangs until its full realization in the future. This ‘emergent’ view of the kingdom of heaven (and the metaphysics it opens up) goes back to the words of our Lord himself:

‘The kingdom of God does not come with observation; nor will they say, ‘See here!’ or ‘See there!’ For indeed, the kingdom of God is within you’ (Luke 17: 20 – 21).

Critically, from our standpoint, and from the perspective of the post-Christian era that the West has been slowly, but inexorably moving towards, this regained paradise-its emergence-that was (paradoxically) set in motion by the coming of the Messiah cannot come fast enough. The idea (or ideal) of heaven as a self-realized and socially accomplished, practically attainable goal of human history has been the driving force impelling the dreams of men, going back, arguably since the start of the European Renaissance at some point during the 14th century.

A view that was reinforced by the forces that shaped the history of humanity that viewed human upliftment as a real, worthy, and attainable outcome in the here and now. From Marxist materialistic reading of the progress of history that provided the intellectual groundwork for such an Earthly and politically realizable notion of a future utopia; to the totalitarian but deeply utopian agendas of National Socialist and Communist dictatorships of the 20th century. However screwed up these ideologies and their political manifestation were, they were oriented towards making the world a better a place. At least for a certain ‘oppressed’ or ‘privileged’ group.

Casting our gaze towards the American project, one that was built on the ‘self-evident’ belief:

‘That all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. That to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed… We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America’ (11).

As the reader can see, the social, cultural, political, and underlying it, the economic evolution of society has progressively seen the marginalization of the view of a heavenly paradise. The Redeemed creation headed by the Son of God, whether it is in the world to come, or if it is to emerge progressively through history (via the working of the Church) is increasingly sidelined by a conception of human progress that is instead built on political action, economic growth, technical breakthroughs and the quasi-doctrinal belief in the promises of ‘science’.

As a thought experiment, consider whose opinions on any subject people in developed societies are more likely to take seriously, let alone value and respect: the cleric or the scientist? The priest or physicist? The exorcist or the psychiatrist? It has got to a point now in the Western world, where being a ‘scientist’ (and to be recognized as such) comes with an air of authority that commands the respect of the wider polity. The same cannot be said of the religious.

Case in point are the gurus and self-help coaches in the personal and professional development field, who have degrees in neuroscience, and hence proceed to call themselves neuroscientists. The same is true in biology, where evolutionary scientists dominate the narrative on questions concerning the nature, origin and progress of life.

The main takeaway is that the religious and by extension the mystical has been replaced by the logical, the rational and empirical in the increasingly materialistic West. Not only when it comes to the key questions that pertain to the relevant areas of expertise (the age of the universe, the center of the solar system and galaxy, the development of life, the vastness and nature of the cosmos etc.) But also in the development of the broader narrative that shapes the views and in time the worldviews of men and women who live in a world where the presence, role and power of those who claim scripture (or other Holy text) as authority is greatly diminished.

The question now is, what kind of a world are we looking at in the future? ‘The future’ which is science fiction’s perennial concern; now that we have moved on or turned our backs on the meta-narratives and prognostications about the future history that a scriptural understanding of the world provides? To answer this question I will engage key plot points found in major science fiction, that correlate or at least in some respects connect with key biblical themes that form the core of the Christian faith.

The Resurrection

The foundational claim of the Christian faith is the Resurrection of Christ. Christ rising from the dead is the foundation stone upon which rests all other claims and teachings of Christianity. Indeed, it is the event which makes Christianity a religion: a belief system that is centered on a divine (transcendental) power, as opposed to it being a mere philosophy.

As St. Paul states:

‘And if Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith. More than that, we are then found to be false witnesses about God, for we have testified about God that he raised Christ from the dead. But he did not raise him if in fact the dead are not raised. For if the dead are not raised, then Christ has not been raised either. And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins’ (1 Corinthians 15: 14 – 17).

Returning from the dead is a thought that is comforting and discomforting at the same time. When someone is dead the fact that they stay dead is a truism that forms the basis of human life. When a Dr. fights to save a life, the impetus for doing so lies in the knowledge of the irreversibility of death. The terrifying finality that lies in the reality of dying is what drives the living to do everything possible to stay its inevitability. The inevitability of death is the fundamental truth of life and becomes the driver that impels the living to fight for the advance of life.

The central Christian claim that Christ is God or the Son of God finds its validation in Christ’s victory over the greatest evil/obstacle/reality of life: death. Christ’s Resurrection and the promise of eternal life for the body and the soul powers the hope that lies at the heart of the Christian claim. The faithful by believing in the goodness of God and choosing to live as Christ called them, by exercising the golden rule, stand to receive the reward of life everlasting.

The problem, however, is the reward for life-everlasting presupposes death. So the reality and the undesirability of death remains. Whilst it is often missed by students of the faith, death is the greatest evil that divides man from God. God when he created a perfect world there was no death in it. Death came into this world through Sin. The catalyst is Satan. However, for the power of death to manifest, it required man’s participation in its nefarious plan. Through disobedience to God’s will, man becomes a co-architect in his own demise.

And so begins the rescue operation set in motion by God to Redeem not just humanity but the whole of Creation through the coming of Christ. God’s plan to save humanity through Jesus Christ who would be borne as a human imbued with the power of the divine as God incarnate, is paradoxically a negative one. In order for God to ‘save’ us, that is to attain Salvation, we would still have to die.

Returning to the Fall, when God banishes Adam and Eve from Eden he communicates his unease with the idea of men living forever by eating from the Tree of Life. Now that humans have acquired the power to differentiate between good and evil, immortality must be forgone. In other words, whilst the consequence of Sin is death, it appears that the consequence of knowledge is also death. This means, at a certain metaphysical level to possess knowledge is viewed as a necessary pathway towards evil.

So into this complex web of affairs that transcends space and time enters Jesus Christ bearing the Good News. The ‘Good News’ is captured in John 3, in Jesus’s own words:

‘For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him’ (John 3: 16 – 17).

So far so good. God’s plan to save humanity through Christ by sending him into this world to be a living example, a testament to his love, a guide who would lead the flock along the right path so that they, upon finishing their time here on Earth have the chance to enter a space of eternal joy. A new Eden. However, there is a problem. Two in fact. First, this promised reward comes with a condition. Only those who believe in the Son of Man stand to receive this heavenly reward:

‘Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because they have not believed in the name of God’s one and only Son’ (John 3: 18).

In other words, God’s love for humanity, is, at least as far as one’s worthiness for attaining eternal life is concerned, is conditional. Which at one level seems to contradict, at least for the skeptical mind, the universal and limitless character of God’s love. For the argument must be made, couldn’t God figured out a better way to save us? One that comes with fewer rules and conditions?

Next, there is the problem of death itself. If ‘the wages of sin is death’, and death, by all means, is the most unpleasant condition. At least in relation to everlasting torture, for that would be hell-then death by all means must be avoided. But not only death but everything that reminds us, takes us closer to, and provides a glimpse into what death is: sickness, old age, pain and suffering. All of this must be opposed, its effects limited, the causes neutralized or negated, or its onset stayed.

What this means is that the ‘Good News’ of Jesus Christ is ultimately, according to a certain reading, not good news at all. At least not in the way good news as a concept is perceived by the human mind. For example, if someone were to catch you on a bad day when everything seems to be going against you, and say:

‘Hey I got some good news for you’. And you say ‘Really, what is it?’. And the bringer of the said ‘good news’ says: ‘Someday all your problems will cease… Because someday you are gonna die. But take heart, for what awaits once you pass over is the eternal reward in heaven’.

I guess I need not elaborate on the mental state of the person having a bad day, having to be on the receiving end of this news. Leaving aside the questions associated with who is worthy of heaven (i.e. those whose names are written on the book of life (Revelations 20: 15 and 17: 8). The real problem is the adequacy of this message in terms of its hopefulness and its power to stimulate the mind to look at life anew with joy and expectation.

Contrary to what one may (or has been conditioned) to think, the promise of heaven isn’t really good news. For entry into heaven presupposes death. And death is the real enemy of life and hence humanity. This means the real adversary that humanity must confront, counter and overcome, even if this goal is never attained, is death. With this thought in mind, let us renter the world of science fiction.

The Science (Fiction) of Overcoming Death – Hyperion Cantos (1989 – 1998)

Hyperion (1989) by Dan Simmons is my favorite science fiction book. The book introduces the reader to the Hegemony of man: the human political power spread across a spiral arm of our galaxy, who share it with the warlike, genetically modified trans-human Ousters, the secretive but powerful AI TechnoCore, the god-machine nightmare that is Shrike and much, much more.

So much could be said, even as an introduction regarding the beautiful, emotive and horrifyingly captivating world of Hyperion that it will require a dedicated write-up. This is what I have done in my essay On the Greatest Science Fiction Ever.

In this section, I will focus on a key subset of the Hyperion books: physical resurrection. A subject that is introduced in the first book, but is later developed in the final two books that make up the tetrad. Without spoiling too many things, in the far future history humanity, following the destruction of the Farcaster network-that provided instantaneous travels between two points via portals, by exploiting a type of wormhole singularity-at the end of the second book: The Fall of Hyperion, have resorted to a new form of faster-than-light travel.

Enabled by ‘Gideon drive’ equipped ‘Archangel class’ ships, that can travel at extreme velocities. However, due to the immense strain and pressure exerted by the process the occupants of these spaceships are invariably killed. As in smashed to a pulp.

However, death is not the end in this far-future society where the Catholic Church has reasserted control over the human-occupied regions of the Milky Way galaxy. Humans traveling in Gideon drive-equipped space ships are effectively brought back to life in the ‘resurrection creche’ provided the occupant carries the cruciform.

The cruciform was the central plot device in the first story of Hyperion: The Priest’s Tale. The then prototype version of the cruciform found in the first book enabled those wearing (infected by) it, to be reborn. Reborn in a literal sense. In that, the cruciform, also known as the resurrection parasite, can raise the dead wearer/infected to life.

Not a perfect life as it turns out. For in the early versions of the cruciform worn by the Bikura tribe, the reader encounters in The Priest’s Tale, the dead were returned with severe mental and physical abnormalities. Notably retardation and sterility. However, by the time the Endymion saga begins centuries after the fall of the Hegemony, the new interstellar power, the Catholic Church led by the Pax: its political and military arm, via a pact with resurgent AI TechnoCore, is able to provide a literal path to being born again. To be born again of the flesh!

Via the technology of a now (seemingly) perfected cruciform, the Catholic Church of the future is able to provide literal immortality to those who accept the faith. These ‘born again’ Christians, are able to pass from death to life, here on this Earth through the ‘Sacrament of Resurrection’, where the cruciform is able to return a man’s (or woman’s) “destroyed and compressed body, his decaying neurons and scattered brain mass, to the human form…” (12).

The Sacrament of Resurrection is used to bring dead converts to life and is also ‘given’ in cases where the crew of the Archangel-class ships don’t have services of the resurrection creche; for the creche can carry out the revival of the dead automatically. As one of the priests of the Church explains the nature of cruciform and the faith it embodies:

‘One mere lifetime of commitment to Our Lord is not slavery,’ he said, his stutter banished by cold anger. ‘Millions have offered this before the tangible blessing of immediate resurrection in this life was offered. Billions gratefully accept it now.’ He stood up. ‘You have the choice, my son. Eternal light, with the gift of almost unlimited life in this world in which to serve Christ, or eternal darkness(ibid)’.

I will not explain the inner workings of the resurrection parasite as this would take us into spoiler territory. With respect to the kernel of this essay: that science fiction is the successor of scripture, what we have with the Hyperion and Endymion books, is the attempt to marry the world of science and faith. With the religious order taking up a leadership role in effecting this outcome, and doing so by placing its trust in technology rather than miracles to generate the link.

By recasting the central human problem of death as the focal point of the Church’s mission, this new temporal + spiritual power is able to win followers to Christ and expand its institutional control over the physical world.

The future Catholic Church recognizes the best way to win souls for the kingdom is to secure their life and longevity on Earth. Eternal life, rather than being life after death, has become ‘life from death’ or life to the exclusion of all death! Interestingly there is some scriptural precedent to support this view. When Jesus, prior to the raising of Lazarus states:

‘I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die’ (John 11: 25 – 26).

The story of Lazarus is important in relation to the Hyperion books.

In the events leading up to the raising of Martha’s brother, there is some confusion about Jesus’s intentions and more seriously his ability to raise the dead. The famous phrase ‘Jesus wept’ adds a degree of uncertainty to his power to do so. After all, why would man weep over a problem, however, serious, if he has the power to correct or unmake it in no time?

So when Jesus finally brings Lazarus back to life more questions emerge on the nature of the miracle. For it is not the only time that Jesus had brought the dead to life. The raising of Jairus’s daughter is a case in point. What is different with Lazarus is that the man had been dead for days. Meaning the body was well into its decomposition stage. However, Christ in raising the dead man, was also able to reverse the anatomical breakdown that had occurred since the passing of his soul. That is if one adopts the ‘ghost in the machine’ interpretation. This is a point I have engaged in my essay on The Problem with Believing in Jesus Christ.

Now concerning the Pax’s goal of providing immortality to the faithful does hit on a central feature of Christ’s ministry: which is to advance life here on Earth. The power the future Catholic Church has sought and attained via its pact with the future AIs enables it to do this. When Christ said:

‘The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full’ (John 10: 10).

There is a clear implication that the Messianic age was meant to be fruitful, and joyful, and to use a term that defines the modern world, productive. The coming of Christ was meant to be the beginning of an era where the faithful would benefit from blessings that would uplift them, improve their material conditions and give them a new lease of life to live it faithfully and in holiness:

‘Go back and report to John what you hear and see: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor. Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of me’ (Matthew 11: 4 – 6).

Notice the language, there is very little talk of going to heaven. That healing, blessing and joy as something to be experienced only when people get to kingdom come, is nowhere to be found. Something for us to think about.

The idea of going to heaven as a reward in light of technological advancements, rise in productivity levels and standards of living enabled through economic growth, and the promise of social liberation through political action can be viewed cynically or dismissively. The promise of heavenly reward if internalized can become a disempowering force driving persons away from thinking proactively and taking action to improve their lot in the here and now.

Whilst the idea of ‘riches in heaven’ and the rewards in the world to come, was no doubt a key part of Christ’s ministry. Those teachings, I would argue are specifically meant for the leadership of the Church, and more generally for those involved in ministry. Those who have chosen to live for the sake of hereafter by foregoing the pleasures and promises of worldly reward and upliftment.

A point that can be sustained by the teachings of Christ on the subject of relationships and material possessions;

‘Truly I tell you, […] no one who has left home or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields for me and the gospel will fail to receive a hundred times as much in this present age: homes, brothers, sisters, mothers, children and fields—along with persecutions—and in the age to come eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and the last first’ (Mark 10: 29 – 31).

Christ here appears to be making a paradoxical point. Potentially a contradictory one. Whilst he affirms the point that those who forgo good things in this world: including healthy, productive relationships, stand to receive material abundance, and relationships as a reward, in addition to eternal life; but this point seems to contradict his argument about the eye of the needle. The eye of the needle analogy implies that the denial and/or absence of material possessions and the joys, including relational ones, that come with it, eases the pathway towards heaven.

Here an argument can be made that those who are required to deny their connection and want of material possessions and relationships are those who are called to advance the Kingdom evangelically. A point which fits in with the view that Christ’s mission was twofold. One: to give people the Good News about the Kingdom of Heaven; and two: to manifest the reality of the Kingdom: that is the promise of health, wealth (or material abundance), freedom and joy in the here and now.

The fact that Jesus Christ deemed it good and right to heal the sick, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and even bring the dead to life, meant that his mission to the world was to elevate human life to a higher plane of living, now. Returning to the Pax of the Hyperion universe, the compact between the future Catholic Church and the AI TechnoCore was at its core, a self-interested arrangement that served the selfish interests of both parties. With the real purpose of cruciforms horrifying as it is promising.

However, the Catholic Church, in its defense, saw the promise of immortality as a gift, not too different from the fruit produced by the Tree of Life in Eden. Accepting the resurrection parasite was akin to eating the fruit from the Tree of Life, whereby man could live forever, however imperfectly with the fruits of the Tree of Knowledge at his disposal. Working, striving, struggling but all the while trying to make the world and himself a better reflection of the original (pre-Fall) creation. 

Making our Maker in our own Image
– The Matrix Trilogy (1999 – 2003)

One of the key forces underpinning the rise of AI lies in the promise and potential it carries for humanity. The belief that one day AIs will match and possibly surpass us. How, in what way, and how further out in the future, it is unclear. However, what is beyond dispute is the belief in AIs as a path-breaking force that will unlock new possibilities driving the evolution of society, culture and the possibility of humanity.

Whilst it is easy to get lost in the hype, the growing ubiquity, and advancing capabilities of artificial intelligence, what is easy to overlook is the real nature of AIs. AIs, however complex, and sophisticated they may be or become, are ultimately tools. AIs are, if one is to use the word, ‘creations’ of man. To quote Morpheus from the first film in the Matrix trilogy:

“We marveled at our own magnificence as we gave birth to AI”.

Artificial intelligence, be they computer algorithms, or robotics that are powered by software programs that can operate with various levels of autonomy, are ultimately the products of the human mind. Whilst I take issue with Morpheus’s language, on humans ‘giving birth to AI’-which seems to imply, at least it did to me at first, that the machines were somehow incubated within human bodies-the point remains that without humans providing the developmental environment, writing the foundational models, building and training the right algorithms and providing the computational resources, including the hardware required to run these programs, nothing, as far AIs are concerned, gets done.

The value of AI is determined by its use in productive applications. Meaning AIs must necessarily be problem-solving in nature, with the very existence of AIs being a function of their utility. This is a point that is often missed in debates surrounding AIs with respect to their current and especially future potential. The notion that AIs will at some point surpass us, and then potentially ‘replace us’, often overlooks the fact that artificial intelligence, like any technology before it, is a product of human hands, and exists to aid human life.

When Morpheus tells Neo that “Throughout history we have been dependent on machines to survive, fate it seems is not without a sense of irony”, he is assuming like all doom-mongers in the real world (no pun intended), from Stephen Hawking to Elon Musk that AIs will not only surpass humans in capability, but they will necessarily turn against us. Stephen Hawking in 2014 even stated that “The development of full artificial intelligence could spell the end of the human race” (13).

Obviously, the disparities in intelligence and accomplishments between these minds and yours truly must be factored in. And no doubt there is always the possibility that things can indeed go awry when Strong AIs enter the picture. However, the deeper point here, one that works into the subject of making our Maker in our image, is that artificial intelligences are meant to be versions of ourselves. Speculatively, they are intended to be better, superior, fitter versions of ourselves. But ultimately they are us… in some way. No matter their powers, and capabilities, ultimately they are meant to be our servitors.

The idea of making our Maker, or at least a subpar version of it, in our own image, comports with the view of God making us in his image. In Genesis God’s says:

‘Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground’ (Genesis 1: 26).

When God created us, he knew his creations were an inferior version of himself. Whilst imbued with many abilities including the power and mandate to lord over creation, man as a created entity, by his very essence was limited. For that is what God intended to be in the first place.

With AIs it is a bit different. If one reads into the fears of the potential dangers that AIs could pose to its makers (i.e. us) it unmasks the underlying worldview of the key players involved in the development of AI.

Considering that it is not solely up to these luminaries to engineer machines, write algorithms, and build automata that can replicate and mimic human actions, behavior and even thoughts. Such efforts to build and propagate AI systems are sustained as per their economic viability in a commercial sense, and justified on political grounds for aiding humanity as a collective in its quest for longer, wealthier, healthier lives in a socio-cultural sense.

However, it is impossible to not notice a negative undercurrent that marks the workings of key stakeholders involved in AI, from those involved in its development to the science popularizers who consider it their role to evangelize the hope and promise that AIs portend. But amidst the extravagance and hype, there is a growing sense of this oncoming, apparently inevitable reduction in the significance and centrality of human life.

The question is why? Why would our creations, no matter how powerful and sophisticated they may become, turn on their masters?

The answer takes us back again to Genesis. Adam’s choice to disobey God and to eat from the fruit of The Knowledge of Good and Evil can be seen as an attempt; an ambitious/arrogant grasp at something his Maker had not only denied him but strictly prohibited him from seeking.

Knowledge? Yes. But more specifically, the paradoxical freedom that a new level of awareness that the consumption of the forbidden fruit would enable.

In the Fall narrative, the pathway to this forbidden mental state of heightened awareness gave Adam the ability to take control of his destiny and shape the course of his future on his own terms; minus the guiding, healing, moderating hand of his Maker. The sin of Adam opened the door to all sins that would plague the rest of humanity. When it comes to the pursuit of ‘Strong’ or General AI, humans are faced with a different but similar set of choices.

First to define some terminology: ‘Strong’ Ai as opposed to ‘Weak’ or ‘Narrow’ Ai, refers to intelligent machines whose capabilities are comparable, if not indistinguishable from human beings. Whilst weak AI is task-specific in its problem-solving capabilities, Strong AI can perform a range of operations.

Whilst it is still reliant on human inputs and guidance in its early developmental stages, Strong or General AI will in time begin to teach itself (i.e. write superior algorithms) and develop capabilities independent of human direction. Eventually reaching a form of sentience that enables it to showcase agency (i.e. think for itself). This stage in AI development is still theoretical. However, the deeper philosophical question it raises in relation to human freedom and our Creator remains.

The test of freewill posed to the first humans in the Garden of Eden is now posed to humanity. Or rather, humanity is posing the question to itself. What happens when the AIs we give rise to, attain a degree of freedom and agency with which they will be able to shape their own destiny? Apart from and possibly in opposition to our own?

Returning to Dan Simmons, the acclaimed SF writer’s view that: ‘Nothing is a real creation unless it has the autonomy and ability to do things undreamed of by its designers’ is promising as it is terrifying. If the AI we give rise to attain sentience, and if they do come to perceive us as a threat, or as creations that have outlived its purpose, and if they do decide to act on this belief: that is to exterminate their own creators; the question is, how different would the AIs of the future be from the us: the humans who rebelled against their Creator and grabbed freedom and agency for themselves?

An even more concerning question is: what if humanity recognizes this danger, but yet chooses to press ahead with the efforts to give birth to the very things that will someday destroy us? Is it an act of self-inflicted punishment for the collective guilt of mankind: for our rebellion against our Maker, and our history of Sin, that has caused so much pain and anguish? So enabling the rise of vindictive AIs is seen as just punishment for the collective guilt of all humanity?

In the Matrix movies [with much of the backstory provided in the animated history of the movies: The Animatrix (2003)], the AIs’ rise to power is a progressive one. From the emergence of sentient robots that act with a degree of autonomy, that are built to serve humanity. Then following a famous incident where a robot kills its owner, the resulting legal and political fallout triggers widespread pro and anti-robot movements across the world. Culminating in the mass extermination of robots.

The surviving machines and their human supporters embark on a mass exodus to a new destination: ‘Mesopotamia’. Where a new machine civilization is established. Naming itself ‘Zero One’. At a certain point in the history of this new machine nation, the technological singularity is reached.

This is important. For the attainment of, not just sentience, but the (for now) hypothetical point where technological advancement that is machine led, opens the floodgates to vast technical changes and the necessary sociological disruptions that would evolve apart from humanity. This stage would mark a new point in the history of ‘life’ (organic or machine) on Earth.

One of the leading thinkers who propounded the Singularity is Vernor Vinge. Who in his famous essay The Technological Singularity describes such a future:

‘It is a point where our old models must be discarded and a new reality rules, a point that will loom vaster and vaster over human affairs until the notion becomes a commonplace…’ (14).

Vinge sees the Singularity as the point that marks an acceleration in the process of natural selection (the currently dominant view of how complex life evolved). The present order is where we humans dictate the nature and speed of progress by our “ability to internalize the world and conduct what-if’s in our heads” to problem solve, develop breakthroughs, and develop new solutions. All of this will be put into overdrive with the onset of the Singularity: with the speed of technological change and the effects it has on life (human and machine) being comparable to the shift in progress between humans and animals.

In his landmark paper, Vinge’s cites the British mathematician I. J. Good’s 1965 article: Speculations Concerning the First Ultraintelligent Machine. In which the author speculates on not only the emergence of sentient AI, but how such a machine intelligence would, in turn, spawn even greater entities, with superior computing power and intellect. At which point human progress technological (or otherwise) would be left in the hands of sentient machines that would determine the progress of society and possibly life as a whole. At this point, humanity is no longer dealing with Strong or General Ai but with its ultimate manifestation ultra-intelligence:

‘Let an ultraintelligent machine be defined as a machine that can far surpass all the intellectual activities of any man however clever. Since the design of machines is one of these intellectual activities, an ultraintelligent machine could design even better machines; there would then unquestionably be an “intelligence explosion,” and the intelligence of man would be left far behind. Thus the first ultraintelligent machine is the last invention that man need ever make, provided that the machine is docile enough to tell us how to keep it under control…’ (ibid).

Such a future where the agency to direct the course of history and the evolution of life is forcefully ripped from us is scary. However, another more poignant reading is mea culpa: we humans have sinned against our Creator. Not only in the Fall but in every moment since. We have failed our Maker. We have failed because we are arrogant. Because we are proud. And above all, because, despite our great stores of knowledge and technical accomplishments, we are ultimately foolish, which itself is a sin (Proverbs 24:9).

In striving to shape the future that we see fit, we stumble upon the idea that to do so we need to build a supreme power that can dream what we dream, want what we want, and do what we do but only better. Much, much better. Thus we proceed to make something that is like us, but different from us. A construct that possesses all our strengths but none of our ‘weaknesses’. A god from the machine. A god of our making. A god that treats its creators the way its own creators (we) treated theirs.

The question has to be asked what was Adam planning to do once he had eaten from The Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil? Was he planning to challenge the Almighty? The devil’s claim in Genesis 3 that:

“For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil”.

Seems to imply that upon eating the fruit Adam and Eve will attain a higher level of consciousness, one that would enable them to become god-like beings who can counter the divine’s authority. This failed. However, it didn’t stop humanity from trying to reach for the heavens.

From the Tower of Babel when mankind tried to literally reach for the heavens (and possibly challenge its authority) to the attempts to build artificial intelligence with superhuman capabilities that will in theory be god-like. What is different now is that humanity seems to know that such an endeavor, were it to succeed, could potentially lead to its downfall. Yet it seems justified to persist in the quest to replace the (loving) God of Creation with the gods of our creation.

At the end of Matrix Revolutions when Neo confronts the Machine Mainframe-effectively the God of the AIs-he presents the machine with an offer: the terms of peace in return for the destruction of the rogue program Smith-which has grown beyond the governing AI’s control.

Neo fights Smith in a battle he was destined to lose. However, he does not lose. For in his defeat, having been assimilated by the replicating phage that seeks to turn everything into its (warped) self, Neo is able to destroy his adversary (and himself) via his link to the Supreme AI intelligence. The Machine Mainframe using Neo as a vector and installs a corrective program that purges the Smith virus from all the infected inside the Matrix. But kills the ‘blind Messiah’ in the process. The system now purged of the corrupting effects of the rouge program, the Machine Mainframe establishes a new concord with humans and the two coexist in peace.

The death or the second death of Neo Anderson in the Matrix features a number of parallels to the death of Christ on the Cross. Christ by dying on the Cross destroys the power of death and through the Resurrection paved the way for a new elevated human-God connection to flourish.

For by his death, he assimilates all Sin (evil) unto himself, but since he is God, as a second member of the Trinity, through his connection to the Father through the Holy Spirit, he is able to overcome the evil by becoming the embodiment of physical death. But through the Resurrection, he overcomes Sin and death which was spiritual and physical in nature. And through the Ascension, a new communion between God and man is established. With humanity now elevated to a new life that is bound to the Maker as it was in the beginning.

From the Son of God to God-Man:
Mass Effect Series (2007 – 2012)

This part of this essay was originally meant to be a standalone work analyzing the acclaimed (arguably the greatest) science fiction video game franchise ever: Mass Effect. Whilst that essay remains an incomplete work-one that I hope to revisit-for now I would keep what amounts to a comparative analysis between the protagonist of Mass Effect and our Lord succinct.

Also, the choice to go with the award-winning third-person shooter helps round out this essay with three types of media that have engaged the topic of Sci-Fi: books, movies and now video games.

Mass Effect is a big game, and unlike in the previous examples: The Matrix movies, and Hyperion books, elucidating the connection between science fiction and scripture, requires some degree of ‘world-explaining’. Whilst it is tempting to simply explain the traits, motivations, goals, character and accomplishments of the game’s protagonist and its relationship to the Son of Man and leave it at that. But to understand the nature of this connection, and its existential significance, a closer look at the world of Mass Effect in relation to the world of Jesus Christ is warranted.

The Setting

The main story of Mass Effect takes place at some point during the 22nd century. Following humanity’s discovery of a cache of ancient technology beneath the surface of Mars, left behind by the now-extinct Prothean civilization, unlocks the use of mass effect fields. Mass effect fields are produced when the extremely rare element zero or ‘ezeo’ as it is known, is subjected to electrical currents that rely on dark energy physics.

The manipulation of mass effect fields via element zero is central to the world of Mass Effect. The high or low energy fields generated by the use of element zero, by increasing or decreasing the mass content of spacetime opened up a new frontier in physics that was hitherto inaccessible to man.

The ability to decrease mass (low-mass fields) enabled faster-than-light (FTL) travel, including the reduction of the massive economic cost and thrust and energy requirements that underpin surface-to-orbit travel. Low-mass fields effectively lowered the mass of spaceships, countering the increase in mass of objects moving close to or at the speed of light, according to the theory of special relativity. High-mass fields on the other hand can produce artificial gravity and are employed in manufacturing a variety of state of the art construction materials.

Biological sensitivity to mass effect fields is another feature of the game. Whilst certain alien species like the Asari come with natural sensitivity to mass-effect fields (known as ‘Biotics’) which enables them to generate mass-effect fields naturally via nodes embedded in their bodies that can manipulate element zero. Other species, like humans, also show biotic aptitudes, though it is much rarer, and is often the result of some level of element zero exposure, which is often harmful.

Potentials with biotic promise can be trained to develop mass-effect field-producing or manipulating capabilities with the aid of implants. These implants augment extant biotic abilities and are often employed in combat scenarios: such as generating kinetic fields, telekinesis and even producing miniature gravitational singularities with devastating effects.

The advances in FTL, and other technological advancements made possible by the mastery of mass effect fields accelerate humanity’s foray into deep space.

A key moment in humanity’s space-faring age was the discovery of the Charon Relay near Pluto. Relays are mass transit devices that are spread across the Milky Way galaxy. They are made of two curved, aligned metal structures stretching for almost 15kms, that feature a gyroscopic ring that contains a massive blue core containing the element zero. These vast, virtually impervious space objects are protected by shields based on advanced physics that are said to even withstand the effect of a supernova.

Mass relays are the Mass Effect universe’s method of instantaneous travel. Like any good science fiction, the limitations of faster-than-light travel, notably the effects of time dilation and the immense costs it imposes on an interstellar civilization are understood and addressed.

The mass relays depending on the type (there are two) can propel spaceships using it, hundreds or even thousands of light years to the next or linked mass relay. This mode of travel sets interstellar travel into overdrive. However, the exploration of space leads humanity into contact with its first major interstellar power: the Turians.

I will leave out the details of the confrontation between humanity and the warlike space-faring species here. But the human activation of a then deactivated mass relay (Relay 314), which was in violation of Council law, and the Turian response (to attack us) sets off the First Contact War. The war, however, was brought to an abrupt end thanks to the timely intervention by the Citadel Council: the ruling body of Citadel Space.

Citadel Space refers to the region of the Milky Way galaxy that recognizes the authority of the Citadel Council. The council is made of representatives of major alien species that have linked up through the use of mass relays, and the volume of space that has been colonized or brought under the jurisdiction of the three (bipedal) species that constitute it: The biotic, long-lived Asari, the short-lived but vastly intelligent Salarians, and the war-like Turians.

Humans were the latest entry into the Citadel Council which is stationed in the Citadel: the 44.7km long 12.8km wide (when fully open) space station. A technological marvel that is believed to have been constructed by the extinct Protheans. The Citadel is the political and cultural hub of that governs galactic affairs in this future space age. It is where interplanetary, and interstellar politics involving the Council species and other major alien civilizations like the amphibious and tremendously powerful Krogans, to the thuggish, four-eyed Batarians take place. The latter which roam the wild, wild West of space: the Terminus Systems, which lie outside Council control.

The Council exerts its influence and power over Citadel Space (and beyond) through the wisdom and diplomatic acumen of the Asari; the technical breakthroughs and tradecraft of the Salarians; and the peacekeeping activities backed up the military force of the Turians.

Yet critical to the goals and vision of the Council is its secretive combat arm: Spectre (Special Tactics and Reconnaissance). The Spectres are the special operations arm of the Council that are given considerable powers and freedoms to act on behalf of the Council to advance its interests. The Spectres are made of the elite combatants often chosen from the Council species. Bestowing this privileged position of power is often understood as the wider acceptance of the species the Spectre agent is chosen from.

Commander John Shepard, the main character of the Mass Effect series, whose history, aptitudes, proficiencies and later, the moral predilections, are all determined by player choice is a Spectre. A human with a heart and a natural leader in optimal physical and mental form. He is the best that humanity has to offer. And it is he the player controls in this galaxy-wide conflict against foes ranging from Batarian slavers, a rogue Spectre agent, hordes of rebellious AIs, Krogan mercenaries, and human private armies among others. With the greatest challenge the Commander faces: to bring together the warring factions of humans and aliens to provide a united front against an ancient enemy that threatens all organic life.

 

The Plot

The main plot point of Mass Effect centers on one thing: the oncoming destruction of life in the galaxy at the hands of an ancient chimeric species of machine-gods called the Reapers. The role of Commander Shepard in the course of three games-three self-contained but interconnected stories-is to learn the nature of this oncoming catastrophe, understand the ways of combating it, garner support for the cause of defending life; engage and help overcome the personal, and political and military conflicts that afflicts the pivotal players whose lives and worlds stand to be changed forever by the coming of this dark power. Given the scope of the story, I will provide a short overview of the three games to summarize the plot.

Mass Effect

The first game in the series, released in 2007 follows the story of John Shepard and his confrontation with the rogue Spectre, Saren Aterius. Saren, a xenophobic Turian influenced/indoctrinated by the Reaper Sovereign, is committed to the view that the onset of the Reaper invasion is not only inevitable but necessary. The destruction of galactic civilizations and the culling of countless lives by the Reapers is inescapable and the only way for life to survive was to submit to the power of the Reapers.

Saren leads an army of Geth: sentient machines, created by the humanoid Quarians, they rebelled against. The Geth that aid Saren worship the ‘old machines’ (as the Reapers are known) as gods, and consider him to be the prophet who would herald the return of their future masters. Saren, under the influence of Sovereign, fights to pave the way for the return of the ancient machines whose power far surpasses that of all species in the galaxy, carrying out his mission with heartless cruelty.

Commander Shepard’s mission is to forestall Saren’s efforts and eventually confront him in battle. In the process building alliances with humans and aliens alike, to defeat the enemies of life and freedom. The first installment in the Mass Effect, whilst not doing anything too spectacular, gets almost everything right. A great hero. A heinous foe. Great world-building. Likable characters. Awesome third-person combat mechanics. And great stakes that set up the next game perfectly.

If one is to read some metaphysics into the story. Commander Shepard is the Christ figure who is tasked with confronting the prophet of doom: Saren Aterius. Saren and his Geth armies are the literal embodiment of evil that seek to destroy and enslave life, and to pave the way for the coming of great evil. Saren is in many ways the great deceiver. One who preaches the message of deliverance through slavery. Of freedom through submission. Whose machinations are countered by the force of truth, courage and justice: Commander Shepard, gaming’s avatar of Christ.

Mass Effect 2

Mass Effect 2 is one of the best RPG games and one of the greatest games ever made. The second installment begins with an attack on the Normandy, Commander Shepard’s ship by a massive alien craft. The attack is devastating. As many on board the ship fall, and proves fatal to the protagonist, who is, for all sense and purposes, killed, as he is thrown into the vacuum of space. But this can’t be… We are only minutes into the second game, and the protagonist is gone?

Not for long. As the remains of John Shepard are salvaged and then put through the Lazarus Project. A multi-year long, multi-billion credit (equivalent of dollars) initiative to bring the Commander back to life. A vast undertaking that involved the rebuilding of the tissues, skeletal reconstruction, and regenerative medicine to reconstitute damaged or destroyed organs. Shepard’s body is held together by cybernetic implants that also augment his innate capabilities. The newly resurrected Shepard is a stronger, leaner version of himself. Having passed from death to life he is the man who can take the fight to the new servants of the ancient enemy: the Collectors. A once powerful alien species, that have been corrupted and enslaved by the Reapers to do their bidding.

I will not delve further into the story Mass Effect 2. What matters here are the parallels between the Son of Man and the son of a man, John Shepard. Both men are warriors in their own right. Both men are called to be leaders. Both men are able to do tremendous things. Both men are willing to fight to the end to reach their goals. Both men are defined by their love for humanity and for life in general. Both men love what is good and hate what is evil. The difference is that they are made to operate in totally different realities. With the enemies of life and freedom taking a different, more tangible form in the Mass Effect universe. Requiring a different kind of messiah to effect change.

Mass Effect 3

The Reapers have arrived. Planets under and beyond Council control are under attack by the overwhelming power of the chimeric machines. Like so many other stories that have been told throughout the ages, only one man stands in their way.

Mass Effect 3 is a great game that is notorious in the gaming community for its ending. Whatever one’s opinions might be of the final product, the final installment in the acclaimed science fiction franchise succeeded on so many levels. Providing spectacle after spectacle capturing the climatic moments of conflicts that rage across the galaxy. With the many personal, planetary and species-level conflicts that impinge on the main mission of the protagonist coming to a climatic conclusion. As the civilizations of organic (and some synthetic) life edge towards a final confrontation with the god-like chimeric machines.

This is not a review of the game. What matters in our debate on science fiction as the successor of scripture is the ending. Yes, that ending. As gamers would know, it has divided, and united segments of the fan base since the saga concluded in 2012.

The controversy surrounding the nature of the endings came down to the respect given to player choice. Having the decisions the player makes over the course of 3 games have a meaningful impact on the final outcome is critical from the standpoint of closure to the story, and in affirming the centrality of player agency.

At the conclusion of Mass Effect 3 Commander Shepard is faced with three choices that result in three different endings that correspond to the color scheme that tints the world that results from the choice: red, green and blue. The availability of each of these endings will vary depending on the kind of choices the player makes through the games, and notably on the level of war assets that has been amassed in preparation to meet the Reaper threat. But critically for our discussion one of the ending helps center the divine character of Commander Shepard.

The Christ Connection

So what exactly is the relationship between Christ and the Commander? The answer lies in the opposites.

What makes Commander Shepard a compelling alternative to the Christ figure is that he represents everything that humanity strives for, desires and hopes for in a hero. Whilst Christ is upheld as the paragon of virtue, a symbol of hope, an embodiment of love, and the pathway to deliverance. Commander Shepard embodies these very qualities in a more real, grounded, relatable and ultimately more believable way. For Christ, whilst a great example of self-giving sacrifice, falls short of the heroic ideal in most respects.

Let’s break it down.

On Love

Christ is characterized as the perfect embodiment of God’s love. The love of God for humanity is fully concretized in the life, works and the ultimate sacrifice of Jesus Christ. Much has been said on the subject of Christ’s love. Pertinent to our debate is what has not been said on this subject. Whilst Christ loved us so much that he was willing to lay down his life for us. What is notably absent here is the romantic, the sensual, the erotic and in a sense, the aspirational character of love.

In his first encyclical Deus Caritas Est (God is Love) Pope Benedict XVI comments on the Nietzschean position that Christianity had poisoned the erotic. The scholarly Pope observes that the word ‘eros’ is virtually absent in scripture: with the Old Testament referring to the term only twice, while the New Testament does not use it all. As one of the terms used to describe love, eros, along with philia (friendship), and agape (sacrifice); the erotic dimension of love is completely bypassed by New Testament scholars.

The lack of engagement of the erotic in relation to love, to the overwhelming preoccupation with the brotherly and sacrificial aspects of love, the Pope admits, led to the critical view among Enlightenment thinkers and other progressives that Christianity as a system of belief was inimical to the sensual proclivities of man. That whenever the erotic is engaged it is viewed solely through the lens of disdain, censure, cynicism and unease.

This view is incorrect. Pope Benedict, in his typically erudite fashion, explains that the erotic dimension is a gift from God, one that provides a glimpse into the divine. Challenging the view that:

‘[T]he Church, with all her commandments and prohibitions, turn to bitterness the most precious thing in life? Doesn’t she blow the whistle just when the joy which is the Creator’s gift offers us a happiness which is itself a certain foretaste of the Divine?’ (15).

To counter this view, the Pope argues that eros finds its fulfillment in man when it is:

‘disciplined and purified’. So as to provide ‘not just fleeting pleasure, but a certain foretaste of the pinnacle of our existence, of that beatitude for which our whole being yearns’.

This is important. The Pope here is making a bold assertion that human sexuality, besides being a gift from God; the beauty and pleasure it embodies acts as a connection to the divine. As eros when it is fully realized affirms:

‘[T]he fact that man is a being made up of body and soul. Man is truly himself when his body and soul are intimately united; the challenge of eros can be said to be truly overcome when this unification is achieved. Should he aspire to be pure spirit and to reject the flesh as pertaining to his animal nature alone, then spirit and body would both lose their dignity. On the other hand, should he deny the spirit and consider matter, the body, as the only reality, he would likewise lose his greatness’ (ibid).

The problem with Christianity is that its founder, who is supposed to be the perfect embodiment of God’s love in this world does not exhibit the erotic dimension. Not one bit. In many ways, the life of Christ as it is present in scripture is functionally opposed to the erotic. From the total absence of any romantic prospects involving the opposite sex; to his lifestyle: that of a wandering preacher; to his aspirations in life: essentially anti-materialistic and world-rejecting.

Christ’s famous encounter with the rich young ruler, if one is to read it cynically (i.e. Christ as only man but not God) can be seen as the envious ramblings of a frustrated man who has little going on in his life: in terms of money, power and women; and feels justified to tear down a person of superior standing to make himself, who has none of it, feel uplifted.

The centrality of sex to human life: from the reproductive, the sensual, the cultural and the social is well known. To have sex, from the standpoint of a man who desires women, is not a straightforward task. Leaving aside the idea (and sin) of paying for sex, getting a woman into bed with you involves a complex process of showcasing interest, developing a connection, building compliance, communicating intent, elevating passion, and then moving towards consummation. All of which encompass a relationship of some sort. And preceding that the capacity to have a relationship. A capacity which is predicated on, you guessed it, money, power and honor.

Take pleasure for example. To experience pleasure-that is to have a fulfilling sex life-one needs to have other things going for you. ‘Thingsthat the rich man did and Christ did not. Here an argument can be made that if Christ deemed it fit to chastise the rich young man on his wealth, and by extension on all that wealth represents. That by definition meant he was opposed to pleasure and the erotic dimension as a whole. This inference can be reinforced by the life that Christ (is believed to have) led: one of total celibacy.

The idea that the Son of Man is ‘sinless’ partly is a function of his sexlessness. At least that is what scripture has to say about him, based on what it does not say about him.

Contrast this with the plight of Commander Shepard, who, based on player choice is allowed to partake in a number of relationships. Notably in Mass Effect 2, John Shepard is able to connect with, then hook up with either Miranda Lawson (genetically engineered human female), Tali (a lithe alien female) or Jack (a vixen female human). And the relationship that develops is serious. With the connection Shepard forms with the chosen girl carrying on into the next game and to the end of the story.

The girl I went for is the Cerberus Officer Miranda Lawson. The genetically engineered beauty, based on the sexy Polish-Australian actress Yvonne Strahovski: whose physiognomy and movements are motion captured to near-perfection; with the payoff for the relationship building being a much-awaited union with the raven-haired babe onboard the Normandy SR-2. In gaming circles, Miranda has become something of a sex symbol. A way for male gamers to exercise the ‘male gaze’, and satiate their digital fantasies.

Seriously though, one of the things that makes Miranda Lawson a catch is that she comes with a full package: She’s smart, conscientious, combative and kicks ass when necessary. And she’s hot. Adding to her appeal, she’s the type of girl who is not going to give it away to any guy. The kinda guy who is going to get her to spread her legs needs to be an alpha. A man defined by strength, courage, leadership, authority or in a word: power. All of which Commander Shepard embodies to near perfection.

Jesus is none of these things… In Scripture.

Jesus may have been all-powerful, such as being able to call upon legions of angels to fight for him. But he is (portrayed as) a mediocrity by virtually every other measure. A mediocrity by choice, one would argue. After all, that is what his mission entailed: In terms of the challenges that he had to face and the obstacles that he had to overcome. But that still doesn’t change anything as far as who he was as a man outside his ministry. A nobody.

Here an argument (a controversial one) can be made that Christ as a symbol, an example, a role model gained traction owing to his status as a nonentity. The fact that Christ never made money (like a successful businessman); never gained recognition (prior to his death); was not respected by his society (besides his ragtag apostles); never went to war and conquered his opposition (unlike the dominant Greeks and Romans); never produced anything of value (like an industrialist or entrepreneur); and never got laid.

One here is reminded of Nietzsche’s words:

‘The most spiritual men, as the strongest, find their happiness others would find their destruction: in the labyrinth, in hardness against themselves and others, in experiments. Their joy is self-conquest: asceticism becomes in them nature, need, and instinct. Difficult tasks are a privilege to them; to play with burdens that crush others, a recreation’ (16).

The Christian example of goodness as exemplified by faith, charity, humility, brotherhood and sacrifice operates from a select interpretation of love. It is a ‘love’ that is non-sensual, non-sexual, and by extension non-heroic and non-aspirational. It is a love of service, servitude and self-denial. It is a love that stems from a world-rejecting view of life and necessarily God.

For God, as this transcendental being is viewed as totally separate from human life, whose only interest lies in the spiritual welfare of the creature: that is their eternal well-being. So only human thoughts, beliefs and acts that are oriented towards the healing, betterment and upliftment of the soul are affirmed.

This state of affairs is most evident in the hierarchy of the Catholic Church. An institution led by celibate persons who have, at least in theory, eschewed the pleasures of life and rejected their affinity with material joys. This way of life is justified based on the person of Christ, who, according to the scattershot presentation of his life in scripture was one that never rose above the mediocre as far as the material, the sexual, the powerful and honorable dimensions.

The problem is that these principally world-rejecting qualities of Christ and his clerical followership are taken as a positive. Things that are supposed to affirm the goodness of Christ and the faithful actually works against them in an increasingly rational, logical and materialistic character of the modern world.

A key reason why Christianity is losing ground in the modern world is owing to this deep disconnect between what the transcendental demands and what the human heart desires. Where rising in one’s career, in relationships, social networks, and political organization are the barometers of success and by extension goodness. Thus the absence of financial security, healthy relationships, social recognition and political enfranchisement necessarily implies something evil or the lack of good.

Whilst Commander Shepard is not the Son of God, due to his skills, personal growth, fruitful relationships, leadership in combat and courage in the face of astounding adversity, he is able to rise as a competent warrior. A true, relatable leader of men. A man who does what is expected of him and more. Because he is a man who believes in abilities, the importance of the mission, and the urgency of the goal that unites all those who fight alongside him.

He fights an enemy that is real. He is fighting for a kingdom that is of this world: tangible, complex and whilst not perfect, it is beautiful in its own right and worth saving. In his mission is to save humanity and indeed all organic life and he is willing to do whatever it takes. He does not live for kingdom come. He lives to fight for today so that life can have a better tomorrow.

What Defines the God-Man?

The idea of the God-man I have referred to at various times in this essay needs some exploration. The concept comes from Hegel, a titan of German philosophy. Murray Rothbard, in his monumental An Austrian Perspective on History of Economic Thought explains:

‘Hegel pursued the goal of unifying man and God by virtually identifying God as man, and thereby submerging the former into the latter […] Man-God begins his life in history totally unconscious of his divine status [..]. History [..] then is a process by which the man-God increases his knowledge, until he finally reaches the state of absolute knowledge, that is, the full knowledge and realization that he is God. In that case, man-God finally realizes his potential of an infinite being without bounds, possessed of absolute knowledge’ (17).

At the end of Mass Effect 3 (spoilers) one of the endings involves the mass synthesis of organic and synthetic life. The merging results in the emergence of a new form of life that apparently contains the best of both worlds. An outcome effectuated by the final act of self-giving by the Commander. In this new reality life attains a new (possibly the final) stage in its relationship with the machines. The endpoint of organic and machine evolution.

Returning to Hegelian metaphysics of the man-God, Rothbard explains:

‘History […] for Hegel, is a process by which the man-God increases his knowledge, until he finally reaches the state of absolute knowledge, that is the full knowledge and realization that he is God. In that case, man-God finally realizes his potential of an infinite being without bounds, possessed of absolute knowledge [..]

[The] process of growing consciousnesses is achieved through creative activity by which the world-self externalized itself. This externalization first by creating nature of the original world, but second […] there is a continuing self-externalization through human history. [By] this second process [..] man, the collective organism, expands his building of civilization, his creative externalizing, and hence his increasing knowledge of his own divinity, and therefore of the world as his own self-actualization’ (ibid).

‘Expands his building of civilization’!

The third option at the conclusion of Mass Effect 3: of the merger between man and machine, resulting in the complete unity between organics and synthetics is pertinent here. Contrary to what the antagonist of the first game Saren Aterius wanted: the willful slavery of all organics to the chimeric gods; the synthesis option is interesting in that the newly merged organic/machine life in someways mirrors the true identity of the reapers. They are not pure AI.

The original Reapers were the product of an intelligence created by an ancient organic species that lorded over all species during its time: the Leviathans. The gigantic squid-like organics whose external shape the Reapers would adopt, recognized that when organics attain a degree of technological advancement, the emergence of powerful AIs necessarily follows. Built as servitors to their organic masters, the machines, the Leviathans recognize, inevitably turn on their masters.

To prevent this cycle the ‘intelligence’ later known as the Catalyst was built by the Leviathans to study, oversee and ensure the balance between organics and synthetics. However, this intelligence in turn turned on the Leviathans defeating their civilization and processing them into the first Reapers. The Reapers are machine-biologic hybrids that exist to harvest life, paradoxically, for the sake of ‘persevering’ it from its future demise at the hands of AIs that it will create, and in turn, be wiped out.

However, this process of preservation comes at an astronomical cost. Every 50,000 years the Reapers would return from dark space (the intergalactic regions), and carry out a xenocidal campaign against dominant (spacefaring) civilization(s). Destroying their power base, wiping out their population, and then harvesting and persevering the genetic materials, and collective knowledge of the destroyed civilization. Then reintegrate the remains into their own. As Sovereign, the Reaper that controlled Saren explains:

‘My kind transcends your very understanding. We are each [Reaper capital ships] a nation – independent, free of all weakness. You cannot grasp the nature of our existence [..] We are legion. The time of our return is coming. Our numbers will darken the sky of every world. You cannot escape your doom’.

Thanks to Shepard, humanity does escape the Reaper threat, and along with other organics avoids the imminent calamity and future destruction by merging with the machines. Thanks to Shepard (his final sacrifice), where he is destroyed physically, but his code which has now merged with the AIs, is disseminated as a new blueprint through the mass relays spread across the galaxy to effectively rebuild life by altering the very fabric of reality!

Giving rise to a transformed (fully evolved) hybrid life across the galaxy. One that benefits from the vast intelligence and the stores of knowledge the Reapers have amassed over millions of years. With the man + machine merger taking place at a molecular level, effectively remaking the organism anew, whilst keeping its core identity and personality intact. Bringing with it the near-immortal powers granted by machine synthesis, negating the innate weaknesses of organic life like sickness, old age and possibly even death.

EDI, an AI consciousness that is implanted into a humanoid construct, and a playable character, voiced by the beautiful Tricia Helfer from Battlestar Galactica, in her powerful epilogue to the game comments on the future of life, organic and synthetic, following the merger:

‘I am alive. All of us, synthetic and organic have been changed. The war is over, and the Reapers are helping to rebuild. Where once they threatened us with extinction.. they now bring us the collective knowledge of the cultures that came before. As a galaxy we can now live the lives we have wished for… taking our first steps into a new and wonderful future where organics and synthetics can coexist peacefully.

With peace across the galaxy and with unlimited access to knowledge.. to recover the greatness that was lost.. and surpass it. We will reclaim our worlds.. and the stars. As the line between organic and synthetic disappears we may transcend mortality itself.. to reach a level of existence I cannot even imagine’.

The ‘synthesis’ option is the end of the Reaper threat, bringing to a close the conflict between organic life and machines by uniting the two into a new form of life that contains the best of both worlds. The vast knowledge, durability, and processing power of machines and the soul, the heart and mind of the living. This is made possible by the ultimate sacrifice of one man who through his death unites the machine world and the living one.

Commander John Shepard through his life and death has become more than a man. A living embodiment of the god-man. The one who enabled mankind’s journey to transcendence by unlocking the door to the dormant immanence by awakening the god within us all. By unleashing this potential humanity gains access to a power that will help it shape, and in time remake the world as it sees fit. To make the world in his image. For he (the newly evolved man) is not simply human, but a god within. Again Hegel:

‘[Man] cannot stand the idea of himself not being God, and therefore not being of infinite space and without limits’.

By overcoming the Reaper threat, and by assimilating its powers and capabilities, and reforging human life anew, mankind enters a higher (possibly the highest) stage in its evolution. To become a being with limitless capabilities and with few or no weaknesses. In a sense, man is reclaiming the long-lost Eden, albeit in a different way.

Science Fiction – The Gospel of the Modern Man

It is hard to find a better embodiment of the ideals of the ‘good life’ in the 21st century than Elon Musk. The billionaire founder and CEO of Telsa, SpaceX and X, has become something of an icon embodying the spirit of capitalism, free speech, and with elements of traditional masculinity thrown in (married a few times with a number of girlfriends). His financial success via the companies he has built, a believer in pro-national politics like strong borders, and efficient governments; and an outlier within the dominant scientific-technocratic class, by being in favor of human population growth.

Paradoxically, one of the things that make Musk appealing as a thinker, businessman and activist in his own right, is that his persona comes across as non-political or in some way anti-political. Being in favor of secure national borders is not exactly a nationalist position. It is a commonsensical one. And to place humanity’s hope in technological breakthroughs and productive gains that applied sciences, fueled by the free flow of information can bring forth can be viewed as fundamentally apolitical in nature. A point that is recognized by the Left.

An informative article on the Leftist Jacobin attempts to summarize Musk’s worldview as one which:

‘promotes cybernetics as the key to understanding the universe. Under this belief system, everything from markets to ecosystems appear as information processors operating based on feedback mechanisms. Like a thermostat, they respond to changing circumstances without conscious human control. Because the economy is a self-regulating system too complex for anyone to understand let alone steer, the Californian ideologists suggest, it should be insulated from democratic interference by a global legal order developed by neoliberal experts [..]

When Musk encounters traffic congestion, he doesn’t see it as a failure of urban planning or a problem following from under-investment in mass transit. Instead, he sees it as [a technological problem and] an opportunity to build a hyperloop. His solution to everything is an invention developed and marketed by rogue geniuses in the private sector. His faith in technofixes is so great that he imagines machines as potential overlords waiting to take over. There is more than a hint of Mike [a sentient supercomputer in the classic science fiction novel The Moon is a Harsh Mistress] in his fear of an impending robot apocalypse’ (18).

Whilst one might be tempted to (and justified in) dismissing Musk’s beliefs and works as a form of techno-utopianism. Nonetheless, the point remains that societal progress relies heavily on economic growth. Which in turn rests on the steady increase in productivity. And productivity, as students of business and economics would know rests on the quality and availability of human capital, technology and the right management.

Musk, with his faith apparently set in technical solutions as a way to solve key problems that afflict society, including the question of the future of humanity-as opposed to the destiny of the human soul-is doubling down on one variable (technology) that makes up the productivity equation.

Most human problems: social, physiological and relational invariably feature an economic/financial imperative. Thus addressing the technological variable can be seen as an entrepreneurial approach to addressing the very human problems that Christ confronted in his short ministry of miracle-working.

A point that is often overlooked by Christian evangelists and scholars is the dual character of Christ’s Redemptive mission. One that involved the healing, feeding, nurturing and upliftment of the body and the education, empowerment and forgiveness of the soul; one that would pave the way for Salvation and Earthly upliftment.

Whilst it is tempting to view Christ’s miracle-working and provisioning as ancillary to his main mission to save humanity from Sin, what is missed if one adopts such a simplistic view, are the worldly concerns that bedevils man: hunger, aliments, loneliness, and alienation-all of which can be categorized under the heading of poverty. That in a broader sense is also the manifestation of the power of Sin.

When Christ is challenged by the teachers of law when he forgave the sins of the paralytic, he responds with:

‘Which is easier: to say to this paralyzed man, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Get up, take your mat and walk’? But I want you to know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins’. So he said to the man, “I tell you, get up, take your mat and go home’. He got up, took his mat and walked out in full view of them all (Mark 2: 9 – 12).

Notice the connection. Christ here is basing his authority over the soul (forgive sins) via his power over the physical realm. The justification for Christ’s power and position as the Son of Man is his ability to affect the world around him and to change it for the better. A power that is long lost to the Christ tradition.

Leaving aside the rare, random, and generally (but sadly) unreliable power of prayer to effect the impossible, and the claimed healing abilities of certain followers of Christ today; whose ability to manifest the power of God has never been subject to serious scientific scrutiny. And is a key reason why people ‘trust in science’ as opposed to divine power.

The same can also be said about societal problems. If society is going down the wrong path it requires political action, better policy making, more efficient and effective institutions and a steady rise in productivity in the real economy contributing to job creation, and quality of life improvements; complemented by welfare programs to safeguard those who are unable to reap the just rewards of economic growth. Praying to God, or waiting for Kingdom come as a way of solving real, existential problems is not viable.

In the epigraph where I stated that ‘The Bible is a collection of fairy tales for adults’, what I meant was that to believe in the system of thinking that characterized the biblical world, in the Old Testament and in the New are longer applicable to those operating in modern, post-industrial, technological societies where logic and reason pervade.

If one recalls the popular fairy tales we grew up listening to or reading as children, there is always a get out of jail card, some magical solution, an unknown helper (or knight in shining armor), a positive twist in the tale, a series of fortunate events that shifts the course of events in favor of the hero or princess. This world does not correspond to our own, but it does to some extent with the world that is presented in scripture. Where praying to God, asking God, relying on God’s strength as opposed to our own, by way of logic, reason and human action leads to good, positive, desirable outcomes.

The trouble with this line of faith-based or hope-based thinking is that it is not congruent with the positivistic nature of the world. The primacy placed on observable facts and events, and the relationships between them is the basis of human action and the institutions it gives rise to in the modern world. The miraculous and fortuitous events that befall the believer of old, whilst potentially true, their utility in present times is questionable owing to their inherent unreliability, and characteristically illogical nature.

For example, a person dying of cancer requires the best medical care, and expert advice on diet and lifestyle to manage the condition. Praying to God for healing, whilst potentially efficacious, is not reliable as the desired outcome is not reproducible on demand. Hence it is discounted.

So when it comes to miracle working, whilst the faithful can continue to believe in the guiding, protecting, healing hand of a higher power, the fact that this power cannot be subject to sensory evidence, and falls within the realm of the supernatural (i.e. purely speculative), in practice becomes a problem if people start ordering their lives in accordance to this essentially unknowable spirit realm whose workings are functionally anecdotal from the standpoint of modernity.

Returning to Elon Musk, if one is to speak of the man, the myth, and the legend what stands out today, and most likely would for posterity, is his grounded, realistic, and in a sense, positivistic outlook on life. That human problems of whatever shape or form, at a fundamental level require technical remedies that have real-world applications and stand to benefit humanity as a collective when made widely available.

For example when Musk took over Twitter intending to reform the organization to return it to profitability; and also to reposition the organization as a pro-free speech platform, he was acting idealistically. Despite knowing the costs that such a position would likely incur with respect to advertisers and parts of the wider public that will not warm to such a decision.

If Musk was only concerned about his personal welfare, profitability would suffice. However, Musk views the benefits of a connected, open forum where news and ideas can flow freely (within limits) as paramount to the advancement of humanity. There is a reason why Musk described the social networking platform, now called ‘X’: ‘as a collective, cybernetic super-intelligence’ (19). The benefits of such a collective cybernetic super-intelligence (at least the beginnings of one) Musk deems too valuable to the future of humanity to be policed and curtailed by ideologues.

When one combines Musk’s concern for the freedom of information, truth and the interconnectivity of humans with his growing calls for addressing the human population problem, it exemplifies Musk’s innate humanism. The decline in human population is not likely to be a pressing concern for someone who is only concerned about himself, his immediate family, circle of friends or tribe.

Musk’s fears regarding the future collapse of humanity at a demographic level shows that his primary allegiance is to humanity. His worldview is one where, after his time on this Earth is complete, he wants to leave it a better place for posterity. As opposed to someone who is only concerned about the ‘spiritual’ well-being of a person or group. Where the reward for the individual but not (necessarily) the group, lies beyond the veil.

If one is to make a side-by-side comparison between Musk and Jesus, the multi-billionaire is a far more appealing prospect to the question of who would like to be as a man. Whilst the central figure of the Christian faith is the Son of Man, from the standpoint of relatability Musk is simply a better human. And is the more realistic example to follow.

The Battle of Role Models

Musk

Christ

Rich

Poor

Good with Women

Celibate

Father

Bachelor

Provides Technical Solutions

Provides Miraculous Solutions

Globally Recognized/Respected

Rejected by the Powers that Be

Upholds Earthly/Material Upliftment

Teaches Heavenly Reward/Punishment

Concerned about Humanity’s Collective Welfare

Concerned about the Ultimate Fate of the Soul

The modern world demands that men learn, improve, work, rise up and excel at whatever craft they choose to do. And by constantly working, earning, investing and growing we become a better (or in time – the best) version of ourselves. The idealism of Hegel’s man-God is captured in the capitalist ethos that demands the best from each person. Now it is here the personhood of Jesus Christ becomes significant, as opposed to his teachings, in relation to his divine mission to mend the break between God and man.

Much has been made of the significance of who Jesus is as a man (i.e. a great role model). This is due to the purely Christological character of evangelization today. One that has degenerated into a cult-like following of Jesus. To preach the Good News has essentially regressed to a PR campaign telling people how ‘great’ or ‘good’ Jesus Christ is, and why people must follow him and his example, and essentially choose to live the way he did. All of this is good and fine except that when people start looking at this matter more critically, problems begin to emerge. Many of which I have already engaged in this essay.

The most problematic one being is that Christ sets the wrong example. Yes, you heard me. To follow the example of Christ is wrong simply because he is not a real person in the way you and I are. And unlike any human in history. His abilities and character are not comparable to ordinary human beings. Even the exemplary minds of today like Musk are left to find solutions to life problems through ability, application, sheer grit, talent and luck. However, if one is to follow the example of Christ, one is left to do so minus the powers and abilities that were at his disposal: to heal, to feed and provide for the many. And to rely on faith alone as a way to solve human problems. Which is…. Well, you be the judge of that.

The problem with Christianity is that the Church today (i.e. its institution), of whatever denomination, is stuck in some sort of limbo where it believes in an almighty God who can do anything but is unable or unwilling to do so in a consistent manner. A God whose (good) works are impossible to discern, and the positive effects of his actions will only become visible in an unknown future.

This state of affairs is exacerbated by those who claim to carry out Christ’s missionary work. Those involved in ministry who are unable to showcase the power of Christ in a meaningful way. This means the followers of Christ, notably those who subscribe to a scriptural understanding of the Christian message, are left to draw hope and inspiration from holy writ, whose message and meaning have lost their pertinence and power because the world it represents no longer exists today. Leaving aside the fact that Christ as a real, physical person has ascended into heaven and his followers today do not come close to manifesting his power,

The Bible presents a pre-scientific, pre-industrial, pre-technological and in some ways a pre-philosophical world. One that has been replaced by the real world that embodies the very opposite of this. The world seeks new sources of inspiration, new avenues for growth and new methods for finding healing, comfort, and liberation. And the new ‘spiritual’ source is not scripture it is science fiction. One that one hopes to someday become science fact.

End.

References

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