If you were here for my first sermon, you know that I was brought up in a fundamentalist Christian religion until my late teens.  My religious upbringing was a little different from others attending the church of my youth, however, because of my Dad.  His formal education was in electrical engineering, but when I was growing up he worked as a seismologist.  So, through him, I was exposed to the mind of a scientist with a fairly varied background from a very early age.  This way of thinking was not exactly compatible with the “one-way” theology I was being presented.  Oh, and he was also a science fiction fan, specifically Star Trek.

He wasn’t a “Trekkie” in the sense that you'd find him at a convention with a thousand other rabid fans in a Starfleet costume with prosthetic ears, he'd have thought that was just insane.  But, he was a fan, and he shared his love of science fiction with me.  My Dad was personally enamored with Mr. Spock, the alien crewmember from the planet Vulcan who did his best to stifle his emotions and exist purely within the realms of logic.  It made for a very weird upbringing for me, but I'll keep most of that between my therapist and me.  ;-)  I will also point out that I was raised on RERUNS of the show, since the original run completed before I was born.  :-)

Some months ago, I was involved in a discussion with the Harried Reasoners group, our Adult Enrichment group that examines human solutions to human issues.  The topic presented was “This I Believe” and I found it to be an incredible experience.  I thought and thought about how I could sum up what it is that I believe, and when it came to my turn to speak, I was amazed to find that the best way I could relate my spiritual beliefs was in the terms of Science Fiction.  The discussion moved me to later think about why that was.  After all, my spiritual path has had a lot of twists and turns, but I never put “Jedi” down on a Census questionnaire.  What was it about the concepts in all the Sci-Fi books and movies that had made such an impact on what I believe, and maybe more importantly, an impact on how I communicate what I believe?

We, as humans, have been telling each other stories for a very long time, almost like it is hard-wired into our very beings.  We tell stories to make sense of our world, to share our experiences, and to pass along our morals and community standards.  We tell stories to try and explain the things we can't figure out with our current understanding of the world around us.  We tell stories to entertain ourselves, and each other.  Some of our stories do all of these things.  Many stories have hung around, getting recycled through the ages.  The themes of these stories have become recognizable to people who study such things.

Unitarian Universalists have a unique challenge when it comes to stories.  We tend to be well read, educated people who embrace science and logic.  The stories of our past, whether presented in the form of myths from the Greek or Roman pantheon, stories of aboriginal peoples, or stories of the Bible, don't tend to pass the logic test and so they get tossed out as silly.  Take the New Testament story of the feeding of five thousand people with a bunch of loaves and two fishes.  Logic says that the story cannot be factual and therefore, not true.  It is impossible to feed several thousand people with such a small amount of food.  So, if you cannot accept that a “miracle” happened, you can spin yourself into knots trying to come up with a plausible explanation for the “miracle” (and many have) or just dismiss the story as not “true” and classify all those that believe in the story as ignorant or stupid.  In doing so, it is my belief that one loses the meaning of the story by being so distracted by trying to determine if the story is factual or not.  If we, as a community of people, do this, our community can easily lose the values and lessons that stories like this have to give us.

Science Fiction stories, by their very nature, are not “true” because they're set in the future.  They are “what ifs”, projections of what a writer thinks the universe or cosmos could be, or should be.  My favorites are those that predict humanity’s continually improvement while we move along in our quest to achieve our full potential.  It's my inner optimist peeking out.  So one of the values I see in Science Fiction stories is that we really can’t get caught up in trying to determine if the story is “true” or not.  We are free to absorb the deeper meaning of the story, even if we didn't realize there was one.  I think this is why Science Fiction can be a powerful medium for archetypal messages, and why some of these stories have resonated so strongly in our modern culture.  As a faith, Unitarian Universalism is open to new revelations of truth, so why not the medium of science fiction?  In fact, the more I worked on this sermon, the more I realized that the values I absorbed from Science Fiction books, TV shows and movies, in many ways, prepared me for my current involvement in Unitarian Universalism.

Even the futuristic technology presented in my favorite Science Fiction stories can offer up a little spiritual insight.  The Star Trek universe had a particular kind of technology that has proved useful in my spiritual travels – the Universal Translator.  This technology has been explained as a device that understands the meaning behind words being spoken in any language and then translating it into the language of the person using it.  Which is, of course, English for the viewers here in the United States.  So a Klingon says “nuqneH“ and the human hears “what do you want?” which is, incidentally, the only greeting in Klingon.  You're probably wondering what application this has in spirituality.  I went through a period of time where I rejected outright the Christian concept of God.  It pained me to hear the word, and as a result, I was unable to hear any deeper meaning in any message being offered to me if that word was use.  I realized that I was missing a lot of really good stuff because of my issue with the word “God”.  A teacher I had at the time suggested that I transform the word into something else whenever I heard it... for example, Love.  I could conceive of, and could embrace, the concept of a Universal force of Love.  So I reached back to my Science Fiction days and grabbed the analogy of the Universal Translator and programmed it for my worldview.  Pretty soon I found that I could sit in the most fundamentalist Christian service and get something positive out of it, because I didn't hear the word “God” anymore, I heard “Love”.  “Prayer” became “introspection” or “meditation.”  And “faith”, by using my new translator, didn't imply “blind acceptance”... it just meant to “trust” and it could even mean to “trust myself.” 

I believe that in a Unitarian Universalist environment, where we use so many different theological words and phrases, the development and use of a “personal translator” can be the single most useful skill we can have at our disposal.  The caveat is that, unlike Star Trek, we have to do the work to put the translations in place.  So, for example, with our UU Universal Translators fully functioning, the more humanist minded among us can be “in community” instead of “ in worship”.  The more mystically minded among us can hear “prayer” when others say “meditate”.  And those who enjoy a more close relationship with deity can hear their personal God Names when others speak of “spark of inspiration” or “human potential”.  None of us is forced to be something we’re not or gets lost in the meanings of these words.  We can continue speaking our own language and, as long as others are willing to do the work to develop their own translators, not get stuck over words we may not necessarily be comfortable with.  After all, someone without a functioning translator could interpret nuqneH as “howdy”, not knowing that Klingons are testy and have no interest in social graces, possibly sparking an interstellar incident.

Now, before you start thinking that I only watched one show in all the time I was growing up, I will tell you that I was 8 when Star Wars IV: A New Hope was released.  I don't remember standing in the lines that wrapped around the theatres, but I do remember seeing it, and the two other Star Wars movies that followed, on the big screen with my Dad.  This was one of those experiences that stayed with me for a lifetime.  The movies introduced a whole new generation to some of the timeless themes told by ancient people that we are still analyzing for deeper meaning.  Luke Skywalker takes on the dark forces of the Galactic Empire in what Joseph Campbell and others outlines as “The Hero's Journey.”  In order to do this, he must master “The Force” and take his place as a true Jedi Knight.  The Force is described as “an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us and penetrates us. It binds the galaxy together.”  It has a light side and a dark side and gives the Jedi and the Lords of the Sith their power.  The concept of The Force is an ancient one, variously attributed to Taoism and Buddhism.  But in 1977, most of the Western world, myself included, had never heard of this kind of philosophy.  It rang true to me.  Not the mind control and telekinesis, mind you, but the thought that we are all connected at a basic level and that this Force is all around us and through us, because it is us, as well as all other living beings. 

In the original Star Wars trilogy, the main thrust of the story was that the good side of the Force had to overcome the dark side of the Force.  Luke had to overcome his fear and defeat the Emperor and save his father's soul.  I think that the prequel trilogy that has recently come out, however, gives more information to the true battle being waged across all six movies, that being one of balance.  The Jedi teach that in order to master the Force and stay with the light side, one must put away all attachments to this physical existence.  No friendships, no love, no hate, just give oneself over to the Force without any baggage of strong emotions.  The attraction of the Dark Side as practiced by the Sith is that the strong emotions of fear, anger and hate – and one would presume of love – give power and the Sith are encouraged to experience these things.  Luke walks away from his training with the Jedi Master Yoda because of his attachment to his friends and thus does not initially complete his training as a Jedi Knight.  Yet it is this attachment and the love that he feels that ultimately saves his father.  Luke learns that it is not through denying emotion and attachment nor is it through embracing it without restraint that one achieves true understanding of The Force and defeats evil. It is through accepting all aspects of oneself and finding the balance between light and dark that one becomes a true Master.

This concept that we, as humans, are not perfect but we have something spectacular within us, is a common theme in Science Fiction.  The drive to explore, to learn, and to grow is frequently shown as humanity's best quality.  We don't always get it right, but I believe we're generally headed in the right direction.  Gene Rodenberry, the creator of Star Trek, was determinedly a Humanist and it is clear in the philosophy of his characters that he saw the enlightenment of Humanity as the direction we were all headed in.  The concept that people are capable of so much is repeated in too many episodes of Star Trek to list here today, but is stated outright by Captain Kirk in the movie Star Trek V: The Final Frontier when after defeating a malevolent entity masquerading as God, he says “Maybe God is not out there, but is in the human heart.”

As further testament to the influence of this source, my Science Fiction experiences taught me a lot about social justice.  The fantasy worlds created in print and on screen were used quite deliberately by writers as an avenue for social commentary, and they could often make statements that were too outrageous for “reality” mediums of the time.  The worlds I experienced on the screen and page were ones in which race and gender were irrelevant to what someone could accomplish in life, in stark contrast to the reality outside my home.  Star Trek’s Starship Enterprise had among its deck officers a Russian, an Asian, a Scotsman, an alien from another world, and probably most shocking for the time, a woman   But not just any woman, a woman of color.  Nichelle Nichols, Lt. Uhura on the show, tells a story that after the first season of Star Trek was completed, she had decided to quit the cast and go back to theater.  She attended an NAACP meeting shortly after that where she was introduced to one of her biggest fans, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.  He told her that Star Trek was one of the only shows that he would let their children watch.  When she told him that she was thinking of leaving the show he told her that she couldn’t do that.  She was the first person of color to be presented on TV in a non-stereotypical manner AND she was in a position of authority.  He told her she was changing the face of television.  Needless to say, she changed her mind and stayed on until the series ended. 

The personnel choices on the bridge weren’t the only statement about race Mr. Rodenberry made.  An episode that had a profound impact on me, had two “races” of aliens from the same planet fighting each other to what we would discover was extinction, because although both had one side of their faces that was white and one side black, one “race” was white on the right side while the other was black on the right side.  There from my television set, was a more profound statement about the idiocy of racism than anything that could be said from news broadcasts or political commentary.  Poverty was also eliminated in this world of the future, though Mr. Rodenberry never gave away the secrets of how they managed that feat.  People were free to pursue careers and interests according to their gifts and desires, and education was available to anyone who wanted it and could do the work.  Oh, and universal medical care for all was finally a reality.  What a wonderful universe he created.

Science Fiction can get a little mystical, too.  In the series Babylon 5 by J Michael Straczynski, as I quoted during the meditation earlier, Delenn, the ambassador from the planet Minbar and formerly one of the leaders of the religious caste, tells Captain John Sheridan, “We are made of star stuff.”  Now, in case that phrase sounds familiar and you aren't a Babylon 5 fan, I have a sneaking suspicion that Mr. Straczynski lifted it from the late Dr. Carl Sagan who used the phrase when describing how we evolved from the bits of matter that came out of the Big Bang.  I hadn't heard the phrase from Dr. Sagan before I heard it from Delenn, so in my mind, her voice will always be the one who says it.  I somehow don't think Dr. Sagan would mind.  But just think about that... I am made of the same “stuff” that stars are!  You are made of star stuff too, as is the building we're sitting in, the trees outside, the birds in the sky... everything we see and touch and hear is all built from the same star matter that we are.  What a wondrous thing!  Now, I'm not enough of a theologist to say if this concept is a Humanist one, or a Taoist one, or Buddhist, or Christian, or Pagan, or any other sort of classification.  But I know that it gives me a sense of connection to everyone in this room, everyone out there in the world, to the planets, to the Sun and Moon, to the stars and galaxies themselves.  It's all part of the same thing, an interconnected web of all existence.  That sense of transcendence, that which moves us beyond the bounds of our physicality, is what I believe that religion or spirituality is supposed to do for us in our lives.

And if I've learned nothing else from all the books, movies and television shows, it's that there is always something more that lies beyond our understanding.  There will always something that we can't explain with the current models we use to order the universe.  There are some questions the collection of facts we have at our disposal just can’t answer.  Our pursuit of those answers is part of what makes us human, and it's the knowledge that we can't answer those questions today that should keep us a little humble.  We don't know what tomorrow may bring; we can't know what questions the answers of today will generate.  We must keep searching…to go where no one has gone before.

So what does all this mean?  What do I believe? 

I believe that we are all made of star stuff.  I believe there is an energy force that binds us all together and that some people perceive and interact with this force in the form of a personified deity or deities.  I believe that we have, collectively and individually, the capacity to reach beyond any current imaginings and the capacity to completely destroy ourselves.  I believe we must find a balance in order to find the best in ourselves and reach the highest potential as a species and as one among many species.  I believe that we all have the responsibility to treat each other with dignity and respect and to use our Universal Translators to break down barriers of language and understanding.  I believe that we should all strive to make our world a better place because it is in this world where Paradise lies.  This is what I believe.

So when I am asked what I believe, a lot of my responses come from the realms of science fiction.  I know the stories upon which I base my spiritual concepts and then relate those concepts to others aren't factual.  For me they don’t have to be and I’m ok with that.

May the Force be with all of us!