Battlestar Galactica and the Quest for Authentic Spirituality

As regular readers know, I’m a huge fan of the re-vamped Battlestar Galactica, which is currently airing on Sci-Fi.

At its heart, the new BSG is about faith and politics and - to some extent - the relationship between the two. Since the show is about a small remnant of humans on the run from an enemy that seeks to annihilate them, it provides the perfect backdrop for questions about what it means to be human, and how civilization and government serve (or even interfere with) our ability to function and survive. The stark survival scenario also forces the characters to confront their beliefs about spirituality and the nature of the universe.

Fans of the series know that it is in its last season, and we are now presumably less than 17 episodes away from the end, when the Galactica will inevitably find the reported home of its long lost brothers and sisters on Earth.

In episodes that are currently airing, the writers and producers are exploring a plotline relating to spirituality that I find incredibly fascinating, not only because it is intriguing in and of itself, but because of how accurately it reflects the tensions and struggles that are present in our own world.

At this point, there are three theologies at play in the story. To make this post readable for those who aren’t familiar with the minutiae of the BSG universe, I’ll keep things general.

The first theology is a classic polytheism. The followers of this religion believe that there are gods that are supposed to protect them. However, this religion seems very hollow, since the gods have (obviously) failed to provide much help at all in the face of annihilation. They seem empty and distant, and they are silent and powerless, if not non-existent.

The second theology is a form of monotheism that in some ways is similar to early Christian Gnosticism. It is a theology which says that God is love, and that a spark of the divine love is in all of us (Gnostics would probably say it only exists in a select few). We need only to accept ourselves as we really are (rather than live in guilt for what we are or what we’ve done) to embrace that love. This belief seems dangerous, because it is a denial of the dangers of human lust, violence, greed, etc.

The third theology really isn’t a theology at all. It is atheism. Those who embrace atheism either never believed in the gods or God, or they have come to a point of skepticism because of their experiences during the purging of humanity.

What is interesting to me is the way that the writers have carefully presented these options so that none of them are satisfying. They are all, so to speak “pseudo-spiritualities.” To the viewer, they feel inauthentic. Even atheism fails, because there is just enough of a “hint” of a transcendent spiritual force at work in the plot that it just doesn’t seem plausible.

Now, here is what fascinates me about the currently developing plot lines. I’m convinced that, at their heart, none of these theologies “work” because they aren’t ultimately redemptive in nature.

Polytheism relies on the gods for protection, but the gods are powerless to provide protection, particularly from things that humanity has brought on itself.

A monotheism that merely urges us to accept our flaws is dangerous because it leads to arrogance. We think we are perfect, but we are not. The results in the past have been just that ugly - humanity itself has nearly been destroyed because of an enemy that was convinced of their superiority.

Atheism, likewise, ultimately leads one to a point of despair. Can we hope in our own power to make things better? Retaliation and violence only result in more death and pain. Governments and judicial systems are weak and corrupt. Revolutionary subversion of the current order only leads to chaos, followed by a new “order” that is also weak and corrupt. Humanity, left to its own devices, seems powerless to avoid annihilation.

Whether the story will go this route or not, I don’t know, but what this story is begging for is the emergence of an authentic spirituality - one which, when embraced begins to move things along a redemptive path.

As is the case with most good writing (even on TV), I think the tension between the three theologies of BSG, and the portrayal of a need for a new, more authentic spirituality - mirrors our own world. People are disturbed, frightened even, by the seemingly certain and arrogant attitudes of fundamentalists (Christian, Islamic, or otherwise), yet they also find the more liberalized versions of the various faith to be hollow and irrelevant. Atheism, on the other hand, with its nihilistic view of the universe is equally uninviting. Like the characters in the universe of BSG, we long for the emergence of a spirituality that feels authentic within the context the universe that we inhabit; one which gives us hope that there is a redemptive path out of the mess that we’ve created for ourselves. Yet a spirituality of that nature seems elusive.

In the end, I am certain that one of two things will happen in BSG: either the characters will discover that there is no hope for humanity, or they will discover hope that things can be different - that we can be different. I’m waiting on the edge of my seat, because I want to to see whether a redemptive element, possibly even a redemptive spirituality, will find its way into the plot. And…most interestingly, if that discovery comes - we can expect it to happen at about the same time the world of BSG collides with our own.

Its going to be a great ride.

iGod

Just when you thought instant messaging was getting boring, along comes this.

Musical Bonding

My job as a parent isn’t complete until my kids know all about pop culture from my formative years. To that end, I gave Lexi a quick tour of some eighties music while we were driving around today.

Today’s songs:

• Love Shack (B-52s)
• Walk Like an Egyptian (Bangles) (No joke: in 1986, Sheila was regularly told that looked just like Susan Hoffs)
• Addicted to Love (Robert Palmer)

We are far from done.

Children of the 80s: what else should be added to my playlist of essentials?

Papal Critique

Pope Benedict XVI recently said this to a group of American bishops: “Any tendency to treat religion as a private matter must be resisted . . . To the extent that religion becomes a purely private affair, it loses its very soul.”

This strikes me as a critique of the American church for failing to speak up within the arena of American politics, particularly as US foreign policy is increasingly perceived as overly militaristic and arrogant. What do you think? Is “private” Christianity a soulless exercise? If so, what does “public” Christianity look like?

Double Uh-Oh Seven

James Bond Film Director: Okay. We’re ready to start filming the big car chase. Where is the Aston Martin?

Guy Who Was Supposed to Deliver It: Ummmm….

Liveblogging: Notes from Rohr’s Lecture

Rohr believes the central identity of the emerging church arises from its ability to bring together different traditions. He uses the phrase “spiritual globalization” to describe this idea. He also notes that there seems to be no central leadership or structure, and he attributes the growth of the movement (potentially, at least) to the work of the Holy Spirit.

He also views the emerging church as a reformational movement within existing structures, as opposed to an effort to create a new denomination or self-perpetuating institution. In that sense, the movement acts to identify denominational biases and to help us to “own” them and also separate our identity from them.

The essential elements of the emerging church: (1) honest Jesus scholarship (we allow Jesus to be Jewish, living in his own time, own culture, and we hear him on his own terms), (2) concern for social justice (as opposed to solely focusing on individual salvation), (3) the “contemplative eye” (consciousness of reality is transformed from an “either/or” phenomenon to a “both/and” phenomenon), and (4) a search for new vehicles to form disciples (but, he says, these new vehicles have yet to emerge).

On element 3, he makes a fascinating point: he says that Jesus was the first “non-dual” teacher in Western civilization, and that Christians have been trying to make him dualistc ever since. Emergent is trying to restore the perception of Jesus as a “non-dual” teacher. I wish he could have unpacked this more. I think it would have been very interesting.

[Post Script - having liveblogged this event, I feel like I have participated in an important rite of passage within the emerging movement. I wonder if Andrew Jones should send me a certificate of achievement or something. Maybe at least Jason Clark will comment...]

Liveblogging: "The Angels Stop to Listen"

I’m at Radford Auditorium at McMurry University where Rachel’s ballet company is rehearsing for a performance that will proceed tonight’s lecture on Emerging Worship by Fr. Richard Rohr.

The company is performing the lead piece from their tour program this year, which is based on Hosanna, a favorite track from Jason Morant’s album Open. The act of sharing this album with Anna Gillette, the company director, is about as close as I am ever going to come to choreographing a dance.

I’ve seen them do this piece about 3-4 times now, and it still moves me. There is something about the way Morant - and now the entire company - explore the humility/humanity of Jesus and yet still exalt him to the status of Lord over creation that gives me chill bumps.

There was a man;
Who smiled like the sunrise;
His face I can’t forget.
His love displayed is unlike any other.

He humbly dressed just like a vagabond;
With discourse like a King.
And when he spoke,
The angels stopped to listen.

Hosanna! [An interjection meaning roughly - Glory to God]
Filio David [Son of David]
Hosanna in Altisimus [Glory to God in the Highest]

 

Like I said: chill bumps.

Escape and Renewal

This morning during class, I talked about different ways of looking at God’s saving work. Two options were considered.

Option 1: Escape. God’s plan of salvation is to help us to “escape” from creation, which is destined to be destroyed. The end result is that we find bliss as spirits that exist apart from creation - in “heaven,” as most people would put it.

Option 2: Renewal. God’s plan of salvation is to renew his creation. As a critical part of this process, he must also renew humankind by freeing us from sin and death. The end result is that we are resurrected into a renewed world.

Option 1 presents a lot of problems for me:
1. If God’s creation is good, why would he want to destroy it? Did he suddenly decide just to give up on the project?
2. What is the point of all the things Jesus tells us to do which are designed to make this world better? If it is doomed anyway, why not just tell people about how to punch their ticket to a better place?
3. Rather than something that God conquers, death itself becomes the victory. Death represents the point in our existence where God saves us.
4. Resurrection has no meaning, and is not even desirable. Why would I want to be raised back into this world when God’s goal is to get me into heaven?

Option 2, on the other hand, is much more satisfying:
1. Creation is seen as worthwhile.
2. Investment in creation by doing right by our neighbors, clothing the naked, feeding the hungry, etc. makes sense. Creation isn’t going anywhere, and it is need of a makeover.
3. Death is conquered, not welcomed.
4. Resurrection is central to the victory over death.

The central Christian affirmation, Jedi Master Wright tells us, is that God intends to do for the entire cosmos what he first did in the resurrection of Jesus. In my mind, this is a vastly superior way of reading scripture.

April Reading

I’ve started working my way through The Evangelical Universalist, a book written under the pseudonym of Gregory MacDonald.

The author of this book advances the intriguing proposition that Christian universalism (the belief that all people will eventually be saved, though some will suffer temporarily in hell) is consistent with a relatively conservative reading of scripture, such as that which would be advanced by evangelicals.

As many of you know, I am what is sometimes termed a hopeful universalist. That is, I do not believe that scripture actually goes so far as to explicitly teach the concept of universal salvation. However, I do read the biblical witnesses to strongly hint at such a possibility. I also do not believe that the endorsement or teaching of universalsim is a heresy.

A concern that has always kept me from becoming a dogmatic univeralist (that is, someone who actually endorses and teaches it) has been that scripture does not speak to the question of whether God’s work of salvation continues after death. I Corinthians 15:29, which references the practice among early Christians of baptizing for the dead, comes awfully close for me. But it doesn’t actually endorse the practice, and I’m not comfortable basing a slightly unorthodox view of hell on a single, somewhat unusual verse.

Already, however, this book has me thinking. One of the early arguments that is advanced is this: if, in fact, scripture does not teach one way or the other as to whether God’s work of salvation continues after death, which view is more consistent with the overall picture that is painted in scripture?

The answer, the book argues, ought to be obvious: God’s universal love for all people, which - for the evangelical especially - drove him to offer his son on a cross, would surely not give up on a person simply because their physical body has submitted to death.

Hmmmm….

Limited/No Posting Until April 14

Starting on Friday, I’m planning on taking a little break from…well, several things. Including (unless I really feel like it) blogging. As such, I probably won’t be posting again until the week of April 14.