The Gospel according to Star Trek
Growing up as a Trekkie, I did not just watch these stories. I lived them. Like so many of us who found a moral north star in Captain Jean-Luc Picard, I spent my childhood imagining myself on the bridge of a starship. I would adjust my uniform with the Picard maneuver and dream of a future where humanity finally got it right.
As I grew older and my roots in the Christian faith deepened into Church leadership, I realized that the fleet and the Gospel have been in a long conversation all along. This is true for the world of the Reformed rite in which I serve and the beautiful ways of our Catholic cousins.
The mission of the Enterprise is not just about exploring strange new worlds. For those of us who follow the Way, it is a clear echo of our own call to understand the Creator and our place in the universe.
In the Reformed rite, or in my context in the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), we talk a lot about how humanity is fallen. While these stories are often seen as a perfect world without religion, they never shy away from the reality of human brokenness.
Look at the Borg.
They represent a terrifying state where a person's own will is completely swallowed by the group.
When Picard was taken and became Locutus, he experienced a fall that he could not save himself from. His fix was not just a technical one. It was a journey of redemption that required the help of a community.
For Christians, the trauma Picard faced and his eventual healing remind us that while we can wander far away, no one is too far for grace to reach. Even in the 24th century, the soul needs a rescue from the things that try to take away our humanity.
For Catholics, Episcopalians, Lutherans, Methodists, and those of us in the PC(USA), the concept of the Sacrament is central to how we experience God. We see this played out in the quiet moments of friendship on the ship.
Think of Ten Forward or the mess hall.
These are not just places to eat. They are spaces where the Body of Christ is shown through the sharing of food and stories. When the crew gathers after nearly dying, there is a clear way they connect with each other. It is a reminder that our faith is not a solo mission. Whether it is Picard sharing a tea with Guinan or Riker cooking for the bridge crew, these moments point to a deeper truth.
We are sustained by the Sacraments of being together and serving one another. The starship works like the Church where every member has a specific, God-given role to play.
We often struggle with how to live out our faith in a world with many different beliefs. The Prime Directive is the highest law of the fleet. It says we cannot interfere with others, and it offers a surprising lesson in humble care.
For Christians, the Prime Directive mirrors the command to care for the world without trying to run it. It teaches us to respect the image of God in everyone we meet, no matter how different they may seem.
Picard’s firm commitment to his principles mirrors the Reformed belief in the importance of God’s moral law. It suggests that our message is most powerful when we act with honesty and humility. We must protect the weak without forcing them to become just like us.
And yes, this includes LGBTQ persons.
From the sacrifice of Spock to the rebirth of Picard, these stories are deeply interested in how the spirit lasts. They wrestle with the idea that there is something about us that goes beyond the physical body. For a person of faith, these stories are a bridge to understanding the resurrection. They remind us that death is not the final stop. Instead, it is a move into a new way of being.
As I look back at the captain who defined my youth, I see more than an officer. I see a man pursuing truth, justice, and the healing of a broken galaxy. For those of us walking our own path of faith, these adventures serve as a beautiful commentary on the Gospel. They challenge us to go out into the world with the belief that light will always overcome the darkness of the void.
I might not have received that red uniform of a Star Fleet officer that I dreamed of obtaining. But I certainly can use these lessons as a Ruling Elder, as Elder Commissioner in Presbytery of Chicago, as Commissioner of the General Assembly.
Of course, it is much easier to find these deep truths in a universe that actually values the human soul and intellect. You certainly won’t find this kind of Gospel worth in Star Wars.
