A Lesson for America from Star Trek

If a 1968 episode of Star Trek contains a lesson for today’s USA, is that lesson from the future, or from the past? I’ll summarize; you can decide!

In the episode “Day of the Dove,” Klingons capture Captain Kirk and his landing party. Irate, the Klingon captain, Kang, accuses Kirk of firing at his ship—which Kirk never did. Now Kang wants Kirk’s ship. Unexpectedly, Ensign Chekhov shouts at the Klingons, accusing them of murdering his brother. The Klingons place an “agonizer” device on Chekhov’s face. To stop the torture, Kirk agrees to surrender and to beam the Klingons up with the humans. However, when he calls the ship to transport up both groups, he includes a secret signal. First Officer Spock understands: he beams up the humans, followed by the Klingons. Security captures the Klingons. Meanwhile, a glowing creature from the planet enters the U.S.S Enterprise undetected. 

Still with me?

The plot thickens…

Aboard ship but invisible, the mystery creature seals most of the Enterprise crew below decks. It also locks the ship’s engine into full speed toward the edge of the galaxy. Then, when the entity changes all modern weapons into antique swords, both humans and Klingons seize the blades. Panicked and furious, humans and Klingons begin battling each other. 

Luckily, good ol’ Mr. Spock is immune to the hatred raging through the two crews. He detects the presence of the alien and realizes it has artificially created the whole battle. The unseen enemy somehow feeds off the rage of both races. When Lt. Sulu informs Kirk that Chekhov never even had a brother, Kirk realizes the creature can even plant false memories in their brains to provoke more intense violence. The mysterious entity has turned them all into its pawns.

Unable to get his crewmen to stop fighting as long as the Klingons press the attack, Kirk tries to convince Kang of their true predicament. But Kang doesn’t believe it. Instead, he attacks. Eventually, though, with the now-glowing entity hovering above the two captains and feeding off their violence, Kirk convinces Kang that their real threat isn’t each other—it’s the alien who’s manipulating their minds to combat. 

When each side stops fighting and joins in laughing at the creature, the entity finally exits the ship. 

Pulling back the curtain

In recent months, tempers in the U.S. have been riding high. Covid-19 had already created nationwide frustration due home quarantine, job losses, business failures, mandatory masks, widespread confusion, fears, and a list of infringements. The powder keg was already set to explode when a police officer’s unwarranted actions resulted in an unnecessary death. Boom

Suddenly, a nation that had been in peace erupted. Some people (not all) reacted violently. The delighted media began feeding us a constant stream of insults, accusations, vandalism, looting, assaults, robbery, arson, destruction of property… The stories act like gasoline being poured on the flames of indignation. Before long, even mild-mannered citizens felt like hurting somebody.

Meanwhile, like on Star Trek, the real enemy has been invisibly hovering among us, feeding off this explosion of human violence and probably laughing his head off. In the Gospel of John (chapter 8, verse 44), Jesus called Satan a murderer from the beginning and the father of lies. Is it any wonder that Satan, our invisible foe, manipulates people and situations to spread resentment, false information, division, lawlessness, and anarchy? No doubt, the Devil would love to see Americans at each other’s throats. It’s the old military strategy, “Divide and conquer.”

What? Isn’t Satan a myth? Not at all. The same Bible that teaches us God exists teaches Satan exists, too. But he’s clever. He stays out of sight and encourages us to believe he’s not real. You can’t fight an enemy you don’t think exists. But God’s Word emphasizes he’s dangerous: “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8). When you ignore him, he wins.

Resisting

The first step to stopping the tide of violence is to realize (as Kirk did) that our neighbors are not our true enemy. When one person—or even hundreds of people—of a particular skin color, or with a particular job, or from a particular nationality, commits a lawless act, that doesn’t mean every person of that color, job, or nationality is evil. The moment you single out any group of citizens and say, “All _______ are bad,” you’re wrong. That kind of thinking is polluted, devilish. 

Friend, there are definitely people who commit outrageous actions. (Some people make inflammatory comments or commit violence specifically to spark violent reactions. For them, it’s like a sport.) However, if our society is going to make progress, we mustn’t fall into the trap of hating whole segments of it based on the actions of a misguided few. We can borrow a page from Mr. Spock’s playbook: We can observe. We can realize we’re being played. And we can reject the temptation to hate our neighbors. 

Does that mean we condone criminal behavior? No. We can’t, because “every city or house divided against itself shall not stand” (–Jesus, Matthew 12:25). But neither should we let ourselves be suckered into race-baiting or engineered animosity. The transgressions of the few can be lawfully addressed without us hating everybody who looks like them or talks like them. (Yes, I realize I’m omitting all kinds of politics. That’s intentional.)

None of us can force others how to think or behave. But if you’re a fan of life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness, and a harmonious society, I invite you to make a personal decision: refuse to hate. Don’t let yourself be provoked by those trying to stir up your hatred. True, we need to defend ourselves from violence and outlaws. But even then, we need not hate a whole people group based on the rhetoric or criminal behavior of individuals.

If everyone lived that way, maybe America really could live long and prosper.

My Grandfather’s Letter

I never knew my father’s father, Theodore L. Barry. He died 5 years before I was born. But a few years back, a distant relative sent me a letter my grandfather penned in 1948. In it, Grandpa Theodore summarized much of his life for a niece. In this letter, I finally “met” my grandfather. I also learned that he nearly committed an act that would’ve prevented me from being born. 

As a young man in southern Indiana, Theodore met and fell in love with a young lady. He writes, “I was in love with Viola [—-], one of the sweetest girls in 100 miles of New Salisbury. I was sure in love with her. Finally we were married. We had two boys, Russell Barry and Ralph D. Barry and Jessie B. and Marie B. I was in love with my children and my wife. She was a dream.”

However, the dream shattered. While Theodore was working on a streetcar in Louisville, his wife was evidently seeing another man. “Then before I knew anything of what was going on, my wife took my 4 children to her folks and she went back in town.” The next time he saw her, she was with her new guy, a large man with a “sandy” complexion. She wouldn’t let Theodore see his own children. 

Theodore felt betrayed, stabbed in the back and kicked to the wayside. When at last his anger and bitterness overflowed, he decided to take revenge: “I stepped on the streetcar and my intention was to kill both.”

However, before he reached his destination, Theodore changed his mind. Regardless of how justified his anger at the other man and his heartbreak over his wife’s betrayal, he couldn’t do it. Perhaps his love for Viola stayed his hand. He simply couldn’t commit such an act. 

“I was heartbroken. I mourned for my children, but I kept my job and stayed in Louisville for quite a while.”

Yet, Louisville held too many painful reminders of the life he’d lost. So, Theodore received a letter of recommendation from Louisville Railway (the streetcar line) and relocated to Detroit, where he began a new life once again working on a streetcar. In time, Theodore met a woman name Violet Lechner, who worked in a store at the turnaround for the streetcar. Friendship grew into love, and Theodore and Violet married. He and his second wife had 6 children, and my father was the youngest of them. (I’m the youngest son of a youngest son of a youngest son.) Theodore eventually launched into successful business ventures, and he and Violet enjoyed many happy years together in Michigan.

Theodore L. Barry in his real estate office in Detroit.

But what if Theodore had acted on his furious impulse to end two lives? He wrote, “Had I shot both of them, I would not have been a free man today, so thank God.” Thank God, indeed. Venting his anger in gunshots would’ve destroyed others, plus the rest of his own life. But by letting go of his anger, by refusing to hate and moving on, he eventually regained peace and enjoyed many happy years as a successful businessman and family man. 

Eventually word reached grandpa that his first wife in southern Indiana had died, so he was at last able to reconnect with his first 4 children. He visited them in Indiana, and they visited him in Michigan. 

Of course, I’m personally glad my grandfather managed to release his anger and start over. If he’d gone to prison, my dad never would’ve been born. Me neither. 

Theodore Barry visiting southern Indiana on his 1909 Indian Motorcycle. (Note the Detroit banner.)

Anger, hatred, and rage are dangerous. If we allow them to sweep us up and we lash out with words or weapons, sure, we can hurt our targets—but we can also hurt ourselves and prevent many future blessings from happening. It’s a truth worth reflection.

A fool gives full vent to his spirit, but a wise man quietly holds it back.” Proverbs 29:11

“A hot-tempered man stirs up strife, but he who is slow to anger quiets contention.” Proverbs 15:18

“But now you must put them all away: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and obscene talk from your mouth.” Colossians 3:8

Theodore and Violet Barry with Grace, the first of their 6 children.