Battlestar Galactica Miniseries

In the three-hour opening of the re-imagining to this series we meet a wide variety of characters. An old Commander on the verge of retirement whose usefulness seems to be at an end since the threat of war is a distant memory, a Secretary of Education dying of cancer that finds herself becoming the President when all those above her are annihilated, a hotshot pilot with an authority problem, an alcoholic Executive Officer, a treacherous scientist who is partially to blame for the attack that destroyed most of humanity, the Commander’s son (also a hotshot pilot), and about a dozen others.

When humanity is attacked, it is completely taken by surprise, and before anyone knows what is happening most of the major cities have already been decimated by the enemy’s nuclear arsenal.

The crew of the Galactica doesn’t believe what’s happening, and they scramble to get into the fight. They’re extremely unprepared: they don’t even have artillery. This isn’t surprising. The ship is so outdated that the beginning of the episode was its de-commissioning. It was about to become a museum. Galactica heads to the nearest cache to gather supplies while the new President does her best to gather survivors. Hard calls are made, lives are lost, and complete decimation is narrowly avoided at every turn. Near the final act of the episode we find our two leaders debating about whether the Galactica should make a valiant last stand against the Cylons (the Commander’s opinion) or make an escape with the civilian ships (the President’s opinion). “The war is over,” she tells the Commander. He is still operating under the assumption that they can fight back.

I’m a part of the protestant tradition, which holds to the idea that there is no singular human leader who is in charge of the church on this earth. There are many benefits to this model, but one of the problems is that there are constant fights about who is in charge. This gets especially complicated in the issue of the Church’s place in today’s Western culture. Different voices say, “Fight against culture,” others say, “Hide from it,” still some say, “Dialogue with it,” and even a few insist that we should surrender to it. What voice should we listen to?

In the end, the Commander decides to help the civilians escape and live to fight another day. Survival, he reluctantly agrees, takes precedence. I wonder what it will take for the church to agree what should be done in our current situation? Does something truly shocking have to happen so that we even recognize that such decisions have to be made? What do we do when our comfort and security are ripped out from under us? Have our churches become museums? Can they get back into the fight or do we think they’re too outdated?

As the crew regroups, licking their wounds and burying their dead, Commander Adama gives a speech to his troops. He tells them that he knows the secret location of Earth – a legendary planet that their ancestors supposedly discovered long ago. This renews the hope of the survivors and sets them on the path towards their new goal. Later, in private, the President cuts through Adama’s claims of secret knowledge and calls his bluff. He admits that Earth is just a legend but that people need something to live for. I agree with Adama’s assessment even if his methods are questionable (and turn out to be unnecessary since Earth is not as mythic as he assumes). I believe that the church must have a focus on the idea of New Creation if it is to survive the challenges that await it in the near future. We must be a people who don’t seek comfort in the world around us, because we know that there is none to be found, but instead we find comfort in the world to come while doing everything we can to live as people who belong there.