I grew up with the Star Trek series. When I was six years old and living with my family in Poland, three of my favorite and most-read books were the David C. Cook Picture Bible, C.S. Lewis’s The Chronicles of Narnia, and Stephen E. Whitfield’s The Making of Star Trek, which covered the first two seasons of the original TV show. (I wondered sometimes what Mister Spock, with his emphasis on logic, would make of Lewis’s logic-based arguments for the Resurrection, etc.)
I watched the show in re-runs and saw the first film in the theatre, with my dad, when I was nine years old. On the way home, my dad got me a Star Trek-themed Happy Meal at McDonald’s, and I believe I still have the box and the comic-strip communicator that came with it, somewhere in storage. I was in grade six when Spock died, grade nine when he came back to life, and grade twelve when Kirk & co. went back in time to save the whales. I was in my first (and only) year of Bible school when Star Trek: The Next Generation premiered in 1987 — there were lots of Star Trek fans there — and I was half-way through getting my bachelor’s degree at UBC when the cast of the original series filmed their last movie together in 1991.