“Ready for Harvest,” a Christian Youtube channel did a community poll regarding the following statement, “”It was necessary for Jesus to become man because without becoming man He could not overcome sin in the flesh and thereby gain victory over Satan.” I am not sure if this is a direct quote from somewhere— on a quick check I did not find it. Readers were encouraged to give their view on this statement. As of May 2, 2024, the poll stands at 62% Agree Strongly, 15% Agree more than disagree, 4% Disagree more than agree, 7% Disagree strongly, and 12% Not sure or just show the results. I ended up being in the smallest group, Disagree more than agree. This does not mean that I disagree with the fact of the Incarnation. It is because the key point of the statement is built around “Necessary”— and not just necessary by “Necessary for God.” In other words, to me the statement sounds as if it is saying, “God could not figure out any other way of gaining victory over Satan. I think that is highly presumptive. I would like to argue a major twist on the statement. The incarnation was not necessary for God, but was necessary for us. God saved us in and through an act of self-revealing and it was necessary then for God to be incarnated as Man. This three-part post is a long-winded argument on why I think that is. <As always, I am wrong every day, and may have a different view tomorrow. But it is not tomorrow— it is today, so let’s move forward.>

Science fiction writers have long been challenged in how to portray aliens— or more precisely, sentient physical beings from other places in the universe. The most common way of doing this to make the aliens humanoid. The aliens should look more like humans than other non-human living things. There are reasons for this. The plot of the story is likely to necessitate communication and other forms of interaction between humans and aliens. It is so much easier for the reader to imagine communicating with someone or something that looks like us. In fact, the use of the terms “someone” and “something” are important here. We are more likely to think of an alien as “someone” if (he/she/it/they) look like us. Additionally, for pulpy sci-fi, romantic interaction is especially problematic if the aliens don’t look rather pleasant and human-like. If we see an alien who looks like us in some sense it is easier to attach an awful lot of presumptions of humanness to the beings. These include intelligence, feelings, volition, and desire for social connectedness, and ambition.

There have been, however, attempts to explore alternatives. Can non-organic life exist? Do certain physical designs allow a path to sentience and society. I remember a sci-fi story that explored this one where a scientist in the story was convinced that a humanoid structure was almost necessary for alien society. A creature with wheels could not exist because how could the transfer of nutrients to the revolving body parts take place? A bird could not form societies because it has two legs for walking and two for flying. It has no easy appendages available for manipulation of objects. That sort of thing. I wish I could remember the name of the story and the author. However, the author of the story used the scientist as a bit of a strawman— suggesting that his beliefs were not based on good research and analysis, but presumption and bias.

Perhaps the biggest reason for sci-fi writers to use humanoid aliens, however, is that very commonly, writers use aliens to talk about ourselves. They can take on proxy roles— sometimes in a rather ham-handed way, but at times with great skill and nuance. To do this, we need the story to act as a mirror that looks back at ourselves. It is hard to do this when what we see in the mirror doesn’t remind us in some ways of ourselves.

Cinematographers have an added problem. Some have purposefully sought to have aliens that push the bounds of what an alien can look like. One of these is “The Thing”– a movie from 1982 but based on a 1938 novella by John W. Campbell Jr.named “Who Goes There”— has an alien that is a shape-shifter. It could look like different people, but its non-humanoid, perhaps “natural” state is more of a blob, more like a giant amoeba. It is interesting that much of the tension is more in the interaction of humans with the alien when it has taken on the form of another human. When the creature is outed and it is now in its writhing amoebic form, it is terrifying, but somewhat less so, because it is now fully revealed as non-human, othered, and able to be attacked and killed without remorse.

An added reason in cinema for having humanoid aliens was cost. Before CGI, one needed to use practical effects to show aliens. Supposedly, in the movie above (“The Thing”) around 10% of the budget was on the practical effects to show the alien creature in its non-humanoid form. Puppets could be used or animatronics, or animation. Regardless of what is done, the results are likely to look unconvincing and cheap at one end or convincing and very expensive at the other. Using a human actor with prosthetics is likely to be cheaper.

Today, even with CGI, there is a good reason to make alien creatures in movies to look humanoid. and it is the same reason as sci-fi writers did from the earliest times. We cannot recognize feelings very well without having a fairly similar facial structure, as well as corresponding body movements. We don’t really know what an emotional “shrug” looks like for a creature without shoulders, for example.

Now this is not the whole matter. Often the alien beings we create may be humanoid in structure, but have other elements that make them both alien but familiar. Going back to Egyptian mythology, all of them, as far as I know, were humanoid, but a number of them were human looking with the head of an animal such as a jackal or a falcon. The item chosen to make the being alien was still something that made them familiar. While this might sound lazy, from a storytelling standpoint, this is very helpful. It provides a short-hand guide in how to relate. If the head is massively large compared to the rest of the body, perhaps we should identify it as super-intelligent. If it has mouse-like features, perhaps it should be seen as peaceful or timid. A humanoid lion may be presumed to be vicious, or regal, or heroic, depending on which path is chosen. This also allows the creatures to behave in ways that are not particularly human (such as purring or licking) and be understood by connecting the behavior to the appearance that is referenced. In some cases, the features chosen may be intentionally counter-intuitive. Consider the example of Childhood’s End by Arthur C. Clarke, where the aliens have devilish features and yet were ultimately to be understood as benign or even helpful. The choices may be lazy at times (unusual haircuts and colored eye contacts), but the storylistener, storyreader, or storyviewer is likely to be a bit lazy and needs help to figure out how to relate to the alien beings. This goes back to the old trope of the “World of Hats” (I talk a bit about this in the following post: Mindfulness on the World of Hats).

After all of this, I am saying that there is a connection in how we envision alien beings, and how to understand the Incarnation of Christ. I will talk about this in the next two posts, especially the final one. However, I would like to have you reflect on this question. If Jesus is God (not simply godly or god-like)… if Jesus is God Incarnate, then God is distinctly, ontologically different from us, even alien. If we understand that God is not a physical being and thus lacks any inherent humanoid features, how should God present God to us in a way that we can understand?

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