“Star Wars” fans didn’t like midi-chlorians — microscopic cells within one’s body that heighten Force sensitivity — when they were introduced in “The Phantom Menace.” But I’d argue that George Lucas was making a subtle commentary on religion, especially when I think about how prequel-era stories have portrayed the Jedi as a religious sect fallen on hard times.
Midi-chlorians put science and logic into religion, and although that’s not strictly possible, it is a fascinating sci-fi “what if.” (A particularly great exploration of this idea is Philip K. Dick’s novel “A Maze of Death,” set in a future where praying yields real results. Thus, prayer is the solution to all problems, and society has specific strategies on how to pray effectively — how to please specific gods, what direction to point in, that sort of thing.)
Religion and midi-chlorians are both attempts to explain the unexplainable. If midi-chlorians took the wonder out of the Force, maybe that was just Lucas’ metaphor for how religion has taken the wonder out of God.
Like all humans, I’m fascinated by the question of what else is out there that we don’t understand. But I’m equally fascinated by the question of why and how people convince themselves that they know the answer to that question.
I’ve often thought religious people can be explained in one of two ways: 1, they were raised by religious parents, or 2, they went through a terrible ordeal (often a drug addiction) and religion was their method of escape.
That explains 90 percent of religious people, but I always struggle to explain the other 10 percent, who haven’t had anything terrible happen to them and whose families aren’t religious. Why do these people have faith? I think Lucas is on the path to answering that question with his creation of midi-chlorians.
I have a nonexistent midi-chlorian count. I am incapable of using faith in lieu of logic to believe something that’s unbelievable. If something sounds ridiculous to me, and it only gets more ridiculous when I dig deeper, I come to the logical conclusion. I believe what I see, and am skeptical about what I don’t see. I’m like Han Solo, who famously said, “Hokey religions and ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side.”
I have friends who have high midi-chlorian counts — some got those faith-sensitivity cells pumped into them by family or trauma, but some were just born with them. They are presented with something that’s unbelievable on the surface, and their faith allows them to believe it. These friends are like Luke Skywalker and his disciples in the new Jedi Order.
In 2009 on Earth, we have no way to measure midi-chlorians/faith cells, but in a galaxy far, far away, they could, because they had better technology than we do.
Han had no particular love for the Jedi. He was brought up during the dark days of the Empire, which rose from the ashes of the Clone Wars, which were really Force-user wars, although the public didn’t know it. But Han had nothing against individual Jedi — he quickly became good pals with Luke, and he even married a Force-sensitive in Leia.
I mirror Han in that way. I don’t care for religion; I think the world would be a better place without it. But I don’t judge people on their religious beliefs; I judge them on the content of their character. As a result, I have friends with high midi-chlorian counts, and they accept me despite my low midi-chlorian count.
Midi-chlorians and religious labels (and skin color and sexual preference and nationality and favorite beverage) are measures of how we are different, but they aren’t a measure of what type of people we are.
Midi-chlorian counts are an unnecessary label in the “Star Wars” world. But our world is full of unnecessary labels, too. Maybe that was Lucas’ point.