I have found a most interesting collection of articles expounding on how religion, myth, history, and Science Fiction go well together - - "Science Fiction and the Bible"
Seeing that I cannot copy and paste from this very lengthy article I will transcribe a bit of it. There may be typos and it may not be word for word but here goes ...
The worldview of the present day tends to expect humans to need to sort things out for ourselves. Salvation may emerge, but typically it will come from within the process rather than outside it. As Uhlenbruch observes, "Divine intervention my not be
en vogue in contemporary story-telling, but networked individuals and the emergence of something bigger than a sum of parts is a very popular topos." And yet nevertheless, the desperate hope for outside assistance -- whether in the discovery of the power of a substance, or contact with a personal alien or deity -- to effect longed-for salvation, remains with us, as seen time and time again in the attention given to biblical stories of this sort and the composition of new Science Fiction stories along similar lines.
The response by readers to stories of this sort not only in the past, but also in the present, suggests that we may not have changed as much as we sometimes like to think. But who or what we expect to save us makes a difference, as does whether we think we are being saved from a force outside ourselves, or from our very selves.
For the critical scholar, exploration of the Hebrew Bible's theological perspectives is, in a sense, a study in idolatry. Although these texts are famous for their polemic
against idolatry, it can be argued that the attempt to turn the absolute into story, into words and ideas that the human mind can comprehend, is every bit as idolatrous as the depiction of God using stone and metal.
As Landy writes in his article, "We imagine and create omnipotent forces that control us." And yet, just as we are deluding ourselves if we think that by avoiding the making of physical images we can avoid mental idolatry, so too we would be deluding ourselves if we thought that we could simply avoid thinking, imagining, or telling stories about the divine.
Indeed, perhaps the issue with idolatry pertains less to thinking or narrating, and more to the tendency after we have imagined or narrated to fix what our minds have made as hard and fast as if they were literally set in stone.
The Bible sets it legal prohibitions of idolatry within a narrative framework of stories about God, hinting that, while fixed images seek to constrain God and so constrain us, our imaginations, and our possibilities, the narrating of God, when approached in an open-ended manner, invites us to explore, reflect, and grow. Theologies have the potential to be freeing or captivating.
In his article, Landy echoes Henri Bergson's reference to "the essential function of the universe, which is a machine for the making of gods." More precisely, the universe seems to be a machine for the making of people who make gods. And it is a machine for the making of people who make stories, about the divine and about ourselves. If some Science Fiction has attempted to desacralize the cosmos and remove the divine from the picture, the very act of imaginative storytelling, it may be argued, cannot but serve as symbol and sacrament pointing towards transcendent mystery.
Science Fiction has used tired narrative cliches just as religious literature has , and both kinds of literature have managed to produce works that continue to provoke and engage. Science Fiction has the potential to disturb us every bit as much as ancient religious literature does, and sometimes in relation to the same topics. If Science Fiction asks whether we could tell if our deity were simply a powerful alien, religious literature -- however much it may offer reassurances in places about the character of God -- tells stories which make us wonder what sort of entity we are dealing with too.
Humanity is made in God's image, according to Genesis, and humans in turn try to envisage God in terms of our own image and likeness. Thus caught in an endless spiral, we find ourselves overwhelmed by the numinous and repulsed by the grotesque that is glimpsed at the edges of the cosmos and at the same time found lurking the dark recesses of our hearts and minds. This is true in both Science Fiction and in the Hebrew Bible. And when two sets of literature turn humanity's gaze in the same direction, provokes reflection on our deepest questions, and evokes the same kinds of emotional responses both positive and negative, can there be any doubt that these genres, which might seem to some polar opposites, are in fact two sides of the same coin?
Some who study the Hebrew Bible will have reacted with dismay at the connection of as serious a subject as theirs with something as trivial as Science Fiction. Some who study Science Fiction will have reacted with horror at the connection of as serious a subject as theirs with texts they associate with superstition and a variety of other things seemingly antithetical to the 'spirit' of Science Fiction.
Our desire to desacralize and to re-enchant, to find security and to explore, to understand and to stand in awe of mystery, find expression in a great many different kinds of stories that we tell. The enjoyment and study of them is part of our effort to understand ourselves.