I wasn't around when the Bible was written, but I was three years old when I saw Star Wars at the drive-in for the first time. I don't really remember the details because I was as equally fascinated by the back seat of the family station wagon. A few years later, I recalled my mother telling my dad to quietly read the scrolling of The Empire Strikes Back to me because I couldn't read fast enough yet. After the second installment, my brothers and I were firmly convinced that Darth Vader was not Luke's father. Mainly because he was the bad guy, and bad guys lie. We also wanted Han Solo to be the other Jedi (Our justification was that he used the light saber to open the Tauntaun). After standing in line in Amarillo, Texas for an hour or so for Return of the Jedi, we were proven wrong on most of our speculation. With the trilogy complete in 1983, we have had sixteen years to make Star Wars a religion.

With the help of a Beta video, Star Wars became the most watched movie of my youth. Bachelor Party was a moderately close second (don't ask why, or I'll tell you). There was a stretch of a few months one spring when I watched it everyday after school (and to think, people complained about the downsides to being a latch-key kid). I memorized the lines, I acted out the scenes, and I tried desperately to have the power of psychokinesis.

My family was a big church going bunch, so I had my share of Bible rhetoric as well, but the verbosity never seemed to have the same effect that the Jedi Master wisdom had on me. I preferred Yoda telling me straight out "That is why you fail" rather than a preacher going on for a half an hour about why I was failing.

And Star Wars had all sorts of merchandise. Maybe if I had Noah, Moses, David and Jesus in tiny doll form to play with, I would have enjoyed myself more in church. Instead of passing around the collection plate, the preacher should have reminded us that the new Noah's Ark was for sale in the lobby--action figures sold separately.

As I grew older, the Bible's messages became more ambiguous and contradictory while the trilogy's messages stayed as simple and concrete as always. While I still have an affection for many Bible stories, they don't hold my attention with the same fervor of the Death Star battles. In the end, I'd rather grapple with the Dark Side of the Force within me instead of flipping through pages and pages trying to figure out if what I do is considered a sin or not.

Apparently I'm not the only one either. It's harder to find someone oblivious to Star Wars than a person who doesn't know the story of Jesus.

So welcome to the religion of the new millennium. We know the allegorical stories of Han, Luke and Leia like the back of our hand, and I'm sure we'll discover over the next decade more lessons from young Obi-Wan, Anakin, and some characters we haven't considered yet. There is no church we need to go to save a few trips to the theater and dozens of screenings when the movies hit video.

The religion will take all kinds. You can be a hard core, merchandise-toting, line reciting devotee or just a simple member of the congregation who saw the movie a couple times. It's the first religion to go digital. To reach the masses on a cutting edge level. And we will follow. Not because our parents drag us to sit in the theater pews, not because everyone we know will make the holy pilgrimage to venues with the finest sound quality, and not because we think we will be punished if we refuse to watch.

We follow because Episode 1 is what most other religions have yet to offer us. A new story.

Chris Jungle speaks the truth--from a certain point of view.