T: TELEMETRY

I wanted to be an astronaut as a child, but then, didn’t we all? NASA was like a shiny silver jet fueled incarnation of the words Robert Browning had written a century earlier, “A man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for?” The astronauts in their suits just made you want to roll up your bell-bottomed jeans, turn up Clapton, and go for it! This rush of imagery and inspiration comes back to me when I watch movies like Apollo 13, where phrases like “flirting with gimbal lock” transport you back to the land of slide rules, pocket protectors, crew cuts, dutiful wives, and the unscathed hope that science could solve all. (A nerd version of Mad Men!)

One of my favorite scenes from Apollo 13 is the “go/no go poll” of the launch status checklist: Every man in a white shirt and thin black tie is asked if they are “go” or “no go” for flight. I suppose I love it because it represents the synergy of the complex moving parts—the colleagues joining forces, each at their station, to unite around a big, big idea! Even though so much of that checklist would be digitized today, there is something gloriously human about the analog version: people at their posts being “polled” and declaring they are “READY” to “LAUNCH”! One of my favorite words from the movie (besides “gimbal lock”) is the word “telemetry” which had a place in that sequence. The official term from the Apollo checklist was the word “TELMU” which stood for a bundle of things, but telemetry was used so often in the movie (and was the entire backbone of the ability to send men into space) that it lives big in my mind’s checklist!

Telemetry simply means remote measurement, or literally, monitoring from a distance. Obviously, in the case of the early manned space flights, data was gathered in remote space and transmitted back to mission control’s mainframes for processing. Telemetry is used in countless other applications as well. Any wireless transmission that relays data from the far reaches back to a central location is considered telemetry. A weather balloon is probably the ultimate example: it exists simply for the purpose of remote measurement.

Telemetry is a compound form of two Greek words. In the Western world, we are far too familiar with the second “meter” part (from the Greek metron,) for we have developed a personal relationship with our ability to measure things! Sometimes that relationship borders on addiction! In a way, the faith that the modern world has in science rests on measurement alone. The experimental method is really no more than an extreme intentionality grid for measuring accurately. We have built a society and a way of life on measurement. We predict, adjust, infer, decide and theorize based on the all-powerful data! In the modern zeitgeist, the metron is all-important.

Our measurement fever and fervor for data collection often subconsciously extends to our inner world. We sometimes (or often) launch personal weather balloons in attempts to monitor our environments and protect ourselves from “bad moons on the rise” (70’s references abound when you write about Apollo). We may also be found monitoring the stations in our own inner “flight control” chamber at times, trying to ensure a safe return from our own failed “moon attempts”. In so doing, we get as frazzled as the fatigued ground control crew portrayed in the movie. We overload ourselves with more data than our little human slide rules (and sometimes even main frames) can handle!

Some of the “remote” things we monitor in our spiritual lives are not far away in space, but rather a different kind of “far”—they are deep inside in that place where Death Cab For Cutie would say “soul meets body”, or where the Bible would say, “joints meet marrow.” There is where our telemetry really stumbles and we really flirt with gimbal lock! We “should” be happy, but our readings don’t line up! We should feel inspired, but instead the data pumps out remembrances of disappointment. Controlling the environment around us is one kind of tiring, but trying to get a harness on the inner readings and correct them is often quite another frustration indeed. When your inner telemetry tells you that you are “off”, you sometimes want to abort the whole launch.

Ironically, there is an antidote for our telemetry problem right in the meaning of the word. The meaning of the first part of the word contains the hope of a better relationship with measurement. The Greek prefix tele- (far) is related to one of my favorite Greek words, teleios, which is translated as, “complete” or “perfect”, and comes from telos (consummated goal). When describing what God does for us, it is a welcome word, but when describing how we should live, it can be very intimidating: “Be perfect; even as your heavenly Father is perfect.” I have no problem believing that God is teleios, but a casual hearing of that expectation out of me triggers all kinds of imperfect response right away. As always, the casual reading is not the end. The Greek language that so easily houses spiritual thought pierces through performance anxiety with its truth: Teleios “is well-illustrated with the old pirate's telescope, unfolding (extending out) one stage at a time to function at full-strength (capacity effectiveness).” (HELPS Word Study) There’s your comfort for bad telemetry: Completeness, effectiveness, maturity and wholeness come in FRACTALS! God’s perfection in us telescopes out in increasing measure while we zoom through this space odyssey! My goofed up reading, real or aberration, need not freak me out. (Still in the 70’s here…)

When your telemetry is telling you that you are imperfect, readjust by all means, but don’t abort the mission. Your completeness comes in stages. Your spiritual growth telescopes out from the inside, engulfing more and more territory around you. The “remote” parts of your life that are sending back dire and alarming measurements only represent more of the scope of redemption yet to be unfolded in and through you. “Be perfect” is not a demand, but an offer and an opportunity, one that could easily be interpreted, “Allow My completion to be fully extended in you!”

Some of us are more like weather balloons than others, more given to data intake during the storm, and more prone to monitor our environment becoming students of the climate around us. Go for it—God wired you the way He wanted you and know that your sensors are a gift. But when the data overwhelms you or leads you to a conclusion that is not commensurate with the hope of glory within, you actually have permission to disregard the telemetry! Sometimes, you might have to break your addiction to monitoring to engage a broader truth of trust. Your signal processing may take some time to change, but you can do it. You really are not your own flight control director! The gloriously human Gene Kranz in Apollo 13, amidst every reason to despair, still boldly declared that no one would be lost on his watch—and they weren’t. There’s a far better Watcher at the helm for you. Even in this scientific age, you can’t always trust your telemetry.