There are some things more predictable in modern Christian corners of the internet than the claim that aliens are demons. Not metaphorical demons. Literal, horn-polishing, red-eyed demons in flying saucers, zooming about the upper atmosphere waiting to insert microchips and destroy the family unit.
One cannot sneeze in a telescope shop without someone citing Ezekiel’s wheel as proof that extraterrestrials are emissaries of Hell. It’s become the new heresy-hunting pastime: swap the Inquisition for infrared, and we’re off.
But long before the age of UFO TikTok and infrared ‘non-biological entities,’ C.S. Lewis – ever the Oxford gentleman, pipe in hand and wits intact – tackled the question with the kind of gentle rigour that puts most YouTube theologians to shame. His 1958 essay, Religion and Rocketry, dares to ask: what if aliens aren’t demons? What if they aren’t fallen at all?
A Universe Not Built to Flatter Us
Lewis’ first, and rather uncomfortable, point is that the universe is big. Mind-numbingly so. Which means we ought to dismount our high horse (probably called ‘Anthropos’) and accept that God’s creative energies might extend beyond our own carbon-based predicament.
The real theological scandal, according to Lewis, is not the existence of aliens, but the human tendency to assume that we’re the main act. We swagger about in the drama of salvation history as if we were the only players, the only planet, the only story worth telling. But perhaps, just perhaps, other creatures – rational, sentient, exquisitely strange – exist beyond our telescopic reach, living in a state of sinless grace that puts us all to shame.
Imagine a civilisation with no need for priests, confession booths, or Facebook. One can hardly bear it.
The Cosmic Christ and Other People’s Problems
Lewis outlines several possibilities in his essay:
They may not be fallen: In which case, we’d do well to avoid infecting them with our nonsense.
They may be fallen but redeemed in ways unknown to us: A local saviour? A parallel incarnation?
They may be awaiting redemption, and Earth may be, terrifyingly, the staging ground for something far grander than us.
Or perhaps Christ’s sacrifice on Earth is cosmically efficacious, rippling outwards like gravity across time and matter, covering even those who have never heard of Bethlehem, much less Baal Zebub.
Either way, it’s not a given that aliens = demons. That equation is more superstition than scripture, and Lewis – while far from a theological anarchist – simply refused to shrink God’s creativity to fit our moral panic.
But What About the Saucer People?
Now, before you accuse me of being soft on demons, let me say this: some of the more theatrical reports of alien abductions do bear an uncanny resemblance to medieval tales of incubi and succubi, right down to the probing. But Lewis would likely remind us that not everything strange is Satanic. Some of it might just be… strange.
To see a glowing light in the sky and immediately assume infernal origins is to short-circuit imagination with fear. It is to replace wonder with weaponry. There is no humility in that reaction – only panic dressed up as orthodoxy.
A Final Thought from the Silent Planet
Lewis’s own fiction – The Space Trilogy – takes these themes even further. In Out of the Silent Planet, he imagines a solar system full of vibrant, rational beings, each in harmonious obedience to their own planetary angel or ‘Oyarsa,’ except Earth – Thulcandra, the Silent Planet – quarantined due to its Fall.
How telling that we, the broken ones, are the planet shouting at the stars, calling everything else demonic.
It may be that we are not broadcasting our faith so much as our fear. And that, to my mind, is far more dangerous than little green men.
So the next time someone tells you aliens are demons, just smile and say: “Possibly. But they might also be better behaved than us.” Then offer them a copy of C.S. Lewis, a telescope, and a nice cup of tea. Not everything out there is out to get us. Some things, like the best theology, are simply beyond us – and blessedly so.
Before you run off and start watching The X-Files, Buy Me a Coffee
Wording 
It wasn’t until I was in my 40’s that I really realized how much Lewis had influenced my thinking about ET’s. I wasn’t very happy about that to be honest.
As for ufo’s and alien demons, I think a lot of that is down to the message that those beings seem to promote, which is anti-Christ, whether overtly or implied. And as Paul says, if someone “preaches” another Gospel, even “angels”, well, they are anti-christ. So that is how I’ve settled that question in my mind.
As a 7th day adventist, I definitely believe in a greater creation but also in the Great Controversy, which is debate about whether creation can go it’s own way or if God’s way is the only way. That “debate” is working out on a universal stage and will settle things so there will never be another Satan questioning God, etc.
And I hope I didn’t blather on too much there. That happens sometimes 😉
Thanks so much for taking the time to share such a reflective and personal comment – and no, you didn’t blather on at all! In fact, I really appreciate the clarity with which you laid out your thinking.
It’s fascinating how formative voices like Lewis can influence us, sometimes in ways we only recognise later. I completely understand the ambivalence you mention – discovering just how deeply a writer has shaped our worldview can feel both enlightening and unsettling, especially when their conclusions don’t quite sit comfortably with us anymore. Lewis’ speculations on extraterrestrial life, particularly in Perelandra and Religion and Rocketry, certainly leave much to chew on, and I’ve found myself agreeing and disagreeing with him in equal measure at times.
Your reflections on the anti-Christ themes present in certain alleged “alien” messages are very striking. I think you’re absolutely right to draw on Paul’s warnings about “another gospel,” even one preached by “angels” – it’s a powerful scriptural anchor, and one that resonates with many people grappling with the strange modern narratives surrounding UFO phenomena. These messages often carry a sort of gnostic undercurrent: secret knowledge, evolution into godhood, or vague spiritual enlightenment that ultimately bypasses Christ. That alone should prompt us to proceed with discernment.
I also really appreciate your perspective as a Seventh-day Adventist and your reference to the Great Controversy framework – the cosmic scope of that narrative is both sobering and awe-inspiring. The idea that this is not just a local skirmish but a universal reckoning of trust, freedom, and divine governance is deeply moving, and it certainly offers a lens through which many of these phenomena can be viewed more clearly.
Thanks again for your thoughtful contribution – these are the kinds of discussions that make the blog feel like a real conversation, and I’m grateful for your voice in it.
Glad it wasn’t blather. Just don’t expect this much solemnity very often, hahahahaa.
And to be clear, I don’t leave comments with the expectation that you have to agree with them, hahahahaa. That’s just a nice bonus if that works out.
Getting various thoughts and ideas out there is what is important to me, so I’m glad you feel the same way…
Hah! Understood – I shall treasure the solemnity while it lasts, like a rare celestial event. But rest assured, lightheartedness is equally welcome here (possibly even preferred… it keeps the furniture from getting too dusty).
And I really appreciate what you said – this space was never meant to be an echo chamber. Agreement is lovely when it happens, but it’s the exchange of ideas, the tension and texture of different perspectives, that really make things interesting. Iron sharpening iron, and all that.
So thank you for contributing your thoughts so openly – and for doing it with both clarity and good humour. That’s a rare and very welcome mix.
Looking forward to more – solemn or otherwise!
Cheers,
Robert