This morning a headline came across my social media feed, with a link to a remarkable interview with actor Sir Patrick Stewart, best known for playing Jean-Luc Picard on Star Trek: The Next Generation for seven seasons. In this interview with NPR reporter Rachel Martin, Stewart describes his time playing Picard with strong religious tones. When Martin noted that many Star Trek fans treat the show with almost a religious reverence, Stewart said this:

Yes. I see it very, very clearly and very strongly. It was about truth and fairness and honesty and respect for others, no matter who they were or what strange alien creature they looked like. That was immaterial. They were alive. And if they needed help, Jean Luc Picard and his crew, his team, were there to give it.

In a sense, we were ministers. And I have heard now so many times from individuals who have been honest enough and brave enough to tell me aspects of their life, of their health, of their mental health. And how it was all saved and improved by watching every week.

I came to ST:TNG right about the time it finished airing, and eventually caught up via VHS recordings. And while I may not be a full-blown Trekkie, TNG is my comfort watch. At its best, the Star Trek series—and especially TNG—portrayed an optimistic future where technology and diplomacy had taken care of systemic social issues; where the leading adults were grown-ups who behaved responsibly, admitted their faults, and worked for the greater good.

None was better in this regard than Stewart’s Captain Picard. He was the best of what you as a man might want to be - an accomplished leader, an artist, a man who put his crew’s needs before his own and held to his principles even when it cost him dearly. In a world of entertainment where so many actors turn out to be real scuzzballs in their personal lives, seeing Stewart reach old age and maintain, by all accounts, his reputation as a man of integrity, it’s hard not to feel his real-life person and his onscreen role merge just a little bit. It warms my heart to see this acclaimed example of a good man.

Whether Stewart attracted good people or just rubbed off on them I don’t know, but the men who acted around Stewart have also continued to display honorable attributes long after the show was done. Wil Wheaton, who played the teenager Wesley Crusher on the show, recounts in his memoir how Stewart and Jonathan Frakes (Commander Will Riker) were men who showed him what a real father should be like after Wheaton’s own parents abused him. And then there’s Levar Burton, who for the seven years of ST:TNG, and for 16 more years around it, hosted Reading Rainbow, encouraging a love of books and reading to children via public television.

None of these men went on to build great empires; none needed to play (or try to be, in real life) overly macho men. And yet here, decades later, they are beloved by so many simply because they have maintained integrity in their lives as men of gentleness and humility.

These led me to think about another humble, gentle man who I’ve written about before who fits the same mold, and who spent decades on television in a similar way. I’m talking, of course, about Fred Rogers. Again we have a man who in most ways wouldn’t live up to the expectations of American masculinity, but who portrayed love, care, generosity, and humility in a way that was as fully genuine in person as it was on the screen.

I can almost hear the response pieces being written at Christian outlets like The Gospel Coalition already. Clearly, they’d say, that as nice as Stewart seems, his “ministry” is some sort of false gospel since, well, he doesn’t believe in God. They’d say all his righteousness is false. They’d say he supports liberal social causes and calls himself a feminist, so clearly he’s problematic.

I have been out of evangelicalism long enough to not care what TGC says any more, but having steeped in it for so long, and having had so many people dear to me who embrace that kind of thinking, I want to offer an alternate take. It goes like this:

We don’t need to put scare quotes around “good” when we talk about men like Stewart, Frakes, or Burton. We recognize admirable characteristics in them because they are there. I might even crib a list that includes things like love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, self control…

Now here’s where I’m gonna get all heretical. If these men (or other people like them) are demonstrating the characteristics that Christians know as “fruit of the Spirit”, I’m gonna say that this is evidence of God’s spirit working in them and through them. They may not acknowledge it as such, or even that such a thing exists. But if God is “over all and in all and through all” (Ephesians 4), then does it have to be a big stretch to acknowledge people who model the virtues and priorities that Jesus taught, even if they ascribe them to somewhere else?

The freedom of seeing that God is truly reconciling the whole world has led to a glorious freedom to recognize, admire, and love the good in others without feeling the need to nit pick their theological beliefs. Those who practice the fruit of the Spirit, who do justly and love mercy, who cry out for the poor and oppressed—they will find entering the fulness of the kingdom of God to only be a gentle step from (to borrow Paul’s words) worshiping in ignorance to worshiping in knowledge. Those who carefully articulate a theological line while modeling arrogance, hostility, and gracelessness, though, may find the kingdom to be a bit more of an adjustment.