Habitats: Domes, Buried Bases, and Regolith Homes

A Roof Over Our Heads on a Rust-Red World

The moment the first Martian settlers step out of their lander, the question shifts from “Can we get here?” to “Can we stay?” Mars is breathtaking, but it is also bare. There are no forests to gather wood, no air we can breathe, no rivers to follow home. On Earth, shelter can be as simple as a tent in the wilderness; on Mars, it must be a fortress against cold, radiation, and dust.

And yet, even here, the goal is more than mere survival. In the same way that the first homes on Earth became places of family, worship, and community, our first Martian habitats will shape the rhythms of life, the bonds between neighbors, and the witness of the Church under alien skies.

Like pioneers on a new frontier, we will choose our walls carefully, and the walls will, in turn, shape our hearts.

From Tents to Towns: The First Shelter Concepts

The simplest picture is easy to explain: imagine a greenhouse dome, clear panels letting in light, plants growing inside, and people moving about in shirtsleeves. This idea has graced science magazines for decades, and it’s not wrong, but on Mars, the air outside would kill you in minutes, and the Sun’s radiation would seep through that clear glass.

So engineers and planners have converged on three main habitat types for early settlers: pressurized domes, buried bases, and regolith-covered shelters. Each offers a different balance of protection, expandability, and human comfort.

1. Pressurized Domes

These are the most visually iconic, hemispheres or cylinders made of advanced composites, glass-like panels, or layered polymers. Inside, air pressure is kept at Earth-like levels, temperature is regulated, and life can look almost “normal.”

Advantages:

• Psychological benefit. Wide-open views of the Martian landscape and sky.
• Ease of expansion. Modules can be added as population grows.
• Good for early arrivals. Can be prefabricated on Earth and inflated or assembled quickly on Mars.

Challenges:

• Radiation. The thin atmosphere does little to block cosmic rays or solar flares. Transparent panels must be layered with shielding materials or coated to block harmful wavelengths.
• Dust storms. Mars’s fine, electrostatically charged dust can scratch or darken panels over time.

Some designs pair domes with internal “safe rooms”, shielded areas where settlers can shelter during high-radiation events, much like storm shelters on Earth.

2. Buried Bases

The Martian regolith, that loose layer of dust and rock, can be our ally. By digging into the ground or using natural lava tubes, settlers can house themselves beneath a protective blanket of soil.

Advantages:

• Radiation shielding. Even one to two meters of regolith can dramatically cut cosmic ray exposure.
• Thermal stability. Underground spaces avoid the wild swings between day and night temperatures.
• Protection from micrometeorites. Small impacts that could puncture a dome would go unnoticed underground.

Challenges:

• Psychological strain. Living without sunlight or views may affect mental health. Designs may need light wells, virtual windows, or communal greenhouses to counter “cabin fever.”
• Excavation difficulty. Heavy machinery, energy costs, and dust control will be major factors in construction.

Biblically, the image recalls the early Church meeting in catacombs, not for beauty, but for safety. On Mars, these underground halls may likewise be the seedbeds of lasting community.

3. Regolith Homes: The Best of Both Worlds

A hybrid approach is to build structures above ground, then cover them in Martian soil. Inflatable or rigid-frame modules could be landed, pressurized, and then buried beneath layers of regolith for shielding.

Advantages:

• Combines flexibility with protection. You can start with quick-deploy modules and gradually add shielding.
• Adaptable to varied terrain. Works whether you land on a flat plain or near rock outcrops.
• Expandable. New modules can be added and covered over time.

Challenges:

• Material handling. Moving large amounts of soil in low gravity requires equipment designed for the thin atmosphere and abrasive dust.

This method echoes the biblical wisdom of Proverbs 27:12, “The prudent see danger and take refuge.” The danger is radiation; the refuge is built with the very soil of the land God has given us to steward.

Designing for Life, Not Just Survival

Academic studies of extraterrestrial habitats emphasize five interlocking needs:

1. Radiation protection. Minimum safe shielding, integrated into walls and ceilings.
2. Pressure integrity. Materials and seals that endure decades of use.
3. Thermal control. Keeping temperatures stable despite outside swings of 100 °C or more.
4. Resource integration. Using local water ice, regolith, and solar power to reduce dependency on Earth.
5. Psychosocial health. Spaces for exercise, greenery, privacy, and worship.

The last is easily overlooked in engineering blueprints, yet history shows that humans cannot thrive without meaning, beauty, and community. Whether it’s a window facing Olympus Mons or a small chapel with a cross carved from Martian stone, the habitat must give space for the soul as well as the body.

Stewardship in Steel and Soil

From a theological perspective, every bolt we tighten and every wall we raise on Mars is an act of stewardship. The Creation Mandate calls us to subdue the earth, in the sense of cultivating and ordering it for flourishing, not to exploit it recklessly. Mars may seem barren, but it is still part of “the works of His hands” (Psalm 8:6). Our shelters should reflect that respect.

In practice, that means:

• Designing habitats that conserve resources and minimize waste.
• Choosing construction methods that can be maintained by local materials and skills.
• Leaving room for worship and community as central, not optional, features.

A Call to Build Homes Worthy of the Mission

We are not merely building shelters; we are building the first neighborhoods on another world. The settlers who walk through those pressurized doors will carry the hopes of billions, and the witness of the Church, into every meal, every song, every prayer beneath an alien sky.

Engineers, architects, and mission planners reading these words: think not only of safety margins and material strengths, but of the laughter of children, the fellowship of believers, and the testimony these habitats will bear to future generations. Pastors, theologians, and mission leaders: engage now with the questions of how we will plant churches, disciple believers, and integrate worship into the very fabric of Martian life.

The domes, the buried halls, the regolith-shielded rooms, these will be the wombs in which Martian society is formed. Let them be designed so that when history looks back, it sees not just survival, but flourishing; not just engineering, but worship; not just walls, but a home.

One day, a family will sit down for dinner on Mars, bow their heads, and thank God for their daily bread. Outside, the wind will whisper over the dust. Inside, the lights will glow warm. And somewhere above, in a sky unlike any on Earth, the stars will bear silent witness that humanity has come, not as conquerors, but as stewards and worshipers, to live, love, and glorify God on the Red Planet.