Tag Archives: Christian

Salvation and Saving Throws

“Dungeons and Dragons,” my friend gasped, then whispered to my son out of concern, “You know that’s demonic, right?”

I had an interesting conversation with a loved one recently. We were chatting about all manner of small-talk topics. “How’s the weather there? What have you been doing lately? I heard this new song I like…”

Then they paused, got serious, and said, “I don’t know how to say this other than to ask directly, but… David, you call yourself a Christian…”

I call myself a Christian? Oh my, where is this going, if my very salvation and my devotion to the faith I’ve held almost 40 years is in doubt?

“… But you also play Dungeons and Dragons. So, how do you reconcile these two things that are so diametrically opposed?” (I admit, ‘diametrically opposed’ may not be the exact phrasing, but I think it was.)

When my friends or family (generally older and generally religious) ask these kind of questions or make these kinds of statements, part of me really wants to ask them to describe D&D for me as they understand it. I guarantee that 95% of the time, it’s not going to line up with what I’ve experienced in fourteen years of running D&D games.

But I don’t want to come from a position of attack or put people on the defensive, so instead, I hope to share my own experiences and trust that those who know me can breathe a little easier when they understand where I’m coming from.

You call yourself a Christian.

So, first things first, I love this person dearly and I am not offended. They asked a direct and honest question from a place of concern and care. They’re going off of what they’ve heard over the years from people they trust, and if that’s all you know on a given subject, that’s the opinion you’re going to hold.

Back in the 80s, there was a period for D&D called the Satanic Panic.

Some pastors and religious figures had heard stories of kids developing an unhealthy investment into this strange game, and they delivered strong warnings to the faithful. Comics and movies were made to warn of the danger of this dark game where you pretend to be all these weird characters and you act out what they do in their fantasy worlds. Stories circulated of kids believing they WERE their made-up character, and some reports circulated of these kids committing suicide if their in-game persona died.

On top of those concerns, toss in game rules for heroes using magic powers, and a book of monsters to fight that includes demons and devils… which translated into worries that this game was a springboard into actual satanic indoctrination, a gateway to genuine witchcraft, an excuse to perform real rituals and even sacrifices, or an open door for summoning demonic spirits.

Well, who wants their kids to be exposed to all that? Point being, I understand the concern even though I believe it’s (mostly) unfounded.

Playing Pretend, But With Dice

When my brother and I were young, we would line up our toys like opposing armies on the field of battle that was his room. He was always the history buff and strategist, arranging his troops in formations and marching them against my army in organized waves – cannon fodder first, then good but expendable forces, then those he still cared about, followed by his strongest and most favorite toys. We never got that far unless he felt like having his best guys beat the mess out of mine for story’s sake.

I would get caught up in the stories between characters – the rivalries and friendships, the alliances and betrayals, the romances and battle-forged bonds of brotherhood. “My guy is upset,” I would explain, “because this other guy is in love with this lady, and—“

“Sure, whatever,” my brother would respond, “but my first wave is running into your camp carrying bombs and they just blew up all these idiots along with themselves.”

Occasionally we would argue:

“My guy beat your guy for sure, because he knows jiu jitsu and taekwondo.”

“Yeah but my guy is genetically enhanced and he’s wearing special armor that gives him faster reflexes.”

“But he can’t dodge a laser—it’s too fast.”

“Nah, he dodged it.”

“No way!”

“Way!”

Back to my phone conversation. “It’s like that,” I explained, “except there are some dice and rules to determine who actually beats up who, or how good someone does when they try something heroic. That’s really all D&D is… playing pretend with friends, and some dice, and some rules.”

“If anything,” I added, “I think that’s a bigger concern and a better argument from a Christian perspective for why D&D might be bad. Like any hobby or luxury, it can be an incredible waste of time.”

What is D&D?

“I was watching these groups play D&D on YouTube, and I’ve never played before, but I think it would be cool to try… but I don’t know how it works and I’ve never played anything like this.”

I’ve had the pleasure of running a few introductory sessions for coworkers and friends, usually as a result of a statement like the above. Where D&D was once the province of social outcasts and nerds, tabletop roleplaying games are enjoying a massive surge in popularity.

D&D and most tabletop RPGs are about collaborative storytelling. Most games have a “master” of some sort, who functions as the rules referee and final authority on what actually happens in the story everyone’s telling. (e.g. did my guy beat up my brother’s? or did he dodge lasers with his genetic enhancements, which is obvious cheating trash? Let the game master decide.)

1. Storyteller describes what’s happening.

2. Players choose an action.

3. Roll dice.

4. Storyteller determines results and goes back to Step 1.

That’s the short version of the whole game.

The storyteller or gamemaster sets the scene, describing what’s going on and where everyone is. What’s available in the room that the heroes can use? What monsters are trying to stop them? What dangers do they face, or who must they persuade in order to accomplish their goals?

“You’re in a dank cave that stinks like mildew and rotting flesh. You peer into the darkness, but without any sources of light, everything is pitch black. All you hear is the low rumble of a sleeping beast deeper inside, its billowing snores creating an uncomfortable breeze of hot moist air that smells like decay.”

The players declare what they want to do.

“I want to light a torch.” (Are you sure? You might wake the beast.)

“I want to feel around for some of the treasure we’re sure is in here.” (You might make some noise.)

“I want to whisper to the mercenary we brought from town – does she know anything about what’s lurking in this cave?” (Ah, but do you trust her? What if she lies?)

“I want to sneak toward the beast, maybe see if I can look for some weakness.”

“I think we should leave. Who’s with me?”

The storyteller asks them to roll a die and add the result to some number on their character sheet that reflects how good (or bad) their character is at the given task:

Tyrion Lannister is going to have a harder time jumping across a broken castle rampart than Jon Snow.

Frodo Baggins will struggle to lift heavy rocks to find his buried friends, but Boromir and Strider can toss stones with ease. (But not a dwarf; no one tosses a dwarf!)

Tony Stark can come up with the secret of time travel over a cup of hot cocoa, but Groot is never going to succeed no matter how well the player rolls.

Then the process repeats, and hopefully, a thrilling story develops.

No one has to show up dressed like their character, though some gamers find that fun. Depending on your group, some people will talk “in character,” maybe affecting an accent or memorable speech pattern. For some players, it’s fun to come up with an extensive backstory – all the details of their character’s life and previous relationships which might come into play during the course of the group’s game.

Some players contribute to the story and the heat of the moment by going in-depth with their descriptions of the fighting style of their hero or the way divine might radiates through their holy symbol as they call upon higher powers. My son (who was warned about the demonic nature of D&D) made his character a Christian and quoted scripture in-game, as part of his character’s story and his personal preference.

For others, simple is fun. “I am Barg. Barg is strong. Barg smash everyone bad.”

You Write the Script Together

Think of Game of Thrones. A lot of fans were upset with the final season. It wasn’t even just complaints that this or that character didn’t win and take over as King or Queen. Many fans complained about plot threads that got left out, or plot twists they felt hadn’t been built up in a way that made sense.

Wouldn’t it be great if you could put your own spin on the story?

If you’ve ever really gotten into a TV series or movie to the point that you care about the characters and what happens to them, imagine helping tell the story of what happens next and deciding how your heroes should respond to the challenges that come their way.

That’s what a good game of D&D is: collaborative storytelling. The players and the storyteller all have input into what happens and how the story progresses. It’s like a group reading of an old Choose Your Own Adventure book, where everyone takes turns making decisions and every page has a thousand options.

Admittedly, some groups will put objectionable content into their games, just like some movies are too dark or disturbing for certain viewers. Game of Thrones certainly wasn’t for everybody, either.

Like any hobby, some things can be taken too far. As Christians (and I think as people in general), we should be careful about what we dwell on and how much we get invested into our interests.

Reconciliation

As I said, I have no ill will over being asked “As a Christian, how can you justify playing D&D?” I think there are valid concerns that should be taken into account, as with all the ways in which we spend our time, our resources, and our energy.

I can take a step back and consider, “Am I just making excuses? Am I lying to myself about this? Am I ignoring conviction?”

I’d like to think that people with no experience with the game can also take a step back and consider whether what I’ve described from firsthand experience is the dangerous deception they’ve been led to believe it is.

Like D&D, life works best when we can hear each other out, find common ground, and collaborate to make it better.

#NewyearmoreHim

My wife and I posted a LiveStream video of some instrumental worship songs today.

We played an old favorite of ours, Grace Like Rain (Todd Agnew). Then, we played You Are My All in All (Dennis Jernigan), which was the first church worship song I played and sang once I rededicated my life to Christ shortly after coming to Japan as a young servicemember. Wonderful, Merciful Savior (Selah) is a family favorite of my wife and my mother-in-law, and also a beautiful song that focuses on each Person of the Trinity in turn. Finally, we added in Mary Did You Know (Mark Lowry) mixed with Greensleeves a.k.a. What Child is This, as a final touch of Christmas.

You can find it on our Facebook page, FreeWorship Music.

On top of that, while out for a spontaneous walk today, I remembered a song I’d written years ago that captured how I felt about my spirituality of late. I started singing that softly as I meandered around the neighborhood, and realized it could flow right into Set a Fire (Will Reagan). The wifey and I put together some harmonies and a bit of a round in Set a Fire, while she figured out some violin parts to play in my song.


I’m not one for New Year’s Resolutions, nor do I look at January 1st as the magic time to start a gym habit or creative pursuit. If something’s worth doing, it’s worth starting at once, not at some socially-accepted date known and ridiculed as a train wreck of ridiculous but futile effort towards failed self-improvements.

But I did end up starting a couple things near the New Year… Probably because I saw articles about them that were written to suggest or encourage “here’s a neat habit for a resolution.”

I’ve been trying out a Bullet Journal – especially useful since I work in a facility where I can’t bring personal electronics into my office. And I’ve been practicing a version of the Miracle Morning, with a more Christian bent than the vague and flexible option I first found. As part of that, I’ve spent more time in the Bible and in prayer, and it’s both a step in the right direction and toward some personal aspects and characteristics I’ve allowed to languish.

Yesterday, my wife and I caught some of the songs and sermons from Passion 2017. Today, we watched one with our kids, then tried to have a discussion about the message and how to apply it. On top of that, we took time for Communion–something we meant to do but missed at Christmas or New Year’s Eve/Day.

The music, the worship, the message, the ritual–all this we did in remembrance of Him. It felt like reconnecting to what matters in some small ways. It felt good, and right.

Even with cracked matzos on a paper plate and grape juice in tiny Dixie cups.

Lyrics:

I Need More

Only You can meet my deepest needs

Only You fulfill my heart’s desire

I’ve pushed away by doing what I please

But now, O Lord, I welcome Your fire
I want more, more of You in my life

Nothing compares to the joy I find in You

I need more, more of You in my life

And I’ll lay it all down to be closer to You

Nothing I desire, nothing satisfies

It’s You that I require, Your love gives me life

I need more, more of You.
Your love, Lord, is sweeter than wine

A day with You much better than a lifetime all my own

The glory of Your presence so sublime

I find in You much greater joy than I have ever known

 

My life cannot go on without You Lord

Your love sustains me and I desire more

Song: How Great You Are

Link to song on SoundCloud: How Great You Are

Friday night, I got to spend a little time banging on the keys, playing and singing songs to worship. Some were to prepare for Sunday, and some were simply because I enjoy them.

I found a few chord progressions I liked, and started putting some lyrics together for a melody that formed in my head. Then I realized I could combine these lyrics and the music with the words of the old hymn, “How Great Thou Art.”

That hymn is a favorite for my Dad, who is 100% Swedish. A young Swedish pastor penned the lyrics after a stroll through the woods experiencing the glory of God revealed in nature. Like many hymns, it quickly turns attention to Christ’s sacrifice and atonement for our sin on the Cross, followed by a reminder of the glorious hope of eternity with God.

The bridge I added, the part with “Sing my soul how great this God,” was meant to be the crescendo of praise in the song. I wanted the music and the words to be something that builds up to a point where I throw everything I have into worship, into the music, into my relationship with God, into living for Him. After all, what good is a song that sounds great right now as I sing it but does not remind me or challenge me to continue living out its message?

How Great You Are

Verse 1
      O Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder
      consider all the worlds Thy hands have made
I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder
      Thy pow’r throughout  the universe displayed

Chorus

Then sings my soul   My Savior God to Thee
How great You are
God, how great You are to me
Praises bring to the matchless King
God how great You are
How great You are

Verse2

And when I think             that God His Son not sparing
Sent Him to die, I             scarce can take it in
That on the Cross             my burden gladly bearing
He bled and died to        take away my sin

Bridge

Sing my soul how great this God    Everlasting      Ever  loving

Sing my soul how great this God   Never ending  Never failing

God how great You are   God how great You are

Verse 3
When Christ shall come      with shouts of acclamation
and  take me   home what joy shall fill my heart
Then I shall bow               in humble adoration
and then proclaim “My God how great Thou art!”
Now sings my soul, my Savior, God, to Thee

 

Insulation/Isolation

I realized today what my spiritual life has been missing.

No, no… my problem isn’t a lack of discipline or a hypocritical lifestyle.

Those are just the symptoms.

My problem is that I don’t have a Christian tablet. I have a heathen iPad.

I saw this article and wondered what in the world we Christians are doing sometimes.

Seriously. “In the world, what are we doing?”

We live such neat little Christian lives, where we only listen to Christian radio or read from Christian media sources. Our Christian leaders in church and on Christian websites tell us what to think about all the stuff going on in the world. We can get together at our Christian coffee shop in the Christian version of Borders and compare Christian notes about the best-selling Christian fiction or self-help books. We’ll have Christian sports nights where we get together with all our Christian buddies and throw a football around. Maybe we’ll have Christian movie night, while the kidlets are in the back room watching VeggieTales (the good Christian ones from the old days with the Bible verses).

On the weekend, we’ll have Christian services (the good folks go to morning and evening service if available). And there’s the Wednesday night groups with good Christian activities for the kids. Don’t forget the Women’s Bible Study on Thursday morning and the Men’s Prayer Breakfast on Saturdays. Oh, and I can’t hang out Thursday night… Christian band practice, so we can jam to Christian music at Sunday’s service. But don’t miss the Friday night meeting where we talk about Christian politics and saving America and how candidates measure up in their support of Christian policies. (We won’t tell you how to vote. We’ll just tell you how they voted, and you can decide for yourselves at that point.)

Ok, I honestly don’t think any of those things, taken by themselves, are bad… even the political aspect. I’m no fan of the “Christian nation” idea, but if people are actually learning some of what is going on in the political realm, I think there’s a net gain. If people are being mis-informed to support a particular agenda, then that gets back to my point with all this.

Someone will ask, with the best intentions, “What about holiness?”

We are absolutely called to be holy. We can’t ignore that. But we’re also told to be “in the world yet not of it.”

Too often we solve the “not of it” by being “not in it.”

The Christian brands of everything are not going to make us “in the world yet not of it.” Though they may even be good competitive products, buying them doesn’t do anything for my spirituality.

If we mirror the culture around us–if we do almost everything people outside the church do, except we call our activities “Christian,” then I think we’re missing something important.

We can build up a fort to keep out the world.

We can isolate ourselves from everyone not us and insulate ourselves with Christian everything. We can hunker down like a family in the basement during a storm, trying to hang on in a culture some feel is steering farther and farther from traditional values. “Don’t go outside… it’s dangerous out there. In here, it’s safe. It’s Christian.”

Or we can build a home that welcomes the weary and refreshes their souls.

We could open our doors and our hearts. We could make our churches, our homes, and our very lives into places of refuge, where people can unload their burdens and find compassionate support.

We could show people we care less about cultural or political or religious views that divide us, and more about the person who has the views.

Instead of judging the person in trouble, we could extend a helping hand or a shoulder to cry on. We could roll up our sleeves and get dirty while meeting practical needs… not as some outreach program where we wash your car or give you a meal after we preach the gospel to you,

We could give someone a meal because they’re hungry, they need it, and we care about them more than the number of converts or new visitors our church gets this month.

Are we going to find out some ugly things about the world and life? Yes.

Are we going to deal with difficult situations where there are no real easy answers, no clear-cut Scripture verses we can parrot at the person? Yes.

Are our beliefs and our views going to be challenged? Absolutely. We might see a whole new side of the people we thought were against us. We might learn a completely different side of a political or cultural issue. We could be exposed to new thoughts we haven’t had before.

Then again, maybe I’m wrong. Everyone knows how dangerous thoughts can be.

I need someone to tell me which are the Christian ones I’m allowed to have.

Maybe there’s an app on the Edifi for that.