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On Video Games: Incarnation or Disincarnation?

Brian shares a quote and comments:

“Yet computer games remove us from reality and morality. They teach us the attractions of causing pain without recognizing responsibility or consequences.” [Living Into Focus, pp.] 102-103

I would love to discuss the validity and ramifications of this idea more.

Why not? This is my first ever post about video games. Let me know if this line of thought makes sense to anyone other than myself…

The quote above made me think about something I haven’t thought about for a while. For the life of me I cannot remember where I got the idea or why I have even thought of it before. I thought I must have written about it in the past, but my internet searches have come up empty. But I digress. The subject is ‘dis-incarnation.‘ I am sure that the idea (for me) was lifted from some source, but I can’t remember who or what, so I can’t give proper credit.

[Update: Three brief points I would like to clarify: 1) I could have, and perhaps should have, used the word ‘excarnation’ instead of ‘disincarnation.’ If the post gets a significant number of views I will probably change it. 2) Note that nowhere do I make any explicit conclusions about any sort of inherent evil or sinfulness in video games. 3) I am not even remotely thinking about anything other than video games (someone asked me if I intended board games as well: no, I don’t. I wasn’t thinking of anything other than video games in this post).]

I do, however, have this quote:

Human nature, or the condition of having a material body and participating in the change and suffering of the creation, was that from which man had to be delivered, but not that by which he would be delivered (Jaroslav Pelikan, The Emergence of the Catholic Tradition, p. 76).

The quote, of course, relates to some form of gnosticism. In context it is actually about Marcionism, but that’s not important for our subject. I am totally removing it from its context to relate it to another subject.

Pelikan’s point was that Marcionism got it wrong. A suffering existence in this world is not simply what we look to be delivered from, it is actually what we are delivered by. This is true on the macro scale as it is through Christ’s suffering that we are redeemed. It is also true, according to the apostle Paul, on the micro scale:

The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, 17 and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him (Rom. 8:16-17).

You can read my take on that specific passage HERE.

Dis-incarnation seeks to take the human existence in general, and suffering in particular, out of the equation. It seeks to spiritualize rather than embody, to mystify rather than to flesh out, to be removed rather than engaged. My question is, Do video games do this? I say ‘yes’ and ‘no.’

In one sense video games are extremely engaging. They demand the attention of the whole person (mind and body). They can, at times, engage every aspect of the soul: mind, will, and affections. They often involve person-to-person interaction as well. Likewise there is a sense in which they directly involve incarnation, as we, via technology, seek to incarnate ourselves into a game. Here comes the rub.

Are we really incarnating ourselves? Is it possible to be incarnate digitally? Is it possible to have an incarnation into a (bodiless) digital body? Conundrum. I immediately object to my own line of reasoning. What about books? Aren’t books a form of incarnation? Aren’t they a form of incarnation (say embodiment if incarnation is too theologically loaded a word) into a non-physical environment of words and story? Don’t video games draw out similar passions and emotional experiences as books? I don’t know if I can answer my own objection. Let’s try.

Let me tell you a story about why I started playing the guitar: South Park was big when I was a teenager. I haven’t watched it in years. But several years ago I caught some reruns on a normal TV station (edited with bleeps!). I happened to catch the episode about Guitar Hero. (Incidentally I had been playing guitar hero). The South Park kids were obsessed with playing the game. In the midst of one of their gaming marathons, one of the dads begins to rock out on a real guitar to show them that he can actually play songs on a real guitar. They are indifferent. They continue with their game (which ends disappointingly!).

I got the message. Why would you play Guitar Hero when you could spend that time actually learning to play the guitar? I went and bought a guitar the next day and made a rash vow (nod to Chesterton) to learn to play it (and get rid of Guitar Hero). And I did. And I’m thankful. It’s not the same, and we all know it. Both Guitar Hero and an actual guitar involve skills. But one is truly incarnate (in the sense of truly embodied, though not divine); the other is dis-incarnate. One is hardwood reality; the other is pure fantasy. One is to gather around the living room and make melodies; the other is to gather around the TV and push buttons. One is tangible yet soulful; the other is neither (at least in the fullest sense).

If that is the case with guitars, how much more so with violence. Here’s the answer to my own objection above. First, if we are incarnating ourselves into video games, then we are guilty of the sin of the characters we embody. Not so with a book, because we do not ’embody’ the characters (generally speaking). No one is going to own up to this idea that we sin in our characters’ sinning. Which means that we have to deny that we are incarnating ourselves into the games. And if that is the case, then we are in the process of dis-incarnation – abandoning our fleshly existence for a digital quasi-reality. Books not only have spines, they have flesh and bones. What about games? Have they moved you to tears? Compelled you to love your neighbor? Caused you to strive to be a better flesh and bones (and soul) human being?

Those are my (very rough) musings. My thoughts need some major refining. I would also add that violent games (especially relating to war) tend to be used to fill some innate need in aggressive males. And I try to remind young guys that there are real battles to be fought in their own lives, even outside of military contexts. Spiritual warfare is a reality. Video games might even be a part of it. Thoughts?

‘Living Into Focus’ Discussion: Part 3 (Ch. 8ff.)

Here is our thread for continued discussion of Living Into Focus by Arthur Boers. Here we’ll start covering chapter 8 and see how far we can get before the comments get crowded enough to make another thread. I found chapters 8-10 to be one of the most (maybe the most) thought-provoking sections of the entire book. This should be interesting.

I am enjoying reading the comments and sharing thoughts. It has been edifying.

On Civilization Outrunning Culture

Ken Myers shares an extremely interesting quote from Oliver O’Donovan (see his original post HERE). I remember also that he mentioned the same quote somewhere in All God’s Children and Blue Suede Shoes. Regardless, here is the quote:

The word ‘tradition,’ like koinonia, refers both to an action and a possession. In the first sense it is the activity by which one shares in the community, receiving and contributing. In the second sense it is the reserve of practices and communicative patterns received from the past — but only those which continue to command recognition, that is, which have been effectively communicated down to the present time. The essential thing about tradition is that it creates social continuity. It binds the communal action of the present moment to the communal actions of past moments. What we often call ‘traditionalism,’ the revival of lapsed tradition, is, properly speaking, a kind of innovation, making a new beginning out of an old model. This may or may not be sensible in any given instance, but it is not a tradition. The claim of tradition is not the claim of the past over the present, but the claim of the present to that continuity with the past which enables common action to be conceived and executed.

The paradigm command of tradition is, ‘Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long in the land which the Lord your God gives you.’ It appears to our eyes to be concerned with the duties of children, but this is a mistake. The duties of children are purely responsive to the duty of parents to be to their children what their parents were to them. This is a command addressed to adults, whose existence in the world is not self-posited but the fruit of an act of cultural transmission, which they have a duty to sustain. The act of transmission puts us all in the place of receiver and communicator at once. The household is envisaged as the primary unit of cultural transmission, the ‘father and the mother’ as representing every existing social practice which it is important to carry on. Only so can community sustain itself within its environment, ‘the land which the Lord your God gives you.’ No social survival in any land can be imagined without a stable cultural environment across generations. By tradition society identifies itself from one historical moment to the next, and so continues to act as itself. . .

The peculiar value of art to tradition lies in its capacity to elicit recognitions, reminding us of the sources of our cultural objects within the structures of natural necessity. This power of reminiscence we call ‘beauty,’ and it arises from the coincidence of natural order with artificial form. Both poles, the natural and the conventional, are essential to an art form, that the evocation of the one within the other may be experienced. Formal qualities are as important as substantive references in evoking the presence of nature in culture. A poem may allude to springtime, or a tune may imitate birdsong. But an abstract fugue evokes nature, too, by exploring the power of repetition in difference, and a sonnet by its balance of thesis development, and resolution.

— from Oliver O’Donovan, Common Objects of Love: Moral Reflection and the Shaping of Community (Eerdmans, 2002)

In the previous post (HERE), we noted Martin Luther King, Jr.’s comment about modern America (in his day): “We have allowed our civilization to outrun our culture” (from Keep Moving from this Mountain, HERE). As soon as I read that line, my mind immediately went to O’Donovan’s application of the fifth commandment. Civilization outrunning culture is what happens when people (I do not say children only) do not honor their fathers and mothers.

This entails more than a simple lip service to our biological parents. It involves what O’Donovan calls ‘cultural transmission.’ We are moving at such a pace that culture is here and gone before there is any chance of transmission. Hence there is little stability. Hence how can we expect to thrive?

I think this might be pressing the fifth commandment to its interpretational limits. Yet I think it is a valid interpretation for this reason: most people, including myself, generally refer to the 10 Commandments in Exodus 20. We forget that they are restated, during Moses’ summary sermon, in Deuteronomy 5. The fifth commandment is restated in 5:16:

Honor your father and your mother, as the Lord your God has commanded you, so that you may live long and that it may go well with you in the land the Lord your God is giving you.

Now, if you are familiar with Deuteronomy, then you probably know what follows chapter 5 – the famous ‘Shema’ of Deuteronomy 6. Deuteronomy 6 is the great chapter focusing on the central doctrine and practice of Israel. Any careful reading will also reveal that it is Israel’s central text relating to the subject of ‘cultural transmission.’ Chapter 6 begins with the words,

Now this is the commandment, the statutes and the rules that the Lord your God commanded me to teach you, that you may do them in the land to which you are going over, to possess it, that you may fear the Lord your God, you and your son and your son’s son, by keeping all his statutes and his commandments, which I command you, all the days of your life, and that your days may be long (vv. 1-2).

Next comes the ‘Shema,’ followed by these words:

 And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates (vv. 6-9).

Thus far my justification for the validity of this application.

Culture-building involves progress. I often refer to C.S. Lewis’ point that progress entails both a starting point and a destination. Progress builds on what has come before, and builds toward a goal or destination. Therefore, when we cut ourselves off from tradition and from the ‘ancient paths’ we eliminate the very possibility of progress. We may be doing something entirely new, but it does not entail progress. In fact, I think, it entails regress, as though we were starting from scratch when the wisdom of the running centuries awaits to be built upon. This is why I detest the idea of ‘creating a new church.’ I have dear friends who have bought into this notion. They want ‘a new idea of church.’ They are letting their civilization outrun their culture. In fact, they are essentially abandoning culture. They do not believe in cultural transmission. They are good (albeit passe) post-moderns who think we have to ditch everything and start over. Yet they will be offended when someone ditches them and does it their own way. But I digress.

Let me make a quick point of this. In regards to technology, which is the context of our posts as of late, we must be careful that we are using our gadgets to build upon what we have rather than to start over. And if we are using them to build, we must be careful that we are not using them as bulldozers to tear down the progress that has already been made. Can we pour the new wine of technology into old wineskins without the wineskins bursting? We must be very careful. This will take wisdom; likely ancient wisdom.

Part of that wisdom is that we must honor our fathers and mothers. If we are using technology to cast off all traditional forms, then we are missing the mark. If we are using it in such a way that it honors the spirit of the fifth commandment, then I think we are making progress. The can of worms is now open; I’ve made zero concrete applications; I’ve only established a principle. It’s enough to think about for a while.

The main point for the time being is that we cannot be set on ‘Go, go, go!’ When we put the pedal to the metal we let our civilization outrun our culture. And this means that the beauty of culture is left in the dust. Is it any wonder that we are all busy and dizzy and feeling rather unclean?

“We have allowed our technology to outdistance our theology” (Living Into Focus)

In the comments on our discussion of Living Into Focus, Brian listed this quote:

It is easy to find ourselves in the predicament Martin Luther King Jr long ago described: ‘We have allowed our technology to outrun our theology’ (p. 69).

I also found that quote thought-provoking, and decided to do some digging. The footnote mentions that the Martin Luther King Jr. quote came from a secondary source (Richard Lischer, The End of Words: The Language of Reconciliation in a Culture of Violence, p. 17). Interestingly, the quote is actually on page 16 of that book (at least that’s how Google lists it) and does not cite where the phrase came from. (Footnotes can be an interesting adventure). It appears that the ‘quotation’ is actually a paraphrase of “We have allowed our technology to outdistance our theology” (perhaps MLJ said it different ways at different times). Anyway, I do believe I found the original written source of the idea. It comes from a talk MLJ gave at a Jewish synagogue in Hollywood, California in 1965 (I’ve provided a link below).

The context of the quote is actually better than the quote itself, which is saying something:

I’m talking about practical materialism — the notion that causes individuals to live as if material values are the only values and concerns in life. Each of us lives in two realms, the “within” and the “without.” The within of our lives is somehow found in the realm of ends, the without in the realm of means. The within of our [lives], the bottom — that realm of spiritual ends expressed in art, literature, morals, and religion for which at best we live. The without of our lives is that realm of instrumentalities, techniques, mechanisms by which we live. Now the great temptation of life and the great tragedy of life is that so often we allow the without of our lives to absorb the within of our lives. The great tragedy of life is that too often we allow the means by which we live to outdistance the ends for which we live. And how much of our modern life can be summarized in that arresting dictum of the poet Thoreau, “Improved means to an unimproved end?” We have allowed our civilization to outrun our culture; we have allowed our technology to outdistance our theology and for this reason we find ourselves caught up with many problems. Through our scientific genius we made of the world a neighborhood, but we failed through moral commitment to make of it a brotherhood, and so we’ve ended up with guided missiles and misguided men. And the great challenge is to move out of the mountain of practical materialism and move on to another and higher mountain which recognizes somehow that we must live by and toward the basic ends of life. We must move on to that mountain which says in substance, “What doth it profit a man to gain the whole world of means — airplanes, televisions, electric lights — and lose the end: the soul?”

-Martin Luther King, Jr., Keep Moving From This Mountain, (emphasis added) Available Online HERE

In the sermon, MLK is going after the ideologies of his times. He likens these ideologies to ‘mountains’ that we need to ‘move on from.’ The particular mountain dealt with in the above paragraph is ‘practical materialism.’ Could this really be any more relevant? It’s more relevant now than it was then to be sure. Especially poignant is the line:

Through our scientific genius we made of the world a neighborhood, but we failed through moral commitment to make of it a brotherhood, and so we’ve ended up with guided missiles and misguided men.

To paraphrase, we have a global village, but not a global family. We have guided missiles and misguided men. That’s the kind of wordsmithy paradox that gets me going. Equally good is the idea that civilization has outrun culture.

I am playing around, at the moment, with working out some thinking about the paradox of our concern with climate change in relation to the fact that we are unconcerned with how culture itself (a climate to be sure) is changing. Tomorrow I am going to post something on the fifth commandment that is relevant to this point.

But, for now, I am curious if my commenters have any ideas for such wordsmithy paradoxes related to technology and modern culture(?). Let me know if you have any thoughts.

Finite Focus (Living Into Focus)

Tom Vanderbilt notes that the more info one is faced with, the less respect and attention one gives. Walter Kirn claims that ‘researchers estimate that the average city dweller is exposed to 5,000 ads per day, up from 2,000 per day three decades ago.’ We are inundated. It becomes hard to know what is important, what is a priority, what is crucial. As we add distracting technologies into our lives, the flood grows. The truth, as Csikszentmihalyi and Rochberg-Halton remind us, is that we all have limits to our ability to pay attention; it is a ‘finite resource. At any given moment we are incapable of focusing on more than a few bits of information at a time.’

-Arthur Boers, Living Into Focus, p. 85

Focus is finite. I like that phrase.

My mind goes to my incessant desire to multitask. My job demands it. My schedule demanded it for the past two years.

Sunday, while driving two hours to preach at a rural church, I followed my regular routine. I downloaded a C.S. Lewis book to listen to during the drive. I stopped at my regular gas stop. There’s a TV at the pump. It mostly shows commercials, but it reminds me of Back to the Future 2, which makes it interesting. I was already multitasking: driving and listening to my MP3 player. Then I found that I couldn’t hear my MP3 player over the ads on the gas pump TV. I don’t even know why I just told that story. It seems related to the subject somehow.

We are not God. There is a God, and I am not him. I therefore am not infinite, and never will be. Why can’t I accept that fact? Because, as Calvin says, the human heart is an idol-factory. So, herein lies a paradox. The sooner I accept that my ability to focus is finite, the more productive it will be, for it will be working within the context in which it is meant to work. Focus entails acknowledging that I am limited. I am not omniscient, I am not omnipotent. I do not have the power to gain all knowledge. I do not have the resources to hear every prayer from every human being at one in the same time. I am not God. Time constrains me, space constrains me, weakness constrains me.

Find your limits, confess your limits, work within your limits; then you will have freedom. The freedom of marriage comes from making a commitment to limit yourself to one spouse. Intimacy comes only after such a commitment has been made. Such is also the case with focus. You will find depth when you are willing to limit the subjects of your thoughts. You will find intimacy with ideas when you commit to focusing on those ideas.

Girding Up the Loins of Your Mind in an ADD Culture (Living Into Focus)

A key human capacity, one that has always been understood as crucial to spiritual life – the ability to pay attention – is being attenuated…

William McNamara vividly described contemplation as ‘long, leisurely, loving looks at the real.’ Weil wrote: ‘Prayer consists of attention. It is the orientation of all the attention of which the soul is capable toward God’…

The priority of careful observation is contradicted by our ‘systemic distraction’ culture. We live in an age of technologically induced and reinforced attention deficit disorder. Maggie Jackson bluntly writes, ‘We are on the verge of losing our capacity as a society for deep, sustained focus.’ It is sobering to be reminded by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi and Eugene Rochberg-Halton that most psychological pathologies ‘are characterized by “disorders of attention'” and then to consider how our attention may be misdirected and malformed by technology.

-Arthur Boers, Living Into Focus, p. 84

First, my experiences, almost on a daily basis, confirm Boers’ points here. Several of his phrases are helpful:

1. Our ability to pay attention is being attenuated: Our attention span is like Bilbo Baggins: “I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread.”

2. We live in a culture of systematic distraction: Don’t you get tired of seeing screens everywhere you look?

Second, the point about Attention Deficit (induced and reinforced by technology) is interesting. With my background in psychology and pharmacy, I could go on an epic rant about this, but I won’t (it’s amazing how quickly people get offended when dealing with this subject). Suffice it to say that our culture is creating A.D.D. in us all. Let’s just pray that we don’t all end up on medication. There is a more excellent way.

The more excellent way (of 1 Corinthians 13 fame) is the way of love. Love is attentive, even poetically attentive. Love is not distracted, it is inspired. If it takes its attention off of something, it is only because that thing has inspired it to raise its attention to something higher.

I’ll write more about this. For the time being, I simply want to express my amen to the quote above, and remind myself, and my discussion partners, that we are called to gird up the loins of our minds (1 Peter 1:13) in the midst of this ADD culture. The question then becomes, How are we going to go about doing that?