These aren’t just any games. More than merely “fun,” they resonate with the life, message or values of Jesus himself. We think that’s worth celebrating.

“In the course of our short time with these two brothers, we see them learn to see each other as more than mere mortals and this changes the way we play.”

Brothers (PC, Xbox 360, Playstation 3)

There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations – these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub and exploit – immortal horrors or everlasting splendors. This does not mean that we are to be perpetually solemn. We must play. But our merriment must be of that kind (and it is, in fact, the merriest kind) which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously – no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption. – C. S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory

Jesus came from heaven to earth the change the fate of the world. He did this by waking us up to the reality that C.S. Lewis was struggling to articulate in his famous sermon, The Weight of Glory: we are not mere mortals. Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons, perhaps more than any game I have played before, illustrates this concept. It is a game about the spiritual impact we have on one another.

In Brothers, players control two brothers with one controller. Initially, controlling two avatars at once is difficult and confusing and this coincides with the brother’s relationship which is strained and arduous. Early on the two brothers find each other cumbersome–they see each other as obstacles to their joy. As players guide them through various adventures, however, their relationship is tested by trials. The two brothers are forced to lean on one another and recognize each other’s personal worth. In the course of our short time with these two brothers, we see them learn to see each other as more than mere mortals and this changes the way we play.

At the end of the game, the two brothers relationship is forever changed by fate and yet, they continue to lean on each other. No matter what life may bring, each is better because of the influence, impact, and love of the other. Thus, Brothers reminds us that everyone around us is eternal and though we may not always be together, the time we spend together has an impact that will carry on into eternity. -Drew Dixon

“You’re all alone in the house for the entirety of the game, but what you learn is that this building where your family resides may never work as a “home” for anyone.”

Gone Home (PC)

But we first know the concept of “home” in our immediate families: you grow up with your parents, your siblings, and this begins to feel like home.

In Gone Home, you take the role of one young lady who returns to her home to find out that such a place as ‘home’ can never be again. The game puts you into a first-person perspective in a fully interactive 3D world filled with books, audio cassette tapes, and other trinkets that prompt voiceover narrative. The investigative story uncovers the tale of a father, a mother, an estranged distant relative, and a younger sister who has chosen a path that may put her at odds with the rest of the family. You’re all alone in the house for the entirety of the game, but what you learn is that this building where your family resides may never work as a “home” for anyone. Not because it’s haunted, or because anyone died, just … because. The circumstances of life made it that way. -Patrick Gann

“. . . it cultivates in the player the creative imagination that accepts the possibility of rest.”

Kentucky Route Zero (PC)

Today’s troubles are enough to make us crazy. We know it, and Jesus knew it too: “Do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.” And yet, nothing is said of the past.

The reality is that so much of the damage done today is a direct result of the past. History, like the cave in which much of Kentucky Route Zero takes place, contains a vast network of passageways that connect and interact with one another. A loud noise in one place may result in disaster in another. And we’re still bearing the burden of the past, the ripples of a splash that began in the Garden of Eden when God cursed work and made it inherently tiring, exhausting, and just plain unfair.

Jesus tells us not to worry, not because he wants us to accept our situation, but because he promises to redeem it. “Come to me,” he says, “all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” He does this in the next life, and he does it in this one.

And Kentucky Route Zero, more than any game I have ever played, articulates that inherent need. Beyond that, it cultivates in the player the creative imagination that accepts the possibility of rest. A huge part of that rest is the sort of aesthetic beauty that is so stunningly present in Kentucky Route Zero. The world feels surreal because it is in fact a dream, but it is also, in this player’s opinion, a foreshadowing of a coming reality.

In much the same way as it happens in Kentucky Route Zero, we’ll be staring wearily at an old barn, desperate for answers, and slowly, thankfully, it will transform before our eyes into something otherworldly, something beautiful, something new. -Richard Clark

“Spaceteam’s simplicity and humor invites players who might otherwise have little in common to share in the experience of ridiculous space travel together.”

Space Team (iOS, Android)

Jesus’ story is one of a love that accepts all people, regardless of background. In a time when it was commonly accepted that one needed to be an Israelite to be beloved of God, Jesus openly ministered to Gentiles and Israelites alike – even to the hated Samaritans. All were welcome in God’s family. It is in this spirit of inclusivity that Jesus would love Spaceteam. The game mechanics are simple enough that there is little barrier to entry… All you need to play is an Android or iOS device and a willingness to frantically shout nonsense at your friends.

Jesus would also love Spaceteam because it brings people together in community. Gameplay is simple – your screen consists of a control panel containing dials, toggles, buttons, and sliders. Commands for piloting your ship appear on your screen, but the controls they tell you to adjust may appear on your friend’s screen rather than your own. Good communication is the key to success. Of course, “good” is a relative term as most sessions devolve quickly into chaotic yelling matches. Still, the point is clear: each member of your crew is essential.

One of the metaphors that the Bible uses for the Church community is a body. Just as a human body has many parts with different functions, all working together to form a whole, so a community has many individual members with different skills and passions who come together as a single family. Spaceteam’s simplicity and humor invites players who might otherwise have little in common to share in the experience of ridiculous space travel together. It’s even entertaining for spectators!

In short, Jesus loves hanging out with people, and he loves games that encourage community and teamwork. He would approve of a game where players must work together, or perish together… as a spaceteam! -April-Lyn Caouette

“Cart Life made me want to serve.”

Cart Life (PC)

“I did not come to be served but to serve and give my life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45). What makes the gospel scandalous is what makes Cart Life unique. Typically, games tend to serve the player. They exist so that the player can be entertained, have fun, unplug, and ultimately, win. Cart Life isn’t fun.

Melanie needed to open up a coffee cart and earn enough money to show that she was responsible enough to maintain dual custody of her daughter, Laura. In Cart Life, you don’t just lead Melanie in operating her street cart business. You live life for her. You have to decide between working late to make more money for the upcoming court date or meeting Laura after school to walk her home. When Melanie gets home, you have to decide whether or not to make a run to the store to purchase more supplies for the coffee shop.

The first time I did this, I found that the store was closed and had to walk back home. I didn’t get back until 2:00 A.M. Melanie overslept and missed the opportunity to walk her daughter to school. Melanie was failing as a barista and a mother and it was my fault.

I was determined to do better. I learned to watch the clock fastidiously so that I was on time to walk Laura home. I focused on making coffee faster and scheduled times to go to the store so as to make sure my supplies were well stocked to meet the needs of my regular customers. Cart Life made me want to serve. -Drew Dixon

“it’s about a heaven that requires a bit of imagination to believe — and yet one that feels as familiar as a walk in the park.”

Proteus (PC, Playstation 3, Playstation Vita)

Proteus is a game about heaven, but not the kind of heaven you may have learned about in Sunday School growing up. It doesn’t have pearly white gates or chubby angels sitting on clouds strumming harps. In one sense, it’s about a heaven that requires a bit of imagination to believe — and yet one that feels as familiar as a walk in the park.

But don’t be mistaken: the world you inhabit in Proteus is not much more than an island of chirpy sounds, cheery animals, and mystical natural elements. You won’t find much in the realm of hidden religious imagery or carvings of Jesus into the wood. What you will find, however, is an awe-inspiring audiovisual portrayal of the heaven that exists in every person’s heart. Beneath personal critiques of religion and the overwhelming brokenness of the world is every person’s desire to see the broken world we call home transformed into one that fully embraces the attributes of beauty, peace, harmony, and justice (i.e. the kingdom of God). It’s a game about existing in a world where everything is in its right place. It’s about the restoration of Shalom — and that, my friends, is what Jesus is really all about. -Luke Larsen

“Shelter’s lasting impact comes from dealing with loss.”

Shelter (PC, OS X)

Shelter casts you into the joys and terrors of single parenthood as a mother of six baby badgers. Jesus once compared himself to being a single animal mama who wanted to protect her babies from a hostile world. In Shelter, you forage and hunt for food for your young and guide them through high grass to hide from aerial predators. Jesus fed his disciples with spiritual nourishment and teaching, training them to overcome religious predators.

In the end, Shelter’s lasting impact comes from dealing with loss. I still remember the horrific cries of the pup I named Trinity as she was snatched by a bird of prey. Jesus knows more than a little bit about what it’s like to lose somebody. All of his disciples turned tail on him while he was at the cross. And when he came back to life, he found that many of them had given up hope altogether. But there was a handful who remained true. Like the mama badger in Shelter, Jesus stuck it out for the ones who remained so they could go on without him. -M. Joshua Cauller

“The faces of those who pass by your window are marked with fear and weariness. These are the faces of people to whom God’s kingdom is promised.”

Papers, Please (Windows, OS X)

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

In Papers, Please, you play the role of a border-crossing inspector in the fictional Soviet country of Arstotzka. Your work is to examine customs documents and decide whether or not to let people pass into the country based on the legitimacy of these papers. But those who pass through your booth are more than paperwork – they are human beings, each with a story to tell. On your shoulders rests the weight of whether or not to reunite families, shelter refugees, assist conspirators, and protect the weak, all while trying to earn enough money to feed, house, and provide medication for your family through the cold winter. Illness and death are never more than a few citations away.

Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.

Jesus teaches in his Sermon on the Mount that the kingdom of heaven does not belong to the wealthy or the powerful. Instead, it is the meek and the merciful who are blessed by God. Those who mourn, who are broken and poor in spirit. In Arstotzka, despair is an inevitable part of daily life. The faces of those who pass by your window are marked with fear and weariness. These are the faces of people to whom God’s kingdom is promised.

Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.

In the midst of this climate of fear and oppression, you as a player-character have a choice. Will you show mercy, or will you follow the letter of the law? Should you risk the health and safety of your family for that of strangers? Will you aid idealistic rebel organizations, or you will stay loyal to the government that provides your means of living?

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be be called sons of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Hope is hard to come by in Arstotzka, but just as Jesus’ mission on Earth was to bring a message of hope to a people who had none, Papers, Please teaches us that we find our humanity through our willingness to hope and to bring hope to others in the midst of desperation, regardless of how absurd that may seem. -April-Lyn Caouette

“Jesus would love Tomb Raider, because Tomb Raider shows us that even our heroes bleed.”

Tomb Raider (Windows, OS X, Playstation 3, Xbox 360)

In terms of plot you cannot get much more typical than Crystal Dynamic’s Tomb Raider reboot: The crash and the escape, the descent and the ascent, the lost and the found. But in terms of tone, no other AAA title this year (save, perhaps, close runner-up The Last of Us) was able to present so thoroughly heart-wrenching a tale of survival; of being and becoming.

Lara is a hero who is in pain. A hero who only truly becomes the hero by undergoing circumstances more horrible than most of us could ever comprehend. The animation team and voice actress Camilla Ludington did an incredible job of showing us a woman who is so strong, but nevertheless, so hurt. Despite the eventual dissonance of hunting through waves of foes mere hours after taking her first life, there were moments throughout Lara’s journey where her cries of pain seemed so real, I could hardly bear to see her continue suffering. Yet I pushed her onwards, and so she went.

As Lara makes her way from the blood-drenched depths of the island’s core upwards and upwards to it’s howling and craggy precipice, the mount becomes her Golgotha, and we the player the jeering crowd, demanding her further, deriving satisfaction from the suffering of another.

The Tomb Raider series is known for Lara. Strong Lara. Amazon Lara. But this entry shows us that she is human too.

Jesus would love Tomb Raider, because Tomb Raider shows us that even our heroes bleed. -Jordan Ekeroth

“And despite the questionable motives of the narrator, spending time with him will make you a better question asker.”

The Stanley Parable (Windows, OS X)

Jesus was of the mind that it’s always good to question religious tradition and the stories handed down to us. He often answered questions with questions not only because that’s what rabbis do, but because he really wanted to get at the truth of things.

The Stanley Parable’s narrator presents you with a story that may or may not be true. The player’s job is to test the parameters of that framework while questioning it at every end.

Jesus knows that the end of one thing isn’t the end of everything. There’s always more to the story. Since The Stanley Parable is about seeing multiple endings and using that to understand the overall framework of the narrative, Jesus might compare it to some of the endless circles the religious elite of his day would spin around in. Eventually, Jesus exposed the sinister hearts of those narrators until it led to his own bloody conclusion. But he still engaged with them, trying to find “good endings” as he did with Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea, two of the religious elite who followed Jesus in secret.

The Stanley Parable takes us down many branching paths. Trying to find the “one true path” might be an exercise in vanity. But the lasting impression that the game leaves with you is that it wants you to play, to engage, and question it. And despite the questionable motives of the narrator, spending time with him will make you a better question asker. And as with any great rabbi, Jesus loves when we ask good questions, even if they only lead to more questions. -M. Joshua Cauller

Before we share our annual list of ten games Jesus loves (here’s last year’s list), we wanted to come clean: Jesus didn’t hand down this list from on high. It is a hugely speculative list, a result of equal parts playful and serious-minded discussion among friends.

End of the year lists are a ridiculous notion already, but the list of Games Jesus Loves is simultaneously the most and least ridiculous list possible. On the one hand, Jesus is a real historical figure, one who is well-documented and explored by established texts. We know quite a bit about him, actually. On the other hand, that documentation took place during a time before videogames, or any kind of mass media at all for that matter. So it’s up to us to connect the dots, to brazenly speak for Jesus, and then to laugh it off and be like, “You know we’re kidding right?”

We thought we’d be as transparent as possible this year, letting you in on the process that resulted in our very own stone tablets. We didn’t get them from spending time on a mountain with God, we got them by spending time with one another over Skype. The way Jesus always intended, we guess?

If you don’t want spoilers, wait until tomorrow when we’ll publish the final list and then come back here and to hear how we got there. Either way, we think you’ll enjoy hearing our speculative discussions. Maybe next year Jesus will save us some time and meet with us on a mountain somewhere.

Featuring:

Drew Dixon, editor-in-chief

Richard Clark, managing editor

Jordan Ekeroth, community manager

M. Joshua Cauller, writer

photo credit: cogdogblog via photopin cc

Each level starts with an open flower. The music is soft, inviting, even playful. “The flower is blank,” the game guides you. “But it enjoys color.” Touching buds along the edges of the petals fills the flower satisfyingly with bright, solid hues. But doing so also hastens the end of the level. As you touch more buds, the color and music become more intense. Dreamlike female voices sing, breath, and sigh. As you travel along, words appear and fade in the center of the screen, like passing thoughts. “Grip my petals,” the words say. “Turn me around.” “It’s never been this good.”

As you reach the end of the level, the music reaches the height of its energy, and the walls of the flower-tunnel start to pulse and vibrate. Then, suddenly, the music reaches its climax, and passes into silence as the screen fades to white. “Yes.” The message appears, briefly. “That was sublime!” It’s almost impossible to even describe the experience without using sexual language. After my first playthrough, I found myself blushing, somewhat glad that I was alone in the apartment. I felt like I needed a cold shower.

For the first few levels, I enjoyed a sense of exploration. The score counter is unobtrusive in the top left corner, and I later discovered that it vanishes if you click on it, making the sense of freedom even more complete. The game concept is so novel, and so beautiful, that I was satisfied to simply immerse myself in experimentation.

But once the initial novelty wore off, I started to wonder, “Okay, now what?” On the main navigation screen, I noticed an icon in the upper corner that I hadn’t clicked yet. Clicking it gave me a sideways perspective of what I had just assumed was a circular arrangement of the various levels I could play. From the side, it now appeared as a sort of Grecian temple, with each level represented by a pillar. The pillars representing levels I had played were each filled with various levels of color, like a bar graph. After playing another level, I realized that there was a connection between my score and how much color filled that pillar. My focus immediately shifted. I was no longer simply enjoying an experience: I was playing a game. I began to work on my strategy, examining each level to determine what techniques would be most effective. For some, touching along the inside of the flower in a rapid spiral was best. For others, the buds were laid out in lines, but in such a way that I needed to pause frequently, or the color would fill much too quickly for an optimal score. I began to listen for clues in the music, to watch the words I was seeing, to take note of how “satisfied” the game seemed to be at the end of each level. Does “That was magical!” mean I did more or less well than when it was “sublime”?

Our society has become obsessed with the idea of pleasing our sexual partners. Walk past the register of any grocery store and you will see dozens of magazines promising new ways for women to excite their lovers. Our inboxes are overflowing with spam messages that promise more, better, and more satisfying sex, and what’s more, that our partners will love us for it. The message is clear: we need to be good at sex. Not only good: the best. Our relationships and our reputations depend on it.

So we read the articles to help improve our technique. We laugh at the horrible spam messages, but wonder whether maybe we should be doing something differently. Are we truly having the best sex we could be having? Is there a method we haven’t tried yet? Is our partner really going to lose interest in us if we’re not good enough in bed?

When we see sex as a competition with the health of our relationships as the stakes, we start to treat our loved ones as puzzles to solve, as objects rather than human beings. We begin to see relationship as a matter of cause and effect, and lose sight of what real intimacy looks like. Rather than pursuing intimacy as a shared experience, we look for clues and signposts to show us when we’re “doing it right”, all the while nursing a nagging feeling that we’re still not quite good enough.

Luxuria Superbia has no clear way of indicating whether you’re “doing it right”. After playing all twelve levels, I still have no greater understanding of whether I’m “winning”, or whether there even is a way to win. Some of my pillars have more color than others. I can’t find a way to see what my numerical score for each stage was, so all I can do is to play each level again and see if the pillars fill with more color.

Surprisingly, now that I’ve played through all the levels, rather than feeling a need to be “better” my sense of wonder is returning. I’m discovering details in each flower that I didn’t notice before, and layers to the music I was too busy to hear when I was focused on improvement. I’m still curious about the pillars, but I’m satisfied to discover their mysteries as I go. I’m learning to be playful again.

We’re all building our own Netflix-esque library of games for on demand playing, a slew of titles that we can pick up and play when the mood hits us. Buying a game these days is less an unequivocal vote of confidence as it is an opportunity for risk-analysis. “What if I someday get the urge to aim a flashlight at monsters and shoot them while being fed tidbits of a story that I kind of liked? Yes, yes, I had better go ahead and snatch up Alan Wake’s American Nightmare now while it’s cheaper than usual.” (By the way, Steam tells me that I’ve played American Nightmare for exactly 0.7 hours since I bought it seven months ago, and that’s a better than usual case scenario.)

When the Black Friday tidal wave hit, I was flooded with opportunities to fill my brand new PS Vita with a ton of new games. I took that opportunity with gusto. I’ve been enamored for a while with the Vita and the idea of playing some of my favorite games from the comfort of my bed or couch or favorite chair or from the church pew (no, not really from the church pew). I bought six games I already own in some other form (one I had already bought twice before – darn you Spelunky!) just so I could play them on the Vita wherever I want. Or, more accurately, just in case I wanted to play them wherever I want.

Now that the Steam sale is over and I’ve bought out the Playstation store’s Vita section, I’m left asking a hard question. With nothing more to purchase, and no more funds to spend, what am I supposed to do with myself now?

I decided to observe Advent more proactively this year partially because I want to counteract this greedy impulse. My life is filled with so much stuff that I don’t even have the time to use it. My devices are filled with so many games that I don’t even have time to play them. My mind is full of so much busyness and aspiration that I don’t even have time to be thankful. This advent, I want to set aside time to appreciate, to give thanks, and yes, to play.

So almost every day this month, I’m going to read a bit of the story of Christmas. I’m going to thank God for his many profound gifts. I’m going to embrace that that seasonal concept of coping and appreciating the small blessings I’ve been given, just as Mary and Joseph gave thanks for a stable in which to give birth; some hay to rest in; animals to keep them company; humble gifts from those who visited. What I have is enough.

And I’m going to play. I’ll play a bit of Persona 4: Golden each day, allowing myself to become deeply invested in the lives of these high-schoolers moonlighting as fantasy heroes. I’ll immerse myself regularly in Tearaway, delighting in a game that delights in its player. In the nights I’ll wind down playing Knytt Underground, and maybe by Christmas I can finish that game. I doubt it, though, it’s huge.

Finally, I’ll put the games away, give thanks yet again, and sleep in heavenly peace.

photo credit: jbhthescots via photopin cc

Jeff picked the chakram disk and became our bread and and butter. I marked the enemies with my fast jabby daggers. Alex donned the hammer and discovered he could knock foes into the week after next. James snagged the bow and picked dudes off while getting into position across the map for a crucial pass to receive the spirit guide, our all-important ball.

The spirit guide sets Forced apart from any other co-op game I’ve played.  It activates every interactive component to the game. All of us have a button to call it to our current location from where it currently floats. Anything it passes through, it activates. It tears down enemy spawn stations the moment it touches them. Health pools only activate when the spirit guide gets close (at which time it’s our job to get within the healing radius). Movable blocks can only be moved when the spirit guide lands in the block’s holster. And many bosses require unique spirit ball interactions.

We started yelling at one another because one of us would call the spirit guide just as another needed it. I’d yank it to myself just as Alex needed it to trigger the healing well. Jeff would call it across the screen and forget that in that particular arena, it was pulling the protective safe-zone, leaving James out to dry. Since we didn’t want to murder one another, we eventually learned to warn one another the moment we needed the spirit guide. In this way, Forced exposed how poorly we worked with one another and asked us to strengthen our communication skills.

Desperation and teamwork carried us through the whole experience. It’s not the first game to require teamwork. But the mix of puzzles, class-based combat, a shared experience pool, and the sheer craziness of overcoming a plethora of simultaneous challenges cemented within us the joy of interdependence.

Forced’s Danish development team, Beta Dwarf, knows what how to depend on one another while struggling through a dozen conflicting obstacles at the same time. After illegally squatting in a university for seven months, they got kicked out and moved into a tiny house together. They ate, slept, worked, and did everything together, depending on one another for everything. The core of that interdependent experience seems to have oozed into the core of Forced’s gameplay. It’s noticeable within the first half hour of play.

Since Beta Dwarf’s lifestyle of interdependence transmitted into the game, there’s a sure chance that playing the game will translate into real-world team-player qualities.

In the community of faith, we say that we need one another; each person is a part of our whole. If somebody gets sick, we work together to provide food and hospital visits. Or that if one person is particularly gifted, say at encouraging others, we give them a platform to speak into people’s lives and encourage the downtrodden. Forced illustrates this mechanically. And it does this more than any other co-op game I’ve played. The team puzzle-solving required communication. The passing of the spirit-guide obligated patience. And when every player worked to the best of their ability to overcome some super challenging arenas, we all had big stupid grins on our faces.

1) Real people played together.

The generation of the Xbox and Playstation 2 were all about the individual player alone in his room, but the Nintendo Wii’s low cost and intuitive control scheme meant that anyone could play it. The Wii’s extreme and surprising commercial success in its launch period flowed from the widespread embrace of Wii Sports, an unassuming collection of five games that grandparents, kids, and anyone in between found engaging. During a time when Sony and Microsoft were gearing up for an all-out graphics war, this was a game-changer that reinforced the notion that community was what mattered. People wanted to play with their friends again, in real life, in the same room. When it came to play, people wanted to be together.

2) Community mattered.

During this generation, Xbox Live exploded in popularity. The Xbox 360’s online service may have required an extra monthly charge, but it demolished the Playstation 3 in both numbers and customer satisfaction because it offered the easiest and simplest ways to interact with existing friends. Party chat in particular enabled up to 8 people to talk to one another no matter what they were doing. This changed our concept of what online gaming was about. No longer about merely demolishing strangers, online gaming was about teaming up with our favorite acquaintances, family, and friends and sharing moments together.

3) Games became art.

I feel stupid even writing that sentence. In videogame criticism circles, this is considered so obvious as to be unutterable, like pointing out in a culinary review that chicken can be food. But that’s a testimony to how far we’ve come, because when this generation started, even those who loved videogames treated them as a sport or toy — as a way to blow off steam after a hard day’s work. But as cheaper downloadable games became more available, they were no longer forced to justify a $50-$60 price tag. No longer limited to large risk-averse developers, individuals started making smart, risky, personal games that changed our concepts of what games could do. And then, Braid, Jonathon Blow’s opus, sold 55,000 copies in its first week of release, meaning these games could not only be sold, they could be successful. From then on, the floodgates opened, and out came some of the most beautiful and artistically engaging games ever seen.

These three points encompass a whole sea change, a myriad of changes in attitudes and expectations related to the videogame industry and artform. It’s the generation that renewed my interest in games, and I suspect it did the same for many others. After a years-long creative drought, videogames — though not perfect by any means — have revived themselves by moving the focus from computer processors and features, to human beings.

photo credit: Sherif Salama via photopin cc

This piece was originally published at Christ and Pop Culture. 

At Gamechurch, we assume from the outset that games have value–that they can be a positive force in the lives of human beings. Like other art forms, they can bring us together, give us a common vernacular, and even give us insight in our lives and the lives of those around us. We believe that games have something to say and they are worth exploring and criticizing and questioning to try to get to the bottom of what that is.

But Tim Challies offers up an entirely different set of assumptions:

Video games offer the action and adrenaline missing from our lives. But even more significantly, video games offer the allure of accomplishment, the allure of greatness. We don’t play games to lose, but to win. We don’t play to be the vanquished but the vanquisher. We play to triumph, to conquer, to overthrow and overcome, to do the things that are so far outside our experience of life.

I do think this is one appeal of videogames and that this appeal is potentially problematic. The problem is that most of the people I know who play videogames would reject this appeal. They are not so childish as to think that our on screen accomplishments have lasting value. The reasons my friends play games are incredibly diverse. They play them because games produce interesting conversations, bring us together, make us think, and challenge our assumptions. Sure, sometimes we play because we need a break from the real world, but given the world we live in, I can’t envision taking such a break being categorically unwise.

Many tend to speak of playing videogames and loving one’s family as mutually exclusive activities. The people I know who play games, however, are aware that the list of things that are more important than games is long and that their real life marriages, families, and relationships are more important than their gaming time.

But Challies’ concern is that:

There is no reward, no medal or badge or accolade, in serving the people of your church by putting out the chairs or cleaning up the post-potluck mess. There is no hero’s parade at the end of it. But this is the essence of true greatness. And this is the greatness our games can never deliver. To the contrary, this is the very greatness our games may cause us to miss altogether.

I am not sure I am comfortable comparing the value of the friendships I have formed and the conversations I have had because of playing videogames with the value of cleaning up after church potluck. Like any other piece of art or social experience we might enjoy, games have value–they can bring joy to our lives, give us something important to talk about, and even help us empathize with the experiences of others. Games have done all these things and more for me and many of my friends that enjoy them. Games don’t cause us to miss these things. They enrich them.

My guess is that Challies has never played a game like Sweatshop, the iOS game that raises awareness about real life sweatshops in the world. He has probably never played Papers, Please the incredibly ambitious indie game that gives players a glimpse into the harsh realities of life for many during the cold war. He has probably never had the experience of working on communication with friends while playing Spaceteam or learning teamwork while playing Bari Bari Ball or Hokra.These are just a handful of meaningful game experiences I have personally had recently but the list could go on and on.

I suppose there are people who play games because of the allure of greatness. Like anything else in the world, videogames certainly can be and often are used in an unhealthy manner by those that play them. That reality doesn’t change their inherent value or the myriad of worthwhile reasons people might play them.

While some continue talking to each other about how reading the Bible and praying are more valuable than gaming, we will continue inviting anyone who is interested to talk about why games matter, why we love and hate them, and what that says about us as human beings.

photo credit: jDevaun via photopin cc

Though not a sufferer of depression, Irritum made me feel depressed, hopeless and alone. I suddenly realized I was being given a rare opportunity to understand I struggle I have never had. I was being given a glimpse of life in the shoes of someone suffering depression.

Irritum begins as the game’s protagonist has committed suicide off-screen. The puzzle/platformer takes place in a type of limbo where you must navigate the glowing platforms suspended over nothingness to collect glowing orbs, each which activate a single, fuzzy memory of your former life and the events that lead up to the avatar’s decision to end it.

You are alone in your journey except for two angel/demon beings, both urging you to either give up or question your motives for learning the truth of why you chose to commit suicide.These beings are named Cassus and Sollus, from Latin meaning “empty” and “alone” respectively. The game’s title, Irritum, itself recalls from Latin, “nothingness”.

The demon specters you meet along the way question you, even taunt you on your difficult quest to discover why you chose to give up on life, why you gave into the hopelessness. Yet even in death, playing the game itself is a form of hope, an unspoken assumption that if you can somehow defeat this hell’s challenges and reach the end, things will turn out, you will be brought back to life.

But that is not the case here. Even if you manage to navigate through the perilous twisting platforms suspended in darkness, the game suggests firmly that suicide carries a horrifying finality, there is no coming back.

The oppressive narrative, excruciating difficulty and unhelpful, discouraging “guides” work together to create a picture of living with depression. Some particular “memories” are so devilishly hard to reach, requiring you to balance on a razor’s edge where a millimeter in either direction results in being sent back to a checkpoint. Sometimes after 10, 20 even 30 tries I had to quietly accept defeat, overcome my obsessive compulsion and move on glumly with an incomplete score for that level. And the brutal difficulty of the mechanics is only compounded by the taunts from the demons to give up.

The hope I had after my 22nd attempt, by 30 was utterly gone.

Collecting the memories themselves is interesting, but also unpleasant, do I really want to remember why the main character wanted to end her or his life? Perhaps it mirrors the pain of choosing whether to embrace life’s hard realities or try and forget or ignore them, and focus only on making it through the level to the next, like a depression sufferer devoting all they have on just getting through the day.

I chose to collect as many memories as possible, piecing together a troubled life that could lead to suicidal thoughts, but the overwhelming difficulty often made me question giving up, even as I soldiered on. But as the game only becomes more complicated, more difficult and failure more painful, it took more and more mental power to continuing trying again where I had failed dozens of times.

Quitting the game kept feeling like a more and more viable option, perhaps even a relief.

However, even if you do trudge on and beat the game, you do not come back to life. The decision your avatar made before the game starts is permanent, in the world of Irritum death is final. While playing I have gained more empathy for someone suffering depression, and a reinforced idea that suicide is horrible and final. And with this newfound empathy, maybe I can better understand the pain of depression, and better love those that know this demon all too well.

Here at Gamechurch we believe Jesus loves people who are depressed, who struggle with suicidal thoughts, and want you to know there is hope. It matters which voice you listen to, and that there is a third option, even in though the limbo where Irritum takes place is filled with two voices offering the same despair.

“If you ask me to end this now, I will. Face it; this challenge is too much for you to overcome. Not everyone is created equal,” Cassus says.

Sollus says, “This has to be something you need to finish alone. I am only here to guide you.”

In the end, neither prove to be trustworthy. The challenges you face in your life, in your city, in your situation may be too much for you to overcome, but that’s not because you were created unequal to someone who seems to have it all together.

Cassus was wrong, and so was Sollus, this is not something you need to fight alone. Sometimes we can’t save ourselves.

Spaceteam is a free four player local cooperative multiplayer game for iOS and Android devices that brings people together and forces them to interact in unique and insightful ways. We recently had the opportunity to chat with Smith about the social elements of Spaceteam, the current state of the App Store, and spirituality.

What core beliefs motivate you?

One of the reasons I make games in the first place is because I think a lot of people in the world in general have lost their sense of wonder and play. As they grow up they lose that sense of wonder as they stop playing and stop being amazed by things the way a five year old kid is. I think that’s unfortunate because there is still so much that is incredibly amazing in the world. I think maybe we would appreciate it more if we played more.

I think games are a really good way of getting back to that sense of connectivity, of getting together, so yeah, I think games provide a way of connecting us that other media do not, like books or movies for instance.

Yeah I can see how that was an influence with Spaceteam. I played Spaceteam not too long ago with my mom and my dad–I immediately felt like I could play that game with anyone.

Yeah I know. It was kind of strange to have Spaceteam featured at the IGF among so many indie games that are weird and niche and only a few people know about them. That is why they need to be recognized by a festival like the IGF, but Spaceteam seems to be so mainstream in weird way. It feels like so many different types of people have picked it up and been able to play it–students and parents and teachers. I have even talked to employers who have used it in interviews to teach communication in high stress environments.

Team building?

Exactly. And yeah I get told a lot by people who enjoy the game that they are not “gamers” but they love Spaceteam and have introduced it to their friends. It’s got this weird broad appeal.

Do you have a role model?

Oh man. I don’t think I have any one role model. I have a lot of people I look up to. I really look up to Steven Fry, who had a comedy duo in England with Hugh Laurie. In fact, one of their sketches was in a hardware store where there was all this strange hardware strewn about and that was one of the inspirations for Spaceteam.

I love Terry Gilliam’s movies. I am a big fan of his stuff. Douglas Adams who wrote Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, I am a big fan of his. So yeah I get inspiration from all sorts of people in all sorts of different ways.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2nS4molyLlE

How do you feel about games addressing religious or philosophical themes?

I think we need more of them. Games are a really interesting way of telling a story or sharing an experience. Games go about telling a story in a way that other mediums can’t because you’re involved, you’re interacting, you’re playing that role rather than just observing. I think its a really compelling way to tell stories and I think we need more of that.

I think people need to do away with this stigma that games are just for fun and for kids and stuff. I think games really can make really powerful statements about the world and beliefs and messages. I think a lot of games in the IGF like Dys4ia and Cart Life have strong messages that are about more than just fun. They are games with a voice that needs to be heard.

Are there any games that you feel handle those issues well–issues of religion and philosophy?

There are certainly, but it is interesting because on the App Store at least, Apple has policy where you are not really allowed to make political or social commentary in your game. They say if you want to do that stuff, write a book. I think that is really damaging and cuts a lot of those types of games out of the market. So sadly I don’t see a lot of those types of games on iPhone. I am sure there are a lot on other platforms, but none are coming to mind at the moment.

Yeah I was really frustrated when Apple took Sweatshop off the App Store.

Yeah exactly, we need games like that. Games should have messages. Games should say something.

Have you gotten any feedback from religious people on Spaceteam?

As far as I know, they love it just as much as anyone else does. I mean, I have seen a lot of people on Twitter that are quite religious that say lots of nice things about it. My girlfriend loves it, she is not super religious but she is very spiritual and I am somewhat spiritual too. I don’t associate with a particular religion but I am not a hardcore atheist. So yeah I think they see it the same way everyone else does. I don’t think religion comes into it much.

We talked to Tholen about making games as a Christian, and what his church thinks of his work.

What core beliefs would you say most motivate you?

The gospel. As far as to be creative and do what I love doing, I would say pretty simply the gospel, the hope of the gospel, and the promises that were given through the gospel, and what Christ has done for us motivate me ultimately.

That can come with implications that I’m sure you guys work really hard to dispel. I feel like on the whole, we’re kind of bad sometimes at communicating the gospel. But definitely that core of Christ’s sacrifice and the implications of it for his people.

How do those beliefs impact how you make games?

They’re always at the core, but it’s not really going to be apparent on the surface. Maybe once you meet me, it would be. When I’m making [Dropsy], I think about the overarching thing that I’m communicating to the player while they’re playing it. I think love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control, those are the things that Dropsy inherently tries to spread in the game world. I’m trying to make that a rule in my brain, to make him react in those ways.

I’m not big on fandom. I’ve never been able to get into a thing – like Star Trek, or whatever anyone likes a lot – that is a brand. So while I’m making my stuff, I try to respect that in other people. In a way it makes things a mess, because I try to stick in everything or just make it such a blur that it doesn’t represent anything that anyone could say “Oh man, I like that genre that Jay Tholen plays.”

In regards to Christianity, I think we’re pretty bad at that. We like to quantify genres and fit the gospel in them, and then sell them back out to people. There’s all those deep themes in this game and in my music, but I don’t come out and tell them in a scene that Christ died on the cross for them. I really just want them to, if anything, have this inherent urge awoken within them that I feel like all human beings have, because they recognize events in the game that have truth in them.

Do you have a role model?

There’s people that I like their stuff a lot. I always feel really competitive. I don’t ever think, “Oh man, I love this guy so much. His stuff is always so good.” I always am thinking, “Man, now I want to do that, and I want to do it cooler than that guy did it.” Whenever I see something cool, it makes me a little bit jealous that I didn’t think of it. “That jerk. I wanted to have that idea.”

How do you feel about games addressing religious or philosophical issues?

Games that exist that are Christian, I mean I think everyone knows most of them aren’t very good.

I think it’s a good thing for people to try, even if they end up not being good at it. I think it expands what people think they’re capable of, which I think is a positive, because a lot of people still see them as a novelty. At the same time, if they do it really badly, ham-fisted, and preachy… I think there has to be something that all human beings can inherently connect with in a game, rather than you just relaying your beliefs in the game and making it like “Memorize my beliefs as we explore this narrative and I force them on you!”

If you go up to someone in the street and then tell them, “Hey man, did you know that Jesus loves you?” that’s not going to do anything. They have to know that you care about them. I have this rule: unless another human being is going to take fashion advice from you, or advice on bands to listen to or something, you’re really not doing them any favors by telling them that Jesus loves them a lot, because they’ll think you’re trying to get points or whatever.

As far as games go, I think we need to approach it in a universal way, be considerate of people, and realize that people are coming from real life experiences, instead of saying “Oh, hey you potentially sinful person who may be playing this game, check out this morality play and get right!” I think that a lot more care could be taken in the initial approach.

Do you attend a regular religious gathering of some sort?

Yeah. Probably too much. [laughs] I’m a youth leader. I attend probably two to three times a week at a church.

So what do the people there think of your work?

We have a relatively small congregation. The closer they get to my age, the more they get it. Then, after this weird threshold of thirty-somethings, I think they think I may be lost, or… I don’t think they’re aware of anything. They heard some of my chiptune stuff, and some of them, surprisingly, have been pretty receptive to it, which I wasn’t expecting.

There aren’t many wealthy members of my church. My pastor, when he’s not a pastor, runs a plumbing company. He and his wife are your typical conservative non-denominational church pastor people. They went to a local venue to see one of my shows one time. The venue was the back of a record store. When you’re not surrounded by that all the time, it can look weird, with all the posters of metal bands or things from just a totally different world. I could see they were uncomfortable. But my pastor gave me a call the next day and he was like, “Hey, I really appreciate what you guys do.” He has a lot of wisdom, and a lot of understanding, but I didn’t expect that. So that was nice and comforting.

 You can back Dropsy here.