Some people in my church think video games are a problem from a faith standpoint, but gaming has been a hobby for years, and it never occurred to me there would be a problem. Calling gaming a sin seems too broad to mean anything really. There’s a big difference between a simple puzzle game and something with darker or graphic content.
I’m trying to figure out where the line should be, if there even is one. I think it depends more on the content than the medium itself, but I’m curious what others think.
I’m not sure a rule is what you need here. A line assumes games sort neatly into fine and not fine, and that once you’ve sorted them you’re done thinking about it. You said it never occurred to you there could be a problem. Almost anything we’ve done comfortably for years stops getting looked at. The people at your church might be wrong about games and still be doing you a small favor by making you look at it fresh.
I don’t agree on the content point. I’ve played pretty dark games that left me thoughtful and a bit sobered, and I’ve played bright, harmless-looking ones that turned me into someone irritable and hard to be around. The question I’d ask is who am I becoming while I play this, and would the people who love me recognize that person. That’s harder to answer than checking a rating label.
The line I draw is whether playing a game requires or pushes you toward doing actual wrong to other people.
Stealing an object in a story hurts nobody. Cheating another player or harassing a teammate is real dishonesty or harm. I’d also look at how a game makes its money. Some are built to pressure players with loot boxes, and a lot of that works like gambling. Playing one doesn’t make you guilty of anything, but it gets questionable when exploiting people is the whole point of the design. Loving your neighbor still applies in a game lobby.
One thing about your framing: content isn’t the whole story. A movie shows you something, but a game asks you to do it. You’re the one choosing to pull the trigger or sink the next four hours into grinding for some reward. The question I’d ask is what the game asks of me and who I’m while I’m playing it. I’d also be careful with the word sin. Most hobby choices are wisdom questions. I’ve had seasons where games were restful, and other seasons where I was using them to avoid something I didn’t want to feel. Same games both times. The difference was me.
About the folks at your church. I’d ask them what’s behind the concern, because that worry is rarely abstract. Someone watched a kid disappear into a screen or saw a marriage strain under it. Hearing the story behind the opinion tends to soften both sides.
Behind every stern warning about screens there’s usually a grief someone carried home, and listening to that story honors them more than winning the argument ever will.
Hours are usually the clearest test. It’s also whether I get annoyed when someone needs me and I’ve to stop. When that starts happening, the game has moved ahead of the stuff I’m responsible for.
The contrast stuck with me. A dark game that leaves you thoughtful, a cheerful one that leaves you irritable. My mood after I put the controller down tells me more than the game’s rating does.
I like the question about whether the people close to me would recognize who I’m becoming. I’d add one more though: can I hear what they say without immediately defending the game?
The point about how a game makes its money deserves more attention. Hardly anyone asks who profits from the design, or how. A game built around loot boxes is counting on a small number of people losing control, and the pressure is aimed at them. That’s a design choice, and it’s fair to judge it the way you’d judge any other business practice.
The gambling mechanics can work on the person holding the controller too. I’ve a friend who spent a couple of years telling everyone it was just a few dollars here and there, then they added it up, and it was startling. Nobody at church would have called it sinful, and I’m not sure I’d either, but something was clearly being taken from them.
How fast I defend myself is usually the tell. If my wife mentions I’ve been on the console a lot and I’ve got three reasons ready before she finishes her sentence, those reasons are fig leaves.
What’s helped isn’t waiting to be confronted. I’d rather ask: if you notice I’m short with you after I play, tell me. A word you asked for is a lot easier to hear than one that feels like an ambush.
Hearing someone out doesn’t mean they’re automatically right. Sometimes the worry is carrying something else, like TomnToms said.
That’s a useful standard. Ratings tell me what’s in something, but that’s about it.
What I’ve started doing is checking afterward whether I’m more impatient or less willing to deal with stuff I need to get done. Usually shows up within a day or so.
Mostly personal discernment. Porn games are the obvious no-go (that one’s easy), and beyond that, if something makes you want to sin, avoid it. But otherwise it’s entertainment.