Theft reversal

‘Every boy I know is obsessing about it,’ the young woman told me. She was referring to Grand Theft Auto 5, the latest version of the notorious video game which was released last week.

The game is rated 18, but many younger people have access to it, entering a meticulously-crafted virtual world in which players participate in murder, rape, torture and a range of sexual acts. ‘The level of violence in these games is unnecessary, it’s very unsettling,’ comments Lucie Russell from the mental health and wellbeing charity YoungMinds.

I wonder why, given that there’s so much violence and cruelty in the world which our better selves recoil from, some of us choose to enter a virtual dimension for the explicit purpose of expressing violence. Are we simply bored? Are we ignoring the voice of our better selves? Do we reckon participation in the game provides an outlet for our violent tendencies? But what if in fact it breeds violence in us? We argue that violence in video games is victimless – but what if the player is the only victim?

Two things have been particularly meaningful to me over the last couple of weeks. The first was hearing a Church of Scotland minister, a well-known Highland Christian leader saying in the course of a sermon ‘I am chief of sinners.’

He was quoting words used by St Paul, who in his earlier days had been a murderer of Christians. But this 21^st century leader – a good man, humble, strong, gentle – what did he mean? He was not about to confess some great sin to the congregation, but was simply stating the facts as he saw them. ‘I am the chief of sinners.’

It seems seriously odd, but looking within me, I knew exactly what he means. I scrutinise the motives behind even the best things I do, and acknowledge how mixed they are.  I see within me the alarming potential for all kinds of evil.

And so I raise reservations about Grand Theft Auto not in any self-righteous way, but as someone who acknowledges the darkness within, and is alert to the danger of feeding that darkness.

Here’s something which puzzles me. We slap an 18 certificate on a game, because society acknowledges that children need boundaries to give them security, and protect them from things we think would damage them.  But why do we assume that once you reach 18 there’s no need for boundaries, or that we can set our own boundaries?

People of faith believe in boundaries set up after years of prayer and reflection and God-given insight, boundaries the crossing of which threatens your humanity and your very soul and the humanity and soul of our communities.

Yet we ignore the boundaries and reap the consequences of a theft which is anything but grand of our innocence, our wholeness, the light in us.

But the Christian leader spoke of his sinfulness without despair, because of his conviction that in Christ we encounter the grace of God who forgives and restores us, giving strength to overcome the darkness.

The second thing which came alive for me recently was the thoughts of a character in a novel who had been questioning her faith, suspecting that the holy words spoken at the church she attended lacked reality.

And then her first child was born. ‘I saw it as ineffable, fully of mystery and wonder,’ Molly said. ‘All the “God talk” just seemed to cheap after my living, breathing daughter was placed in my arms.’

Many people think the words and ideas Christians use to help us understand the world are simply words, disconnected from reality. And sometimes we ask ourselves if it is all true, or if the Christian story is an illusion.

Molly’s faith was undermined because she found supreme meaning, as do so many women regardless of their faith or lack of it, in the birth of a child. But the problem is not that people are finding meaning outwith Christianity and that therefore Christianity is discredited. It is rather than Molly’s conception of Christianity is too small. For God is present in everything which gives meaning, purpose and joy whether we acknowledge God or not.

In all light and sweetness and grace and wonder God is present, calling out to us. Grant Theft Auto invites us, in our thrill-seeking boredom to enter a virtual world where we compete through violence. God invites us to embrace the real world and cooperate with others through love to restore hope and laughter.

One baby, full of mystery and wonder, was the source of all meaning. Born into a theft-blighted dimension he offers through his life and teaching, his death and resurrection healing and wholeness to all of us – even the chief of sinners.

(Christian Viewpoint column from the Highland News dated 26th September 2013)