via Wikipedia |
Kyle Hinckley made a stir in the video-game world by
successfully completing the hardest mode of Fallout 4 with
zero kills.
In this popular series of video games set in a post-apocalyptic United States, gamers make their way through a hostile landscape to achieve the goal of the story. Killing nonplayer characters is the usual way, but gamers like Hinckley make it their goal to complete the game with no kills.
In this popular series of video games set in a post-apocalyptic United States, gamers make their way through a hostile landscape to achieve the goal of the story. Killing nonplayer characters is the usual way, but gamers like Hinckley make it their goal to complete the game with no kills.
That’s a challenge, because Fallout 4 doesn’t
offer many nonviolent alternatives. In fact, as Maddy Myers at The Mary Sue points out, it seems rigged against
nonviolent options.
This invites interesting comparisons to our culture at large,
but I find a deeper cautionary tale embedded in this story.
Hinckley readily admits his version of virtual pacifism isn’t
traditional. For example, when his character can’t get through a scenario
without killing, he exploits the game’s mechanics by manipulating other
nonplayer characters to commit the act.
In other words, Hinckley’s character technically doesn’t kill
anyone but nonetheless leaves a wake of destruction.
“This is a ‘no-kill run’ according to the loosest possible
definition of the term, but it’s definitely not a feel-good path,” observes
Myers.
As I contemplated the contrast between Hinckley’s goal and his
methods, I found myself think-ing about the conflict between our commitment as
disciples of Jesus and our actions — particularly when we disagree — in a
culture rigged toward polarization.
In this age of social media, most of us rub shoulders with
people from a variety of backgrounds, ideologies and theologies. This can be
enriching and enlightening, even when we differ on issues where we believe
we’re right.
However, people are growing less willing to civilly engage and
more hostile toward those with different viewpoints.
In a New York Times article,
“Polarization Is Dividing American Society, Not Just Politics,” Nate Kohn
reports on a 2014 Pew Research study that reveals how we’re becoming a
self-segregated and “divided society where liberals and conservatives
increasingly keep apart.” As a result, each party is “more ideologically
homogeneous than ever before” and “partisan and ideological animosity is
dividing American society.”
Believers are often deeply invested in ideological or
theological beliefs because they are based on convictions rooted in Scripture,
ministry or their relationships with God.
Unfortunately, cultural polarity and
animosity has infiltrated the way we approach each other when those convictions
conflict. Too often, we manifest hostility and contempt for each other, tossing
verbal grenades that destroy both personal relationships and public witness.
Even if we believe divine truth is on our side, we must be
careful. “When God speaks to us, it does not prove that we are righteous or
even right,” says Dallas Willard in Hearing God. “It
does not even prove that we have correctly understood what he said. The
infallibility of the messenger and the message does not guarantee the
infallibility of our reception. Humility is always in order.”
Even if we are right, says Willard, we should remember “that
God’s purposes are not merely to support us or make us look and feel secure in
our roles or to make sure we are right.” Indeed, says Willard, few succeed in
bearing up under being right gracefully. How we act must be grounded in an
overall character of life, which includes humility, faith and, perhaps above
all, “hopeful love.”
I’m not saying we mustn’t speak with passion, conviction and
even righteous anger. But doing so without humility and love is destructive.
While our culture leaves few alternatives to polarization, we are called to
walk a different way.
The alternative is costly: We risk becoming Christians in the
loosest possible definition, which is definitely not a feel-good path.
This post originally appeared as a column at MWR.