I’ve always loved video games. From Dr. Mario on our family’s original Nintendo console, to playing Pokemon on my brother’s game boy, to playing Halo for the first time as a seminarian on a gifted Xbox 360 I’ve loved it all. Pause for a second, because you might not think you’re so into video games. But did you get sucked into Candy Crush, or Wii Bowling, or Animal Crossing? Most people play some kind of video game, even if we don’t instinctively recognize it as such.
One of my favorite games is Minecraft. I’m not alone. Minecraft has 93 million monthly active users (down from a 2020 high of 131 million). People don’t just play Minecraft, but also watch users play on Twitch and YouTube. Minecraft videos hit a staggering one trillion views on YouTube last year. Playing and watching Minecraft is hardly strange given all of this. Yet there’s a pervasive myth that this is a game just for children (it’s not) or that video games are for boys/men (they’re not) or it’s just a waste of time (it’s not).
If we just look at Minecraft, it’s a game that has spawned (Minecraft joke intended) spaces to socialize, worlds to explore, creative spaces for beauty and engineering, and entire economic systems. (For an old but comprehensive explanation of what Minecraft can offer there’s a New York Times article I recommend.)
There’s a way of devaluing all of this that leans heavily on outdated stereotypes. In the New York Times article mentioned above many of the comments on the story bemoan children not reading books, being physically active, or generally becoming socially deficient. In my opinion, many of these comments are indefensibly cruel, and yet seem to be the norm of how many people still understand video games.
In my life, I play on a Minecraft server run by my brother. It includes family members and friends, all of us adults. We schedule times where we play together and chat on Discord. We play on our own time, leaving notes and messages. We live in different places, but are able to have a shared space. It’s a beautiful, collaborative, and social part of my life.
I was trying to understand why it felt so important to include my love of video games in this space that is about vocations. It is because gaming means is part of my identity. And it’s a self that hasn’t always had a home. I remember how in seminary I would be looking around for anyone who would be willing to playing on my Xbox 360 with me. Maybe it was because I was a woman, or a seminary student, or who knows, but it just always was a futile exercise. This part of me just quieted and closed off in favor of the parts of my personality that were a little more coherent to those around me.
When I am living fully I get to be a pastor and a gamer and a woman and a writer and, and, and. I suspect there’s something of your identity you might want to defend in your life, too.
What I’m watching
I’ve been thoroughly enjoying “The Big Brunch” which can be found on HBO Max. If you, like me, have been experiencing a cool down on “The Great British Bake-Off” after choices like Mexico week, you might find some joy in this brunch-centric gem. Clearly talented chefs cook for personalities I already like (Dan Levy! Sohla El-Waylly!) and generally maintain support and encouragement even in the face of a $300,000 prize. Just note it’s a little less family friendly than something like Bake-Off with cursing and drinking being a standard part of the fare.
What I’m playing
I’m not letting you get away without a video game recommendation, too. If you want a fun collaborative game that is on most video game platforms, look no further than Overcooked 2. This game comes to me via my deeply competitive sister, which I suppose is an endorsement? You dash around as little characters trying to complete meal orders on game maps with increasing complexity. It’s very, very silly. You can play this game solo, but I would recommend finding a few friends to chop, cook, and serve a few meals with.
What life looks like
Piano decorating with my nephew.