Video games offer an experience unlike any other medium. When a game experience causes a player to reflect on their own faith and life choices, it becomes something uniquely powerful.
At first, I saw the gaming experience as a gateway to the “real” experience—something like a stepping stone. Much like with curriculum design or the experience design I’ve done for churches, I thought of creating video games as a way to lead people into connecting with a church or participating in traditional ministry. But the more I learned (or rather, the more my friend and game designer Adam taught me), the more I realized that the game is not a gateway to another experience.
The Game Experience is the Experience
Viewing a game as a gateway isn’t unheard of. Many church sports leagues, for instance, serve as outreach programs, offering a comfortable space (like basketball) alongside something potentially less familiar, like faith. A church basketball league might let someone invite a faith-curious coworker to play in a way that feels natural. Perhaps that leads to deeper conversations or invitations to a small group or worship service later on.
Some online pastors and missionaries use video games similarly. They stream gameplay and engage in faith conversations with their viewers. It’s an innovative way to connect, but it’s fundamentally different from the personal experience of playing the game.
To restate my point:
The Game Experience is the Experience
Whether it’s an online puzzle or a massive open-world adventure, video games exist at the intersection of the game and the player. The game presents a challenge; the player responds by making choices. The game reacts to those choices, and the cycle continues. Those choices directly impact the game’s outcome—for good or for bad.
I remember playing an open-world game with multiple endings. I made decisions based on what I thought aligned with my worldview, only to discover they led to the worst possible outcome. It stayed with me for days. Did this mean I had a terrible worldview? Of course not. But as I replayed the game, I realized there were subtle, better choices I could have made. Choices that led to the game’s best ending.
That outcome came after hours of deliberate, in-the-moment thinking about decisions, consequences, and what was best for the people (in the game) I cared about. It was a masterclass in navigating life choices: some were unclear, some carried unintended consequences, and others were shaped by factors beyond my control—just like real life.
This interplay between myself and the game changed the way I thought about my own choices and their ripple effects on others. But it didn’t lead me to seek a new experience outside the game. And that’s the point.
The Game Experience is the Experience
It’s enough for a game to stand on its own, much like a faith-driven song, book, or movie. I don’t believe C.S. Lewis—despite his many works on faith and Christian living—intended The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe to serve as a gateway to something else. It was complete on its own, yet profoundly impactful.
In the same way, my view of faith-driven games has shifted. Games are not gateways but destinations in themselves. They are spaces where faith can be explored, challenged, and deepened. Spaces where the Holy Spirit can move and work in ways unique to the medium, weaving into the tapestry of a person’s lived-out faith.
The game doesn’t need to lead somewhere else—it is the journey.