Happy for Clair Obscur, bummed for everyone else. Sweeps are no fun.
Please research and consider playing the games that got no screen time. I'd bet that's what the passionate gamers who made Ex33 would want you to do, too.
I’m launching a new Substack focused on how games matter.
Checkpoint is a community for nerds, geeks, and gamers; Pixel & Pulpit is a community for digital pastors — now I am creating a new third space: where we explore the art that is video games.
www.videogamesmatter.com/p/your-favor...
Algorithms may guide attention—but compassion sustains community.
I do not need another gaming themed mug.
I do not need another gaming themed mug.
I do not need another gaming themed mug.
A chat log is a prayer list. If I’m not circling back on names, I’m not pastoring—I’m just posting.
Not everyone meets grace in a sermon. Some meet it in a midnight reply, a remembered username, a check‑in after the thread cools. Don’t apologize for where the holy shows up online.
We don’t need a bigger stage; we need a longer table. Care less about reach, more about who stayed long enough to be known.
Build rooms the algorithm can’t fake.
Games don’t just distract—they disclose.
A choice you didn’t expect to make is a mirror. Pay attention to what it shows you.
I don’t want fans; I want neighbors.
If a post can’t become a conversation, it doesn’t ship.
We’re not building content. We’re building rooms where names matter more than impressions. Homes the algorithm can’t counterfeit.
Games let us pick “easy,” “normal,” or “hard.” Faith doesn’t always give that choice—life sets its own difficulty curve.
Discipleship means adjusting posture, not difficulty: learning to play faithfully no matter the setting.
In games, checkpoints ground us—safe spots to rest, save progress, and prepare for what’s ahead.
Sacraments serve the same role: not an end, but a rhythm of return. What if we saw Eucharist or baptism as divine checkpoints?
Pixel Pilgrimages (our latest experiment) aren’t just fun events—they’re modern reimaginings of ancient practices. Traveling through sacred spaces in games shows that pilgrimage isn’t about geography, but about intention and presence.
Game music often carries more theology than we notice. Think about laments, battle hymns, and themes of hope woven into soundtracks. What would it mean if churches curated worship like composers score a game?
Quite excited for this new take on our newsletter - less fluff, more substance. Starting with a story of how our nerdy ministry is helping shift people’s faith lives.
www.tothecheckpoint.com/p/checkpoint...
Something I’m musing on as I grind for prayer beads in Silksong.
Grinding in RPGs feels repetitive, but it builds strength for the big battles. Spiritual habits—prayer, rest, service—can feel the same. Boring in the moment, essential in the long run.
In games, a death screen isn’t the end—it’s a chance to try again with what you’ve learned. Sanctifying grace works the same way: every failure can become a next step forward.
(Can you tell I started playing Silksong? 🫣🤣)
Games save progress at checkpoints. Ministry has them too—moments where we pause, breathe, and take stock. They don’t erase what came before, but they prepare us for what’s next.
Game devs publish patch notes—small tweaks, bug fixes, balancing changes. What if we thought of spiritual practices as patch notes for our souls? Small adjustments of sanctification, version after version, refining us.
Failure in games isn’t the end—it’s an invitation to learn, retry, and respawn stronger. Faith works the same: resurrection is baked into the system.
I'd be surprised if CTP even remembers who she is 😉
Some say video games are escapism.
But I’ve seen them become cathedrals—where grief gets named, joy gets shared, and grace respawns daily.
Every time one ministry amplifies another’s work, the Kingdom grows louder than the platform wants it to.
Collaboration is resistance.
Celebration is strategy.
Our competition isn’t First UMC—it’s the infinite scroll.
Build homes that outlove the algorithm: trust, belonging, transformation.
Practice Sabbath in your settings.
Turn off autoplay, schedule DND, leave one hour unposted.
Rest isn’t absence—it’s resistance to the scroll.
Play can be prayer.
Sometimes holiness looks like a quiet lobby where someone finally types, “I’m not okay.”
Go there. Stay there.
My first for the Phygital Fellows.
Few things bring me quite as much joy as when ‘professional people’ share my work where I get to talk about Fullmetal Alchemist and Cowboy Bebop. 7-year-old Nathan would be so proud.
substack.com/home/post/p-...
Some folks won’t meet Jesus through a sermon.
They’ll meet Jesus through your YouTube comments, your Discord replies, your presence in the margins.
That’s pastoring, not posting.
Had the pleasure of being on the Better Together podcast with Rosario and Callie Picardo and wrote up some quick thoughts as a supplementary read. Give them a listen!
www.pixelandpulpit.com/p/nerds-are-...
Stop waiting for perfect conditions to start.
The early church didn’t.
They worked with boats, letters, borrowed rooms—and God still showed up.
