The time Dungeons and Dragons earned me an intervention

The joys of growing up fundamentalist

I grew up in the Baptist church and, during the first decade of my life, we attended one of the stricter denominations (Baptists come in more flavors than Jelly Bellies). The church van had a sign forbidding rock music. You did not wear jeans to Sunday services (well, at least the morning one; that’s right, we had two Sunday services — a boring one in the morning and an even more boring one in the evening). And there was no drinking or dancing at our weddings; aside from the fact that the guests of honor were breathing, there wasn’t much difference between a Baptist wedding and a funeral. 

I wouldn’t describe my parents as overly strict, but they took many of their parenting cues from the church we attended. Often, this is something I’m deeply thankful for; their insistence that I be involved in youth group in my middle and high school years helped create some of my fondest memories. They instilled values about faith and community for which I’m deeply grateful. But sometimes, they followed the church in some of their more reactionary practices. 

That’s why I was not allowed to watch He-Man; because only God is the master of the universe. It’s why I was encouraged to have a diet of only Christian music, meaning that where my peers have a memory of listening to Nirvana, Green Day, Prince and other artists, my brain is instead filled with lyrics to dc Talk and Newsboy songs. PG-13 movies were largely off limits until well after my peers had seen them, and I don’t think I regularly started seeing R-rated films until just before I could buy a ticket myself. One year, my dad tried to prohibit us from participating in trick-or-treating, although I’m 90% sure that was just a reaction to the hassle of having to buy costumes and gifts (as a 40-something father of two, I’m more sympathetic to that view these days – and we still ended up celebrating Halloween). 

I’m not putting on any false humility when I say I was a good kid. I was the nerdy Baptist boy who was genuinely aghast when his friends disobeyed the rules, freaked out and confessed to his parents the first time he inadvertently saw a movie with any nudity, and once unironically told a group of buddies “it’s not cool to swear.” I led a Monday afternoon Bible study at my school, and hit every See You at the Pole. I was at every youth group weekend activity because, as you might surmise from the list above, I did not go on many dates. Now, I genuinely believed this was the right way to live (it took me until my mid-twenties to loosen up), but I also just didn’t like to be in trouble. 

Which is why I was terrified for my soul when I was summoned into my youth pastor’s office to talk about Dungeons and Dragons. 

This would have been in middle school, likely sixth or seventh grade. I was hanging out with a group of buddies and they mentioned that they played the game after school a few days a week. I’d never played before, but I’d seen depictions of it in movies and on TV. It sounded fun; I liked the way you used your imagination as part of the game. It sounded right up my alley, but I said I’d have to ask my parents’ permission to go over their house first (from what I recall, this was a new group of friends). They gave me the handbook to leaf through while I prepared. 

That handbook was probably the thing that set my parents off. They took one look at the cover – which I featured spells, potions, monsters and skeletons – and said no way was I going to play Dungeons and Dragons. I protested that it was just a good, fun game. It was pretend. It was using my imagination. But they pushed back harder; it was evil, demonic. They stressed they were trying to protect my soul; I yelled back that they were trying to keep me from building friendships. 

A few days later, I was asked to come into my youth pastor’s office. He didn’t pull the whole “let me tell you about another guy who was magic” spiel, but he may as well have. He pulled the whole “I get it, you want to be with your friends” rap instead and suggested I invite my friends to dodgeball night instead (I can only imagine what my D&D-loving friends would have thought about being invited to play a game we avoided like the plague in school). He then told me that Dungeons and Dragons was a gateway to the demonic. It made people forget about reality. It introduced them to heavy metal. There were even instances where people couldn’t discern between fantasy and reality after playing the game and ended up killing other people, even themselves.

Looking back, I now know this was all part and parcel of the “Satanic Panic” in the ‘80s and ‘90s that sought to link whatever our parents were scared of to the occult. In reality, any links between D&D and real violence were extremely  tenuous – and any argument that the gameplay itself was of the devil kind of went up in smoke when you realized there were Christian versions of not only heavy metal but also D&D. It was reactionary and fear-driven, the kind of thing that still crops up alongside things like Harry Potter or any fantasy-adjacent stuff (except, of course, The Chronicles of Narnia and Lord of the Rings, which were written by Christians and were, of course, safe). And yes, I picked up on the irony a few years later when our youth pastor was excited to play Mortal Kombat with us. 

But, I didn’t play D&D. I fell out of that group of friends and never ended up picking it up. There was a period where I joked that the intervention was a blessing because it saved me from a life of nerdery but…come on; that was already a path I was destined to trod. To be honest, the older I get, the more I regret it. Maybe D&D would’ve been my “thing.” Maybe it would have introduced me to a good group of friends or stretched my imagination. Maybe it would have been a gateway that actually turned me on to fantasy and kept me from being the person who can’t get through The Lord of the Rings novels without tossing them across the room because of all the “walking and singing” or who gave up on Game of Thrones because there were just too many countries, species and alliances to keep track of. But I don’t think it would have ruined my soul. In fact, maybe it would have enriched it. 

Because here’s the thing, as I got older, I began to explore some of the things that were off-limits. And I learned that the legalism that had constricted me was more harmful than good. A cultural fear of sex and an inability to discuss it openly led to more questions and problems later in life (although it was a lot easier for me than for girls who grew up in “purity culture.”). A prohibition on violent movies as a teenager left me with a desire to watch the most extreme films when I was no longer under my parents’ thumb. Casting all culture into a Christian ghetto led me to identify my faith with certain types of music, art and writers instead of making it something transcendent and focused on love of God and others. 

And my life – and even my faith – is richer by enjoying some things that were formerly prohibited. We were strict teetotalers, something I held until my late 20s. Now, I’ve come to find that few things are more enjoyable than having a glass of wine or a good beer or whiskey with my wife or my friends – and often, it leads to good spiritual conversation. I’ve found most “Christian” movies to be pandering or anger-inducing, but I’ve had my soul nourished by many great films from artists who have no faith to speak of, and whose movies often have R-rated content. I never played Dungeons and Dragons, but I’ve met many people of faith who have, and who still play it (Stranger Things, of course reinvigorated interest) and particularly love the community it creates.

And I’m still a person of faith. In fact, my faith is stronger and richer because I’ve let out the “leash” a bit more and more over the years. That youth pastor? He left the ministry years back, had an affair or two, and is on his third or fourth wife. Most people I knew who abided under legalism had the vitality and joy of their faith choked out of them. Those who learned that faith was an adventure that welcomed curiosity and exploration and that could abide our inevitable failures with patience and grace seem to be the people most likely to still have a faith that seems real, vibrant and rich. 

And so, this weekend, I’ll be sitting down in a theater to watch Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves with my son (who’s also a big Harry Potter fan, thank you very much). You can hold the interventions. 

Note: This week’s newsletter is a bit lighter and less pop-culture centric (although Dungeons and Dragons is pop culture related). It’s been busy, and I’m nearing the final stretch of a grad certificate class that is taking up a lot of my free time. Next week, I’ll have reviews of Dungeons and Dragons, Tetris and The Super Mario Brothers Movie over at CinemaNerdz, as well as a more pop culture-focused newsletter. PLUS, a new episode of “It’s My Favorite” hits Monday morning. Stay tuned!).