Render unto Gamestation the things that belong to Gamestation
but your immortal soul isn't one of them, sorry to say, Gamestation.
A UK games retailer provoked some controversy when their April's Fools gag allowed them to legally collect on over 7000 gamers immortal souls:
By placing an order via this Web site on the first day of the fourth month of the year 2010 Anno Domini, you agree to grant Us a non transferable option to claim, for now and for ever more, your immortal soul. Should We wish to exercise this option, you agree to surrender your immortal soul, and any claim you may have on it, within 5 (five) working days of receiving written notification from gamestation.co.uk or one of its duly authorised minions.
Whoops! Very few people spotted the clause that allowed them to collect a voucher worth 5GBP.
It's hard to think about this joke without considering the classic Simpsons episode where Bart sells his soul to Milhouse for some Alf Pogs ("Remember Alf? He's back... IN POG FORM.") When Bart realizes how badly he erred, he spends the entire episode chasing down his soul, until finally he breaks down and prays for its return. Lisa has purchased it back for him, and always the religious skeptic, offers up the humanist viewpoint on how one acquires their soul.
People were upset with Gamestation's crass commercialization of one of the most intimate parts of a human being through a fine print legal clause, especially for a joke. One person even commented, "I laughed initially but as a Christian, I feel really uncomfortable. I take my soul very seriously."
So, let's talk about this; can a legal clause put your immortal soul in danger, as a Christian?
First of all, if you're a baptized Christian, your soul isn't exactly your own to barter with. You have renounced Satan, turned away from sin, and given yourself wholesale to Christ's redeeming glory. Not too shabby for babby's first intro to sacraments! Your soul is in God's hands from that point onwards.
But Celine, says someone with a degree in Supernatural theological reflection, even so, you can't just sign off on your soul. The Arch Angels will get all mad and boot you into the bad fire.
Look, person, I love Castiel as much as the rest of you, but there's a lot going on with that statement, and all of it is wrong. The Archangels are a created order who serve God. They don't do anything without his say so, because unlike humans, angels are traditionally thought to lack free will (this is what makes them so exciting to play with in literary and film!) Secondly, just as Christ said, we have to render to Caesar the things that are his, and render to God the things that belong to God. A gaming company, however clever their legal team might be, cannot steal your soul. They might make it hard to keep your credit card at zero, Lord help me, I know this, but no one can take your soul without your explicit permission (that pesky free will thing again.)
Further to that, even if that clause did give over your immortal soul to Gamestation to do all sorts of horrible things with, simply repenting of your sin of not reading the fine print in Christ's name puts you back in the Lord's good books and crams your soul back into its fleshy prison. After all, if you didn't intend for Gamestation to get your soul in the first place, your repentance will be in earnest, because what if they sell it to EA Games? In spite of Lisa's explanation of Bart's earnest quest for his soul, it's no coincidence that his soul was returned to him when he got down and begged God for it.
Finally, and here's the biggest one for those who are still skeptical: it is difficult to conceive of the Christian God in a form that cannot undo a minor legal clause in a game website's fine print. Of all the ways there are out there to commit sin, to fall away, to be lost sheep - do you honestly believe our Lord, who raised his son from the dead, who turned water into wine and fed thousands, cannot rescue your soul from the grasping hands of some British video game mongers? Of course not.
ETA for my lifejournal peeps: just so you know, I currently set up my dreamwidth account to crosspost with mythrai . I can filter these posts, since that's my 'official' blog, the posts are likely always to be nerdy, 101 in 1001 related, or theological.
A UK games retailer provoked some controversy when their April's Fools gag allowed them to legally collect on over 7000 gamers immortal souls:
By placing an order via this Web site on the first day of the fourth month of the year 2010 Anno Domini, you agree to grant Us a non transferable option to claim, for now and for ever more, your immortal soul. Should We wish to exercise this option, you agree to surrender your immortal soul, and any claim you may have on it, within 5 (five) working days of receiving written notification from gamestation.co.uk or one of its duly authorised minions.
Whoops! Very few people spotted the clause that allowed them to collect a voucher worth 5GBP.
It's hard to think about this joke without considering the classic Simpsons episode where Bart sells his soul to Milhouse for some Alf Pogs ("Remember Alf? He's back... IN POG FORM.") When Bart realizes how badly he erred, he spends the entire episode chasing down his soul, until finally he breaks down and prays for its return. Lisa has purchased it back for him, and always the religious skeptic, offers up the humanist viewpoint on how one acquires their soul.
People were upset with Gamestation's crass commercialization of one of the most intimate parts of a human being through a fine print legal clause, especially for a joke. One person even commented, "I laughed initially but as a Christian, I feel really uncomfortable. I take my soul very seriously."
So, let's talk about this; can a legal clause put your immortal soul in danger, as a Christian?
First of all, if you're a baptized Christian, your soul isn't exactly your own to barter with. You have renounced Satan, turned away from sin, and given yourself wholesale to Christ's redeeming glory. Not too shabby for babby's first intro to sacraments! Your soul is in God's hands from that point onwards.
But Celine, says someone with a degree in Supernatural theological reflection, even so, you can't just sign off on your soul. The Arch Angels will get all mad and boot you into the bad fire.
Look, person, I love Castiel as much as the rest of you, but there's a lot going on with that statement, and all of it is wrong. The Archangels are a created order who serve God. They don't do anything without his say so, because unlike humans, angels are traditionally thought to lack free will (this is what makes them so exciting to play with in literary and film!) Secondly, just as Christ said, we have to render to Caesar the things that are his, and render to God the things that belong to God. A gaming company, however clever their legal team might be, cannot steal your soul. They might make it hard to keep your credit card at zero, Lord help me, I know this, but no one can take your soul without your explicit permission (that pesky free will thing again.)
Further to that, even if that clause did give over your immortal soul to Gamestation to do all sorts of horrible things with, simply repenting of your sin of not reading the fine print in Christ's name puts you back in the Lord's good books and crams your soul back into its fleshy prison. After all, if you didn't intend for Gamestation to get your soul in the first place, your repentance will be in earnest, because what if they sell it to EA Games? In spite of Lisa's explanation of Bart's earnest quest for his soul, it's no coincidence that his soul was returned to him when he got down and begged God for it.
Finally, and here's the biggest one for those who are still skeptical: it is difficult to conceive of the Christian God in a form that cannot undo a minor legal clause in a game website's fine print. Of all the ways there are out there to commit sin, to fall away, to be lost sheep - do you honestly believe our Lord, who raised his son from the dead, who turned water into wine and fed thousands, cannot rescue your soul from the grasping hands of some British video game mongers? Of course not.
ETA for my lifejournal peeps: just so you know, I currently set up my dreamwidth account to crosspost with mythrai . I can filter these posts, since that's my 'official' blog, the posts are likely always to be nerdy, 101 in 1001 related, or theological.