While I'd hoped the previous entry would have helped heal some of my heartache, I found that even today I was still thinking about the time spent online. It is something I keep rather personal; I feel other people can't understand or maybe cannot see past the initial idea of a video game being a means to help someone begin to understand religious life.

The biggest reason I dwell on this as an issue is because it will not be the last time I have to deal with such feelings. What happens in 5-6 years when I miss going through the formation process with my classmates? What happens in 20 years when I miss a parish or ministry that I presided at? What happens when I'm old and can't get out of my wheelchair...trapped in the memories of the past that I cannot return to?

I spoke of this in generalities with my formation director. He was wonderful in not pressing details, and gave me a few things to think about as I continue to work through this rather unique time in my life.

Many of us remember things in our life that when they are gone, it is like losing someone we loved. The experiences, the memories, the change in our life which are the fruit of such things...all of those are linked with with grieving process. While his words made sense, even I found it hard to really try and grieve for a character made to exist in a fake world.

He continued to talk about healthy ways to express the good that is found in such things. He mentioned that because I liked to write, perhaps I could put such things down for me to read, and put them in the sense that they are not sad, but wonderful memories to be cherished.

He also talked about a symbolic death for whatever I was longing for. He explained that when I was ready to make peace and be able to let go of the past, that a symbolic death could be a way for me to kind of deal with the issue once and for all. It wouldn't be hard to just delete my character (which still exists in Sony's database). I don't know if I'm ready for that quite yet, even though I haven't seriously played the game in years.

I spent quite a bit of time thinking about this issue, although I am still not proud to talk about it in public. I think what I will do is log in one last time to visit the many places I remembered during those past 4 years, grab a few screenshots along the way, and begin to put down stories that I remember from my time there. While it may not be of interest for many of my readers, perhaps it will be something that benefits me and my journey to become closer to God.

My formator also told me he heard a lot of symbolism in my discussion of this topic; he said he could hear my reverence for whatever I was describing. He offered (gently) for me to begin and share that with the community here in Milwaukee, since I considered it so important to who I was. I told him of my fear of vulnerability, and that my personal EQ experience was like a special flower I kept hidden from the rest of the world. It was something I protected, something I cherished but refused to let others see for fear they would not understand. To share this part of my life is scary.

But perhaps that's where my catharsis will lie: in the telling of my entire story with pride and joy. To deny any part of my journey on this long, winding road is simply to lie to myself. To not say that a video game impacted my life is to deny everything about me that I never liked before finding my vocation. What I've learned is that God works with our faults and our quirks, and uses them for whatever means he sees fit.

Maybe I'll keep the stories here, perhaps I'll create a new blog for the gaming community; a place where such stories and memories can be shared with others who hold their EQ memories close like I do. I don't know exactly what my plan of action is, but I know I will do something I haven't done in a long time: face my fears, admit my weaknesses, and find a way to put this important time in my life down for others to see.

I hate to admit it, but sometimes I miss living in a false reality.

When people ask me what kind of person I was before being a Capuchin Postulant, I tell them all about my sales days, and my time spent at the poker rooms. They usually laugh or make a joke at this point in which I return with a funnier joke, and it's a wonderful story for them to tell others.

Sometimes I want them to ask me: "So what do you miss most about your old life?" For them it would be a surprise because it wouldn't be women, status, big paychecks, or anything tangible. What I miss the most was the chance to wage war with my guild, joke and laugh with a group of people whom I called friends (yet only saw a few of them in real life), moaned and complained with when we were frustrated, and shouted at and led when there was task to be done. What I would tell them is that I miss 4 years of my life spent "in community" with a group of 50-70 people from around the country (and in some cases around the world) as we got together to laugh, curse, conquer, argue, be inspired, share, and always with the intention of becoming better.

I've written many times about finding all these things in an online game, and I think the paradox that many people find with this type of community, beneficial or otherwise, is that to spend so much time in this way is to remove oneself from what is happening in the "real world." To spend a weekend on the computer is to spend time away from family/friends, to not exercise or move much, to not eat balanced meals, and to spend an "unhealthy amount of time" in front of the computer. The same exists with any other MMORPG (World of Warcraft, Vangaurd, Lord of the Rings Online).

And perhaps there are reasons for people to be worried at times. If someone is not mentally stable, they may have a hard time differentiating from fantasy and reality. Young children should not play these types of games in an environment where the parents cannot monitor what is happening. Games like these can cause people to lose jobs, loss personal money/property, improper sleep and eating habits, unhealthy social habits, and can lead to addiction for those who are prone to such things.

Taking all these things into consideration, I still feel a loss at times for not having the community of people I knew when I played Everquest. While the game held promise and the goals in the game were long-term, the part that mattered most (and the reason I sometimes spend $15 bucks to log in and say hi) is because of the people. It's all fun and games until you start meeting people on a real level, and begin to hear their stories.

I remember a 20 year old woman who had just developed Epilepsy. Since I'd had the condition for over 15 years, we used to spend lots of time talking about her fears, sharing stories about trips to the doctor's, not being able to drive at times...the game was merely a means of a support group.

I remember watching as our guildleader told stories about his newborn baby, and how the women in the guild would share their experiences and advice.

I remember learning about proper leadership during raids (large group encounters that could have 72+ players in one huge group). I remember lifting people up who'd never performed a task in front of such a large group, who were worried about failing. I learned to handle people who were overbearing, not paying attention, or simply did not share my point of view.

I remember the sense of loss for a player who'd died in real life, yet never seen the guy until a picture was posted after his death. I wondered if it was possible to feel grief for someone you've only met in an online game, and ended up realizing that it made you wish you had the chance to know the person even more.

I think of all these things, not the amount of time spent in front of a computer sitting on my ass. I think of how much I miss the time spent, and not the time I wasted. I recollect the memories of these things that happen on a computer screen, but they're not different than a memory from a bar or the beach. As wrong and unhealthy as it sounds, I want to relive the past. And that's why, every now and then, I really think about logging back into EQ.

Like an older man fighting mid-life crisis, I find myself at times wishing for the way things were. But on those rare occasions when I do log back in, I realize that only a few people remain from my memories. Those large numbers of friends have moved on. Some are playing different games, some are raising children, some are fighting a terminal illness, some are living happily and maybe haven't thought about this game since they left.I still keep in contact with some of those people who have also moved on. There's something they say that always give me something to contemplate: "Your decision to become a friar actually doesn't surprise me; I could see it in you years ago." I find it very reassuring, but some would find it very contradictory: How could someone who wants to live the life of God choose to spend their evenings in front of a computer instead of working at a soup kitchen, or helping at a homeless shelter. Instead of spending Sunday recuperating from a late night raid, why didn't I spend that time at Church? If I enjoyed community so much, why was I not able to do it in real life?

I've yet to figure out how He decided to make this all work, but I'm going with the flow. And while I can't explain the complexity of an online interaction to someone who's never even heard of these games, I can only live my life by reflecting on all the things I've learned. I continue to use what I learned from a simple video game in my ministry, and unfortunately I still continue to hide this huge influence from others I meet.

But like that man in his mid-life crisis, I miss the people I knew (even though some of them I never knew their real first name), I miss the great deeds we did (even though they don't seem so great in context of the real world) and I miss the time I spent with them (even though I was sitting alone in front of my computer.) And as those thoughts sink in, my desire to play leaves me...for now.

Perhaps after I'm dead and gone, someone will remember my time in Everquest and remember what I did. And perhaps while I wasn't a saint, I could get my old character canonized as the patron saint for MMORPG players: "Saint Severaen of the Faydark"

I finish with my head swimming in memories, and my heart heavy for a time now gone by.

(rather poetically, I looked online in the guild forum and in my old email box for screenshots of my time in EQ. I could find only a few, and only one with me -Severaen- in it.)

With all this talk of religious life, brotherhood, and being accepted, it's only right that I ask myself a very important question: Why?

I found myself thinking, and my train of thought led me to a new and mysterious place. I felt the need to write it down, but it took a few days to actually construct the entire thought. I apologize for taking a few days to get this updated.

Taking the side of the advocatus dioboli for a few moments, it can be said that there's a romantic side to the notion of dedicating one's entire life to Christ. This charism of helping people in need, leading a moral and just life, teaching others, exhibiting traits such as chivalry, piety, and obedience - all those things are highly reminiscent of the knights of old.

As we've seen in the media, the epic struggle of good versus evil, of finding one's purpose in life, of being chosen for a specific purpose, and the fulfilling of a destiny are all plotlines and stories that have kept us enraptured. Whether it be the story of King Arthur, the Lord of the Rings trilogy by J.R.R. Tolkien, or even the Star Wars saga by George Lucas, it's plainly obvious that stories with this high fantasy storyline draw the hearts and minds of many people.


We enjoy these stories because the show the struggle of good conquering evil. We see how powerful forces aid the chosen people in their time of need. We are immersed in a world where we don't worry about wearing the newest outfit or driving the coolest car. The people who are most revered are those considered honorable, charitable, heroic, and a champion for those who cannot fight for themselves.

Is it not surprising that people would want to live out these fantasies? The popularity of Role Playing Games such as Dungeons & Dragons and Palladium has continued to grow over the 30 years of existence. While it is estimated that 4 million people world-wide play the pencil and paper version of D&D, the growth has continued via the internet, where it's estimated that some 20 million people play World of Warcraft in China alone.

I've mentioned before how I used to play Everquest, an MMORPG with a plotline similar to the Lord of the Rings. There are dragons to slay, castles to pillage, magic treasure to find, and an entire world to explore as a haughty fighter, a shiny paladin, or even a wise priest.

I also mentioned the existence of guilds: player-made groups to help achieve common goals and develop a closer sense of community - working together as a unit (family, brotherhood, team). Keeping in theme with the epic stories such as Chronicles of Narnia and the Dragonlance series, players often tried to emulate that sense of chivalry, honor, loyalty, and of course victory.

Here's an example from an Everquest guild called Sapientia:

The Sapientia of today is not a pure raiding
guild. We endeavor to maintain a balance between building bonds of
enduring trust, respect and friendship among our members on the one hand and
coming together as a single force to vanquish all mobs that dare stand in our
way on the other hand. There are days when we raid for hours at a time,
and there are days when we relax and do a little tradeskilling or questing or
exploring or whatever strikes our fancy; it's what we enjoy most out of the game
and it's how we define fun. Our community is casual in the sense that we
do not have planned raids every day and attendance is never strictly
mandatory. Even the way we distribute loot is not based on "points"
accumulated through raid attendance. Yet we almost always enjoy tremendous
participation in our raids and events by our members. It's a testament to
our guild that so many of our members cheerfully take part in what we do without
being compelled to do so.

With such an overwhelming influence of this fantasy world, along with the obvious attraction to that sense of brotherhood, family, or just a sense of belonging, is it possible that this entire thing about feeling called to a religious life is just an extension of that fanatical attraction come to life?


For many years, I belonged to a similar guild known as The First Seal. We stood for loyalty, truthfulness, humility, helping others, and many of those same charisms that most people would never associate with a video game. How is one truly honorable in a video game?

The best way to describe it is this: in an anonymous setting like the internet where people can assume any persona they wish, there were those of us who didn't want to be the malicious, scamming, offensive, childish, stalking, selfish, greedy players. We wanted to bring something good to this "online world."

As I look back, I must admit how wonderful it felt to be included in something like that. Even my nom de guerre, Severaen, was a tribute of yet another high fantasy character Severian, of the Gene Wolfe series. I've not played EQ in over a year, yet there are times I wish that guild still existed; and there are times I wish the sense of brotherhood had never gone away. And there, right there, is where I must truly question my intentions.

Am I actually so devoted to God that I am willing to sacrifice possessions, a wife, and the freedom of being on my own to be part of a religious order? Or am I looking for that next fix of chivalry, inclusion, and obedience? Are not the Capuchin Franciscans a guild writ large (well, writ real); where instead of slaying virtual monsters on the internet, they fight monsters such as hunger, poverty, sickness, and famine on the streets of our cities? If my desire leads me towards a religious life, is it because God put that desire there, or because I'm trying to carry on where a video game left off? Am I trying to be a knight in shining armor, or a humble servant of God?

The squires of the Middle Ages, on the eve before achieving knighthood, were bathed and dressed in a white robe, gave their confession to a priest, fasted that evening, and kept vigil all night - preparing their spirit for the duty they were committing to. I can admit to myself that I am drawn to that kind of devotion, an overt display to God and to others that I wish to devote my life to the service of others. Yet is this idealistic ceremony the only draw for me? Will I become bored after committing myself? Will I find I've made the wrong decision? Are my desires blinding me to the message I should be receiving from God?

My situation is a unique and complicated one. It's taken days to actually follow the line of thought, yet now that it's all written out, I can see a correlation between that fantasy life of being Severaen and this new life of possibly being Fr. Vito Martinez, O.F.M. Cap. I'm not worried that Sev was a fake part of my personality, or that I attempted to make others happy without being true to who I was. I feel the opposite: I'd like to think that being Severaen opened me up to accepting some of those traits in real life and not just on a video game.

My worry is that I cannot log off of real life. When I was done being a hero, I simply turned off my computer. When I didn't want to slay Quarm or be that chivalrous ranger, I didn't have to play the game. Am I ready to live up to that kind of morality each day of my life, or will I grow tired of it, just as I've grown tired of Everquest, and eventually disappoint myself and the others who have prayed for me thus far?

Perhaps the answer to the ultimate question "Why?" isn't that traditional, Catholic, response: "To save my soul and the souls of others." Maybe when they ask me "Why?" I'll tell them "Because I still want to be a hero."

While some of you might not understand the confusion I face, perhaps you can leave with a smile, knowing that someone who wanted to be a hero, a vanquisher of evil, a defender of the people, considers the Capuchin Franciscans and all religious orders to be capable of the same heroism as the fabled paladins. =)

We're taught from an early age that the internet is something scary and evil. We read stories of children who are preyed upon, innocent consumers who lose their life savings, and hopeful lovebirds that find disaster after meeting from the internet. The people who exist online are portrayed as the most decrepit, sinister, and Godless scum on the planet.

Because of that stigma, I rarely discuss my online experience. It was a huge part of my life, yet rather than face personal assumptions, I chose to omit it. Having reflected on my life and where my desires lead me, I realize something happened to my mindset when all I thought I was doing was playing a video game.

For those of you who've never had the chance, Everquest in a Massively Multi-Player Online game, and was one of the first of it's kind. Rather than just playing a single-person game with a start and finish, an MMO is based solely online, and how the game is played is determined by your interaction with others who are also playing. Your personality, your words, and your actions determine how others perceive your character...eventually creating a setting in which your character exists.

Since Everquest is an RPG (Role Playing Game), much of the focus was around killing monsters, leveling up, an gaining better gear. Since harder monsters require more teamwork, you are compelled to interact with other players. Dragons, giants, and demons are all amongst the many creatures that exist in this online world.

However, that is not the true focus of such an online community.

As in any large collection of people, sub-groups are established for people to have a sense of "team" or "family." In Everquest, these groups are called guilds, and differ in their focus. Some guilds exist only to befriend other players. Some guilds exist to conquer the hardest monsters and be rewarded with the best loot. Others try to find a happy medium between progression and camaraderie.

This is perhaps where I became drawn to a religious community.

For many years, I was a part of an Everquest guild known as The First Seal. Like any other team, I was honored to be a part of the guild. They were farther progressed than I'd ever seen, and others online knew the guild to be respectable and honorable. In an online setting where you're bombarded by news of people stealing money and info, the concept of "honorable" on the internet was almost unheard of.

As I started, I learned the ropes. This is what time they meet to start a raid. This is their strategy for winning. This is how we portray ourselves to other players online. To the outsider, it almost seems comical to go to such lengths for a video game. But what many people fail to understand is that it is not just a video game: there were 50+ different personalities interacting together. There had to be rules, there had to be structure, and there had to be some kind of leadership. Rather than lead with an iron fist, the leadership of The First Seal resembled a Constitutional Monarchy, with officers having almost as much power as the leader. In retrospect, it's fascinating to think that people conceived these ideas to better play a video game.

After spending years in this guild, I look back and smile at how Franciscan my character appears. When logging on, my goal was to make others smile and laugh. I wanted people to be energized to see me. When divvying up our winnings, I always passed to someone who could better benefit. I went out of my way to lend an ear, to offer advice, and to speak well on topics not just in game, but with people and their personal lives. One cannot exist in such a state and not become close to people, even if it is only through the internet.

Part of me feels that The First Seal was my introductory course on what it means to belong to a community.

Lately I don't play Everquest. I don't have the time needed to play, and when I look into my heart, I don't have the desire to continue playing. I greatly miss the interaction between other people, but I stay in contact with many people outside of the game.

The one great thing I miss about that game is it's anonymity and how it brought out the true me. Online, you can be anyone you want. A married man can be a flirt, an older woman can pretend she's young again, anyone can be whomever they wish when they hide behind a monitor and keyboard.

Who was I when I was hiding? I like to think I was someone who could be counted on. I like to think people will remember me playing, and speak well of me and how I portrayed myself. I hope people remember me and smile and possibly share a laugh.

But rather than having some vain idea of how I wish to be remembered, I hope that those people I've affected will remember who I was, and be inspired to do something for someone else...be it online or in real life. I want them to remember that even when we're all just playing a game, there are good people on this earth.

For those of you who still don't understand how 4 years of my life could have been so involved in a game, no words can explain it. For those of you who knew or remember, join me as I take one last look at "home."