第一课：我是不是被游戏、手机、追剧控制了？——娱乐与偶像

　　（周五晚上，大学团契活动室的灯光很明亮，桌上摆着几包薯片和一箱饮料。团契辅导员John还没有到，先到的几个人已经开始聊起来了。）

一、我是不是被控制了？

　　Peter：（把手机反扣在桌上，叹气）我昨晚又刷到两点。CPSC 210的project明明周五就due，我一个字没写。

　　Jenny：刷什么刷到两点？

　　Peter：也没干嘛，就是Reels，划一下，下一个；再划一下，下一个。中间还看了三条完全一样的猫视频，就因为算法觉得我会喜欢。我一开始跟自己说，写完这一part就奖励自己刷十分钟。结果两个小时过去，project一个字没多，我还觉得更累，不是更放松。

　　Tom：（耸肩）那不是很正常吗，我们不都这样？你想太多了吧。

　　Peter：我知道大家都这样，但我心里有个声音一直说：你这不是放松，是逃避。我是真的怕交不出project，怕到干脆不想面对，于是就划手机。可我又分不清，我是真的累了需要喘口气，还是在骗自己拖延。

　　John：（推门进来，放下东西，顺口接话）这个问题，我到这个年纪也一样分不清。

　　Tom：（半开玩笑）John哥你也失控？

　　John：（笑）我发现一个笨办法，不是看「我在做什么」，是看「我做完之后到底发生了什么」，你是不是更有能力回到该做的事情，还是更加不想面对它？但很多时候我们说的「放松」，做完之后是更空、更烦躁、更不想面对——这种，多半不是休息，而是麻醉。

　　Tom：这也太主观了吧。我打Valorant打完是爽的，那算休息还是麻醉？

　　John：不一定跟「爽不爽」绑定，不只是看当下爽不爽，也要看它在你生命中扮演了什么角色，以及做完以后，你有没有更自由地回到该做的事情上。你打完那盘，是可以放下、去洗漱、去睡觉，还是心里空落落的，还想再排一把、再刷一条？

　　Tom：（沉默一下）……后者比较多，尤其是输了那盘还想扳回来。但那不能证明游戏有问题，可能只是我这周赶due压力大而已。

　　John：有可能。我不是说游戏有问题，是说，当一件事变成你「必须靠它才能撑过去」的东西，它在你生命中的位置就变了。

　　Jenny：（小声，带点不好意思）那我知道那种感觉。我刷小红书跟Ins，嘴上说随便看看，但每次刷完看到别人宿舍布置得那么好看、假期又去了哪里旅游，我心里都更焦虑，觉得自己这也不够那也不够。可我还是忍不住点开，一天能点好几十次。为什么会这样？

　　Jack：（半开玩笑）你这是欲望的死循环——越焦虑越想看，看完更焦虑。

　　Jenny：对，就是这样，但我讲不清楚为什么，中文词汇不太够……那种感觉我懂，但说不出道理。

　　Peter：（转向John）那到底怎么分辨「享受一个爱好」跟「被它控制」？有没有具体一点的信号？

　　Tom：（抢话，有点不服气）我先说我的标准——如果我不打游戏还能正常过日子、按时交作业，那就没被控制，对吧？

　　John：那是一个信号，但太晚了。我倒觉得更早的信号，是你被打断的时候的反应。比如你正刷着剧，室友叫你帮个忙，或者你想起该祷告了，那一刻你心里冒出来的是「好，等一下也没事」，还是一股烦躁、抗拒、几乎生气的感觉？

　　Jack：还有一个信号，我自己也有——你愿不愿意让人看见你花在这上面的时间。我手机有个屏幕使用时间统计，我每次看到那个数字，第一反应是把它划掉，而不是给别人看。这算不算一个信号？

　　John：（点头）这是个很好的信号。躲躲藏藏，有时是一个值得追问的信号：我为什么不想让别人知道？我是在隐藏罪，还是只是害怕被误解、被控制？我到底在保护什么？

　　Tom：（仍有点抗拒）可这样说的话，几乎所有让人开心的事都能被你说成「被控制」，那是不是什么都不能好好享受了？

　　John：（认真地，不急着反驳）Tom，这个担心是对的，我要是给你的印象是「小心，什么都可能是偶像」，那我传达错了。享受一件好东西，跟被它控制，中间那条线不是「你多喜欢它」，也不是「它能不能被放下」，更要看你是不是开始靠它得到那些只有神才能成为你根基的东西——你的满足、保障、身份、安慰或者盼望。游戏、视频、朋友圈可以让我们享受神所赐的普遍恩典，问题出在我们把它们放到了只有神才应该占的位置，让这些东西成了我们确认自己「今天过得好不好」、「我值不值得被喜欢」的唯一来源。它们扛不住这个位置，因为它们从来不是为了承担这个位置而被造的。

　　Tom：（想了想，没有立刻反驳，但也没完全服气）……我需要再想想。这个屏幕使用时间的事，我其实也不太敢看我自己的。

　　Peter：（想起什么）说到「什么才对」……我上周Philosophy 100的Tutorial，TA讲后现代那一段，说什么「宏大叙事」（grand narrative）都靠不住，每个文化、每个人对「好的生活」的定义都不一样，没有谁能说自己那套是唯一对的。我当时听着觉得挺有道理，下课路上就顺手把这套用在自己身上——那我说「我被手机控制了」，会不会也只是我给自己套的一个「叙事」？说不定对另一个人来说，天天刷两小时就是他的normal，谁有资格说这不对？

　　Jack：（笑）你这是把哲学课当借口继续刷手机吧。

　　Peter：（不好意思地笑）也不是完全没有，但我是真的会被这个说法绕进去——如果什么都是「对我而言」真实，那「逃避」 vs 「放松」这种分辨，是不是也只是我自己给自己贴的标签，没有客观对错？

　　John：这个问题问得好，而且比Tom刚才那个还要往下扎一层。Tom问的是「哪种应对方式更有效」，你现在问的是「有没有一个不靠我自己定义的标准，来判断什么是对的」。这其实是两个不同的问题。

　　Jenny：（皱眉）那这两个有什么不一样？我平时根本分不出来。

　　John：Tom那个问题，心理学、社会学都在研究——心理学可以观察冥想、运动，以及祷告所带来的某些心理体验，可以研究这些做法怎样影响人的情绪、压力和行为，但这些经验研究本身不能最终回答：人为什么活着、什么是真正的善、我们最终应该敬拜谁。

　　Peter：那你的答案是什么？

　　John：（诚实地）我没办法当场证明给你看，这不是三句话能说服人的事。但我想请你注意一件事——你说「什么都是各自的叙事，没有谁的更对」的时候，你自己心里其实还是分得出「逃避」跟「放松」的不一样，你今天一开始进门就说「我怕这不是放松，是逃避」，那句话里已经藏着一个判断——你认定「逃避」是不好的、「放松」是好的。如果真的一切都只是各自的叙事、没有客观对错，你为什么还会因为「逃避」而不安？

　　Peter：（愣了一下）……因为感觉不对。

　　John：那种「感觉不对」，往深里追，其实是在说——你心里知道有一个「应该」的样子，你现在的生活没有活出那个样子。这个「应该」似乎不是你自己发明的叙事，如果是你自己发明的，你随时可以改写它、让自己心安理得。可你改写不了，你还是会内疚、会不安。这至少说明，你自己的主观感觉似乎不能解释完这个问题。你为什么会觉得有一个「应该」？这个「应该」到底从哪里来？

　　Tom：（插话）可万一那个「应该」也是被家庭、教会、文化塑造出来的呢？我从小去教会，我这个「内疚感」会不会只是从小被训练出来的反应，不是什么「客观真实」？

　　John：这是个诚实的质疑，我不会假装它不成立，说实话我大一上Philosophy 101的时候，也拿这句话怼过我们团契的辅导员，效果拔群，直接把他问住了半分钟——所以Tom，你不是第一个想到这招的人。我只能说——如果连「觉得不对」这种感觉都能被完全解释成「被训练出来的」，那你此刻质疑我、质疑教会教导的这个念头，是不是也是被你的Philosophy课、被这个时代的文化训练出来的？如果相对主义说一切判断都只是被文化塑造出来的，那我们还得继续追问：这个「一切都是被塑造的」判断本身，又凭什么是对的？所以，如果把相对主义进行到底，它会把自己也吃掉，有点像那种自己咬自己尾巴的蛇。护教学家范泰尔（Cornelius Van Til）常年讲的就是这个——他说，没有人真的活在「中立」的立场上，每个人骨子里要么承认神是那个让一切判断、一切理性都站得住的根基，要么就是在借用这个根基的同时，嘴上否认它存在。你刚才那句「这只是被训练出来的」，其实也是站在某个「应该客观」的立场上说话，你没办法真的做到彻底中立。我不是要用这个把你说服，是想说——这条路走到最后，其实并不会让人真的更自由，只是把「该信什么」从教会手里，换到了这个时代的另一套叙事手里而已。

　　Peter：（慢慢地）……所以你不是说「不能怀疑」，是说「怀疑」这件事本身，也需要一个立足点，不然怀疑到最后连自己站在哪都不知道。

　　John：对，我完全鼓励你怀疑、追问，福音经得起这些问题。我只是不希望你们把「后现代」这套工具，用来把所有让自己不舒服的真相都挡在外面，包括挡住神。

讨论：

刚才几个朋友聊到了拖延赶due、刷短视频、比较别人的生活、打游戏输赢，也聊到了「什么都是各自的叙事，没有客观对错」这种想法。John提到了两个具体的信号：做完之后是「更有力气」还是「更空虚」，被打断时是「能放下」还是「抗拒到几乎生气」；Jack又补了第三个：你愿不愿意让别人看见你花在这上面的时间。请讨论：

1) 用这三个信号——事后感受、被打断的反应、愿不愿意被看见——检视一下自己最近的手机、游戏、追剧习惯，你觉得自己更靠近「享受」，还是更靠近「逃避」？愿意的话，跟大家说说是什么让你有这个感觉。

2) Peter提到，自己在哲学课上学到的「后现代」思路，会不会让他连「逃避不对」这种感觉都开始怀疑。你在学校的课堂上，有没有遇到过类似的、让你开始怀疑信仰或道德判断的说法？当时你是怎么处理这个张力的？

二、什么才能让我满足？

　　Jack：（自嘲）说到「不敢看数字」，我跟你们说个更丢人的。上周末Canucks输了，我那一整天心情都是坏的，室友跟我说话我都爱理不理，晚饭也没什么胃口。我自己都觉得——这至于吗？一场球赛而已，我又不认识那些球员。

　　Tom：正常吧，我上周排位掉了一个段位，一晚上心情全毁，第二天上课都没听进去。

　　Jack：可我后来仔细想，我那天的反应，跟我上次微积分考砸了的反应，其实差不多重。这就有点奇怪了——一场球赛，怎么能跟我准备了几个月的考试占同样的分量？

　　Jenny：（若有所思）可能不是球赛本身重要，是那场球赛那一刻，好像代表了「今天到底顺不顺」？

　　John：这个观察很准。心情被一场比赛整个接管，往往不是那件事本身有多重要，是它悄悄坐上了一个不属于它的位置——那个决定「我今天过得好不好」的位置。

　　Tom：（这次是真的不服气）那照这个逻辑，是不是打游戏看剧都要提心吊胆、时刻反省？「无论做什么都要为荣耀神而行」——难道打游戏之前还要先祷告一下才能玩？这不就是另一种规矩，跟我妈以前管我一样，最后谁还敢放松？

　　Peter：（帮腔）对啊，这样听起来，信主之后好像什么都不能痛快享受了。

　　John：我懂你们担心什么，如果「为神的荣耀而活」变成「打游戏前先做属灵体操」，那真的很累，也不是圣经原本的意思。

　　Tom：那到底怎么理解？

　　John：我问你，Tom，你有没有过这种时刻——你在做一件很享受的事，心里不需要逃避，也没有觉得必须靠它证明什么，就是单纯地享受神给你的恩赐；做完以后，你也能够放下它，回到该做的事情上？

　　Tom：……有。上次周末我们几个打了几个小时排位，赢了以后一起在Discord里笑了半天，后来我就关掉电脑睡觉了，第二天照样起来做该做的事。

　　John：那至少说明那一次你是在享受，而不是完全被它牵着走。问题不是「打游戏」这件事，是——你打游戏的时候，心是自由的，还是在靠它填一个「洞」？如果是前者，享受就是享受；如果是后者，问题不在游戏，是那个洞需要被别的东西填。这个「洞」，就是人离开神以后，就会不断从受造物里寻找满足、安慰、身份和安全感。

　　Jack：（想了想）所以不是「能不能做」的问题，是「靠什么活着」的问题。

　　Peter：那如果我发现自己经常是「填洞」，是不是干脆就该把游戏卸载、把追剧App删了？

　　John：（摇头）如果只是删App，可能撑一个礼拜。因为，如果心里真正的问题没有被处理，有时就会换一样东西继续承担原来那个功能，可能是别的App，也可能是别的东西。

　　Jack：（点头）我室友就是这样。他上学期发现自己刷Instagram刷到影响睡眠，直接把App全删了，还买了个Opal锁手机，狠了整整两周，我们都觉得他挺厉害。结果第三周他把App全装回来了，比之前刷得更凶，还多了个毛病——开始疯狂网购，说是「奖励自己坚持了两周」。

　　Peter：（笑）这也太惨了。

　　Jack：他自己也很崩溃，说感觉自己好像「戒断」了手机，却什么都没解决，只是换了个东西逃避而已。

　　Jenny：不是所有的方法都不管用吧？我室友Amy也是因为刷手机刷到快挂科，她学期初就开始跟她们查经班的一个学姐做accountability，每周固定报一次自己的屏幕使用时间，学姐也不是审判她，就是问问、陪她祷告。这学期她真的好很多，屏幕时间从每天六七个小时降到两三个小时，人也精神很多。

　　Tom：那不就证明这个方法有效吗？

　　Jenny：（犹豫）有效，但……也没有完全好。上次期中周她还是整晚整晚地刷，跟学姐报告的时候，她说她其实有点想少报一点、或者干脆那周不报了，怕学姐失望。她自己也说，感觉像是从「手机」换成了「怕让人失望」在管着她，压力小了一点，但那个「靠外面的东西撑着才不崩」的感觉，好像还在，只是换了个形状。

　　John：（点头）这正是我想说的下一件事。Amy找accountability，方向是对的，这不是白做的，神也真的会用这样的关系帮助我们——但如果只到这一步就停下来，她可能开始把「学姐会不会失望」当成了自己必须靠着才能撑住的东西。那个「必须靠外面的东西才能撑过去」的核心，其实没有被处理，只是换了一个更体面、看起来更属灵的外壳。

　　Jack：这么说，那些方法（删App、找人监督、锁手机）到底有没有用？

　　John：有用，但它们的位置要摆对。它们是「先抽出手边的那根柴」，能帮你争取一点空间、少一点马上跌倒的机会，这是好的、是智慧的，我完全鼓励你们用。但它们解决不了「为什么我一空虚就要抓东西」这个更深的问题。这就是我等一下想跟你们说的——一个人没办法只处理某一件事上的问题，却放着心里那个更根本的东西不管。

　　Tom：（挑刺，带着点上课学来的腔调）可是这样讲会不会太绝对了？我们Sociology课教授上周才讲，每个人应对压力的方式不一样，有人靠祷告，有人靠冥想，有人靠运动，这些都只是不同的coping mechanism，没有哪个比哪个更「真」，只是对不同的人有效或没效而已。你凭什么说基督徒这套就比较对？

　　John：（没有立刻反驳）这个说法我上大学的时候也信过一阵子。我完全同意，不同的应对方式确实对不同的人「有效」，冥想、运动这些确实能让很多人真的感觉好一点，这不是假的。我想问的不是「哪个更有效」，是「有效」到底是什么意思——是让你当下感觉好一点，还是真的解决了那个让你一直要抓东西填的洞。我刚才说的「填洞」，指的不是「有没有用」，而是那个洞会不会真的被填满、你会不会真的不再需要一直去抓。这是两个不同的问题，前一个心理学可以研究，后一个却不是心理学能够回答的。

　　Jenny：（想了想）我表姐去年开始看心理咨询，她说真的对她的焦虑有帮助，睡得比以前好很多。这个不算数吗？

　　John：当然算啊。我们不能因为心理学不是圣经，就说它观察到的东西全是假的。她焦虑减轻了、睡得好了，这些都是真的。问题是——你有没有想过，「心理学」其实不是一套东西？里面有很多不同的理论，而且它们对「人心里为什么会出现这些洞？怎么填这些洞？」，给出的答案差别可以非常大。

　　John：说实话，我也常常分不清，这不是一次分辨完就一劳永逸的事，是要不断诚实地问自己的。

　　Jenny：（转移话题，有点犹豫）那我可以问一个不太一样的吗……我最近花钱越来越大手大脚。温哥华什么都贵，我这学期光租房加保险就快一千二了，可我心里越焦虑，越想在网上买点衣服、买点护肤品让自己开心一下。买完是开心，但没多久又更焦虑，然后又想买。上个月我信用卡账单，光是网购就快四百刀，我都不敢跟爸妈说。

　　Peter：这不就跟手机一样吗？焦虑→做点什么→短暂舒服→更焦虑。

　　Jack：而且你也不敢让人看见那个账单，跟我不敢看屏幕使用时间一样。

　　John：（点头）你们已经看出规律了，这就是敬拜的规律——不管是手机、球赛、还是购物，人心一旦焦虑、空虚，就会本能地伸手抓一个东西来填。抓到的那一刻会舒服，但那个东西撑不住你，很快你又空了，又要再抓一次，而且越抓越不敢让人知道。偶像不一定是你嘴上说「我最爱它」的东西。偶像往往是你实际拿来获得满足、身份、安全感和盼望的东西。所以虽然手机、球赛、购物本身不是偶像，但它们都可能成为偶像。

　　Jack：那我们是不是应该一个一个来？先把手机这件事处理好，再处理购物，再处理别的？

　　John：这个想法很自然，但我要老实说，我不太相信这样行得通，而且不只是我个人的经验，十七世纪有一位叫约翰·欧文（John Owen）的牧师，专门写过一本讨论「治死罪」的书，他里面有一句话我一直记着，大意是——一个人不可能只单独治死一样罪，却放着别的罪不管；因为你若不是真心追求在神面前全面的圣洁，那你在某一件事上看起来「戒掉了」，其实也不是真的被治死，只是暂时被压下去、或者换了个地方冒出来而已。

　　Peter：（想到Jack室友的例子）就像Jack室友那样，手机戒了，网购冒出来了。

　　John：对，就是这个意思。欧文的意思不是说「你不用努力戒手机了，反正没用」，他其实特别强调要认真、具体地对付每一样具体的罪，不能笼统地说「我要变得更圣洁」就算了。他要说的是——如果你处理手机这件事的时候，心里真正在意的只是「我要把这一件事管好」，而不是被那个更根本的问题——我到底信不信神真的顾念我、我需不需要靠别的东西证明自己够好——挑战到，那手机这件事就算暂时压住了，心里的问题仍然没有被处理，很可能还会在别的地方表现出来。网购、拼命刷成绩证明自己、甚至看起来很「属灵」的忙碌服事，都可能是同一个根的不同枝子。

　　Tom：（认真起来，不再是抬杠的语气）那照这个说法，是不是意味着，永远没有真的「戒掉」的一天？

　　John：（诚实地）有些具体习惯，当然可能真的被戒掉；有些罪也会在我们的生命中明显地失去力量。但我们不能期待在今生把罪的根彻底拔干净，我们会一直在跟它打交道。我不想给你们一个「信主之后就再也不被这些东西缠住」的假承诺。但欧文说的不是「没有盼望」，他反而是说——治死罪不是靠「管好一件事」的技巧，是要一直被福音本身摸到那个更深的地方：我到底信不信，神已经在基督里完全接纳我了，不需要我靠手机、靠球赛、靠购物、靠成绩去证明什么。这件事没有一次做完，是要一直被提醒、一直回到这一点上。

　　Jenny：所以就算我把购物这件事管好了，如果心里那个「我不够好、要靠东西证明自己」的问题没有被处理，它还是会从别的地方冒出来？

　　John：很可能会。这不是要吓唬你们，是想让你们知道——如果哪天你们发现自己「戒」掉了一样东西，却在别的地方更失控，不要觉得奇怪，也不要因此就否定自己「完全没有长进」，这恰恰说明你们摸到了那个更深的根，这时候更需要的不是换一套新的自我管理方法，是重新回到福音——神接纳我，不是因为我管好了自己。

　　Tom：（沉默一下，没有反驳，只是若有所思）……我不知道我信不信这个，但我承认，我确实没有从游戏里得到过那种「够了」的感觉。

　　John：（不追问，让这句话留在那里）那就够了，今天不用马上信，先带着这个问题回去想。

　　Peter：（沉默了一下，还是忍不住问）可是……知道了这些道理，下次我又想刷手机逃避的时候，我具体要做什么？总不能就靠「想起来神爱我」这一句话吧，那时候脑子根本转不过来。

　　John：老实说，没有一招就灵的办法，我要是给你们一个技巧清单，那又变回另一种「必须做对才行」的规矩了。但我自己会做几件很笨的事，可能对你们有用。第一，那个想逃的冲动上来的时候，先别急着划手机，就老实跟神说一句：「我现在很累，很怕，我想靠这个逃开。」

　　Jenny：这个我试过。上次期中考前我真的这样说了，结果呢？我还是把手机拿起来了，照样刷了一个多小时。说了又怎样，感觉没什么用。

　　John：（没有立刻反驳）这个反馈很真实。我想澄清一下——说这句话，不是一个能马上让你放下手机的开关。它的作用不是「阻止你划手机」，是让你在划手机的时候，心里知道自己在做什么，而不是麻木地滑下去、假装什么都没发生。这两者感觉上差不多，但一个是继续骗自己，一个是清醒地知道自己在挣扎，提醒自己再问一句：「如果我现在不需要靠手机逃开，我今天应该顺服神去做什么？」有时候答案很普通——关掉手机，把project打开，先做十分钟。

　　Tom：（挑刺）那这跟自己给自己做心理建设有什么区别？我心情不好的时候也会跟自己说「没事的，冷静一下」，这算不算也是「祷告」？神到底有没有真的在听，还是我只是在自言自语让自己感觉好一点？

　　John：（诚实地）如果你问的是能不能用实验室里的方法证明神在听，我当然不能这样证明。我们的把握不是来自祷告之后感觉有没有变好，而是来自神自己的应许。我们相信祂听祷告，不是因为我们用实验验证了祂，而是因为祂在祂的话语中启示自己，并且借着基督使我们可以坦然来到祂面前。

　　Tom：（皱眉）我是觉得吧，每次都要跟人说「我又刷手机逃避了」「我又控制不住自己了」，那种感觉挺怪的，好像在团契里要交作业、汇报进度一样，甚至有点像博同情。而且万一说出去的事变成八卦怎么办？

　　Jack：（有点被戳到，但也认同）说实话我今天说屏幕使用时间那一下，心跳是有点快的。但也没有很可怕，大家没有笑我。

　　John：Tom说的风险是真实的，团契如果变成「汇报进度」或者传闲话，那是团契本身出了问题，不是这件事本身错了。我说的「不要一个人扛」，不是要你逢人就交代自己的挣扎，是至少让一两个信得过的人知道——你自己选，选那个不会拿你的软弱去说三道四的人。

　　John：第三，是花时间常常提醒自己，福音到底在说什么——神接纳我们，不是因为我们已经改变完全；恰恰因为已经在基督里蒙接纳，我们才有自由诚实地面对罪、与罪争战。基督已经为我们舍命，所以我不需要靠手机、成绩、球赛、购物或者别人的肯定来证明自己有价值。

　　Tom：（叹气）这句话我都听过不下一百遍了，从小听到大。「神爱你」「神先接纳你」——听多了跟鸡汤有什么区别？我妈也常说这些，但该管我的时候一样管。

　　John：如果只是把这句话当成一句可以反复播放的slogan，那确实会变成鸡汤，我同意。真正有用的时候，是你抓着这句话，去对付一个很具体的、你正在相信的谎言——比如「我这次没考好，我很没用」「我这周又逃避了，我大概不是真基督徒」。这句话不是用来让你感觉良好的口号，是用来直接反驳那个谎言的。如果没有对上具体的谎言，确实只是空话。

　　Peter：（老实说）那我说实话，我觉得我下次可能还是会刷手机。

　　John：（笑，没有否认）我也觉得会。这些不是保证书，我没办法跟你说「做到这三点，你就再也不会逃避了」，那是骗你们的。我能说的是，这是我自己一直在做、也一直做不好的事，而且我做了十年，还是常常做不好。

　　Tom：那如果十年都做不好，图什么？

　　John：（沉默一下，认真地）不是为了「做好」，是因为每一次这样做，哪怕当下没什么感觉，那种「必须靠它才能撑过去」的东西，会一点一点松开一些。不是马上发生，而是慢慢发生。我没办法向你证明这个，只能说这是我自己十年下来，能诚实告诉你们的。

讨论：

这几个朋友聊到了球赛输赢左右一整天心情、「为神的荣耀而活」会不会变成另一种规矩、花钱买东西却越买越焦虑、越不敢让人知道，也听到了两个室友的故事——一个删App后换成网购，一个找了accountability但压力换了个形状。John引用约翰·欧文的话说，若不治死所有的罪，就不能真正治死任何一个罪，因为很多看起来不一样的行为，可能是同一个根长出来的不同枝子。请讨论：

1) 想想你最近一次因为一件「小事」（一场比赛、一局游戏、一次网购）整个心情被左右的经历，那件小事是不是也悄悄坐上了「决定我今天好不好」的位置？

2) 你有没有过「戒掉」一样东西、却在另一件事上更失控的经历（不一定跟手机有关，可能是别的）？听完欧文那句话，你觉得那两件事背后，会不会是同一个根？

3) John说，福音不是「我终于把自己管好了，所以神接纳我」，而是我在基督里蒙神接纳，因为基督已经为罪人死了。对你来说，这句话具体能反驳你心里的哪一个谎言？

Lesson 1: Are Games, My Phone, and Binge-Watching Controlling Me?——Entertainment and Idols

(Friday evening. The lights in the university fellowship room are bright. A few bags of chips and a case of drinks are sitting on the table. Fellowship counselor John hasn’t arrived yet, and the people who got there early have already started chatting.)

1. Am I Being Controlled?

Peter: (puts his phone face down on the table and sighs) I was scrolling until 2 a.m. again last night. My CPSC 210 project was due Friday, and I hadn’t even written a single word.

Jenny: What were you scrolling until two?

Peter: Nothing really. Just Reels—swipe, next one; swipe, next one. At one point I watched three completely identical cat videos just because the algorithm thought I’d like them. At first I told myself, “I’ll finish this part, then I’ll reward myself with ten minutes of scrolling.” Two hours later, I hadn’t added a single word to my project, and I actually felt more tired, not more relaxed.

Tom: (shrugs) Isn’t that pretty normal? Don’t we all do that? Maybe you’re overthinking it.

Peter: I know everyone does it, but there’s this voice in my head that keeps saying, “This isn’t relaxing. You’re avoiding something.” I’m genuinely afraid I won’t finish the project, and I get so anxious that I’d rather not face it, so I start scrolling. But I can’t tell anymore whether I’m actually tired and need a break, or whether I’m just fooling myself and procrastinating.

John: (walks in, puts his things down, and joins the conversation) Honestly, I still have trouble telling the difference myself.

Tom: (half-joking) John, you lose control too?

John: (laughs) I’ve found one pretty simple way to look at it. Don’t just ask, “What am I doing?” Ask, “What happens after I do it?” Do I actually feel more able to get back to what I need to do, or do I want to avoid it even more? A lot of the time, what we call “relaxing” leaves us feeling emptier, more restless, and even less willing to face what we need to face. When that happens, it’s probably not really rest. It’s more like numbing yourself.

Tom: Isn’t that pretty subjective, though? I feel great after playing Valorant. Is that rest, or is that numbing myself?

John: It’s not necessarily about whether you feel good in the moment. You also have to look at what role it’s playing in your life, and whether afterward you’re actually more free to get back to what you need to do. After you finish that game, can you put it down, brush your teeth, and go to bed? Or do you feel kind of empty and want to queue up for one more game, or watch one more video?

Tom: (pauses) …The second one, most of the time. Especially if I lost and want to win one back. But that doesn’t prove gaming is the problem. Maybe I’m just stressed because I have so many deadlines this week.

John: That could be true. I’m not saying gaming itself is the problem. I’m saying that when something becomes something you “have to rely on just to get through,” its place in your life has changed.

Jenny: (quietly, a little embarrassed) I know exactly what you mean. I scroll Xiaohongshu and Instagram, telling myself I’m “just taking a quick look.” But every time I see someone with a perfectly decorated apartment or see where someone went on vacation, I actually feel more anxious. I start thinking, “I don’t have enough of this, I’m not good enough at that.” And yet I still can’t stop opening the apps. I probably check them dozens of times a day. Why does that happen?

Jack: (half-joking) That’s the vicious cycle of desire—the more anxious you get, the more you want to look, and the more you look, the more anxious you get.

Jenny: Exactly. That’s how it feels, but I can’t really explain why. I don’t have enough Chinese vocabulary to explain it… I understand the feeling, but I can’t really explain the reasoning behind it.

Peter: (turns to John) So how do we actually tell the difference between enjoying a hobby and being controlled by it? Are there any specific signs?

Tom: (jumps in, a little defensive) Let me give you my standard. If I can still live a normal life and hand in my assignments on time when I’m not gaming, then I’m not being controlled, right?

John: That’s one sign, but I think it comes pretty late. I think an earlier sign is how you react when you’re interrupted. Say you’re watching a show and your roommate asks you to help with something, or you suddenly remember that you were supposed to pray. In that moment, what happens inside you? Do you think, “Sure, no problem. Just give me a minute”? Or do you immediately feel annoyed, resistant, maybe even almost angry?

Jack: There’s another sign I’ve noticed in myself. Are you willing to let other people see how much time you spend on it? My phone has a Screen Time report. Every time I see that number, my first reaction is to swipe it away instead of showing it to someone else. Does that count as a sign?

John: (nods) That’s actually a really good sign. When we hide something, sometimes it’s worth asking, “Why don’t I want other people to know? Am I hiding sin, or am I just afraid of being misunderstood or controlled? What exactly am I protecting?”

Tom: (still a little resistant) But if you put it that way, almost anything that makes people happy could be described as “something that controls them.” So are we not allowed to enjoy anything anymore?

John: (seriously, without immediately pushing back) Tom, that’s a fair concern. If I’ve given you the impression that “you have to be careful because almost anything could become an idol,” then I haven’t explained it well. The line between enjoying something good and being controlled by it isn’t simply about how much you like it, and it isn’t simply about whether you can put it down. The deeper question is whether you’re starting to rely on it for things that only God can ultimately be for you—your satisfaction, security, identity, comfort, or hope. Games, videos, and social media can all be ways we enjoy God’s common grace. The problem comes when we put them in a place that belongs only to God, and they become the source we use to decide whether “I’m having a good day” or “I’m worth being liked.” They can’t carry that kind of weight, because they were never created to carry it.

Tom: (thinks for a moment; he doesn’t argue back right away, but he’s still not completely convinced) …I need to think about that. Honestly, I’m not even very comfortable looking at my own Screen Time numbers.

Peter: (remembering something) Speaking of “what’s right”… In my Philosophy 100 tutorial last week, the TA was talking about postmodernism and said that you can’t really trust any “grand narrative.” Every culture and every person has a different definition of what a “good life” looks like, and no one gets to say their version is the only correct one. At the time, it sounded pretty convincing. On my way home, I just applied the same idea to myself—when I say, “I’m being controlled by my phone,” maybe that’s just a “narrative” I’m putting on myself. Maybe spending two hours scrolling every day is completely normal for someone else. Who gets to say it’s wrong?

Jack: (laughs) Are you using your philosophy class as an excuse to keep scrolling?

Peter: (laughs awkwardly) Not completely… But I really do get stuck on this idea. If everything is only “true for me,” then is the difference between “avoiding something” and “taking a break” just a label I’m putting on myself? Is there actually any objective right or wrong?

John: That’s a really good question, and actually it goes one level deeper than Tom’s question. Tom was asking, “Which way of dealing with things is more effective?” You’re asking, “Is there some standard outside myself that tells me what is actually right?” Those are two different questions.

Jenny: (frowns) What’s the difference? Honestly, I can’t usually tell them apart.

John: Tom’s question is something psychology and sociology can study. Psychology can look at meditation, exercise, and prayer, and study how these practices affect people’s emotions, stress levels, and behaviour. But those empirical studies cannot ultimately answer questions like: Why are we here? What is truly good? Who should we ultimately worship?

Peter: So what’s your answer?

John: (honestly) I can’t prove it to you on the spot. This isn’t something three sentences are going to settle. But I want you to notice something. When you say, “Everything is just a different narrative, and no one’s version is more right than anyone else’s,” you still seem to be able to tell the difference between avoiding something and taking a break. You walked in tonight and immediately said, “I’m afraid this isn’t really rest. I think I’m avoiding something.” That statement already contains a judgment. You’re saying that avoidance is bad and rest is good. If everything really is just a personal narrative, with no objective right or wrong, then why are you bothered by the fact that you’re avoiding something?

Peter: (stares for a moment) …Because it feels wrong.

John: That feeling that “something is wrong,” if you follow it deeper, is really saying that you know there is some kind of “should.” There is a way you think life should be, and you know you’re not living that way right now. And that “should” doesn’t seem to be something you simply invented yourself. If you had invented it, you could rewrite it whenever you wanted and make yourself feel completely justified. But you can’t. You still feel guilty. You still feel uneasy. At the very least, that suggests your subjective feelings don’t fully explain what’s going on. Why do you have this sense that there is a “should”? Where does that “should” come from?

Tom: (interrupts) But what if that “should” was shaped by your family, your church, and your culture? I grew up going to church. What if my feeling of guilt is just something I was trained to feel from childhood? What if it isn’t some kind of objective reality?

John: That’s an honest challenge, and I’m not going to pretend it doesn’t matter. Honestly, when I was a first-year student taking Philosophy 101, I used to throw exactly that argument at my fellowship leader. It worked pretty well—I actually managed to leave him speechless for about thirty seconds. So, Tom, you’re definitely not the first person to think of that. All I can say is this: if even the feeling that “something is wrong” can be completely explained as something we were socially conditioned to feel, then what about the thought you’re having right now—the thought that challenges me and challenges what the church teaches? Couldn’t that thought also have been shaped by your philosophy class and by the culture you live in? If relativism says that every judgment is simply the product of cultural conditioning, then we still have to ask: what makes the judgment “everything is culturally conditioned” itself true? If you take relativism all the way to its logical conclusion, it ends up undermining itself. It’s kind of like a snake biting its own tail. The apologist Cornelius Van Til talked about this for years. His point was that no one actually lives from a completely “neutral” position. At the deepest level, we either acknowledge God as the foundation that makes our reasoning and our judgments possible, or we deny that foundation while still depending on it. Even when you say, “That’s just something I was conditioned to believe,” you’re still making a judgment from some standard of what should be objectively true. You can’t actually become completely neutral. I’m not saying this to win an argument or force you to agree with me. I’m saying that if you follow this road all the way to the end, it doesn’t actually make you more free. It simply moves the question of “What should I believe?” from the church to another narrative—the narrative of the culture around you.

Peter: (slowly) …So you’re not saying we shouldn’t question things. You’re saying that even questioning itself needs some kind of foundation. Otherwise, if I keep questioning everything, eventually I don’t even know where I’m standing anymore.

John: Exactly. I completely encourage you to question and keep asking hard questions. The gospel can handle those questions. I just don’t want you to use postmodernism as a tool for blocking out every truth that makes you uncomfortable—including God.

Discussion

The group has talked about procrastinating on assignments, scrolling short videos, comparing their lives with other people’s, and getting caught up in winning and losing games. They also talked about the idea that “everything is just a different narrative, and there is no objective right or wrong.” John mentioned two specific signs: after you do it, do you feel “more energized” or “more empty”? When you’re interrupted, can you “let it go,” or do you become so resistant that you’re almost angry? Jack added a third: are you willing to let other people see how much time you spend on it? Discuss:

1) Using these three signs—how you feel afterward, how you react when interrupted, and whether you’re willing to let other people see it—take an honest look at your recent habits with your phone, gaming, or binge-watching. Do you think you’re closer to “enjoying” these things, or closer to “escaping”? If you’re comfortable sharing, what makes you think that?

2) Peter talked about how the postmodern ideas he learned in philosophy class made him start questioning even his own feeling that “avoidance is wrong.” Have you ever encountered something in a university class that made you question your faith or your moral beliefs? How did you deal with that tension?

2. What Can Actually Satisfy Me?

Jack: (self-mocking) Speaking of “not wanting to look at the numbers,” let me tell you something even more embarrassing. The Canucks lost last weekend, and I was in a terrible mood the entire day. I barely responded when my roommate talked to me, and I didn’t even have much of an appetite at dinner. I actually thought to myself, “Seriously? It’s just a hockey game. I don’t even know these players.”

Tom: That’s normal. I dropped a rank in my game last week, and it completely ruined my night. I couldn’t even focus in class the next day.

Jack: But later, when I really thought about it, my reaction that day was almost as strong as when I completely bombed my calculus exam. And that’s what felt weird—how can one hockey game carry almost the same weight as an exam I spent months preparing for?

Jenny: (thoughtfully) Maybe it wasn’t the hockey game itself that was so important. Maybe in that moment, the game somehow represented, “Is everything going well for me today?”

John: That’s a really good observation. When one game can completely take over your mood, the problem usually isn’t how important the event itself is. It’s that something has quietly taken a position it was never meant to have—the position of deciding, “Is my day going well or not?”

Tom: (this time genuinely pushing back) But if we follow that logic, are we supposed to be constantly worried and examining ourselves every time we play a game or watch a show? “Whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God”—does that mean I have to pray before I play a game? Isn’t that just another set of rules, like the way my mom used to control me? At the end of the day, who’s even going to feel comfortable relaxing?

Peter: Exactly. The way you’re putting it, it sounds like once you become a Christian, you’re not allowed to really enjoy anything anymore.

John: I understand what you’re worried about. If “living for God’s glory” turns into “doing a spiritual exercise before you play a game,” then yeah, that would be exhausting. And that’s not what the Bible means.

Tom: Then how should we understand it?

John: Let me ask you, Tom. Have you ever had a moment when you were doing something you really enjoyed, but you weren’t trying to escape from anything, and you didn’t feel like you had to use it to prove something about yourself? You were simply enjoying something God had given you, and afterward you were able to put it down and go back to what you needed to do?

Tom: …Yeah. Last weekend, a few of us played ranked for a few hours. After we won, we were laughing in Discord for a while, and then I shut down my computer and went to bed. The next day I got up and did what I needed to do.

John: Then at least in that situation, it sounds like you were enjoying it rather than being controlled by it. The issue isn’t “gaming.” The deeper question is: when you’re gaming, are you actually free, or are you using it to fill a “hole”? If it’s the first one, then enjoy it. Enjoying something is not automatically wrong. But if it’s the second one, the problem isn’t really the game. It’s the hole that needs to be filled by something else. That “hole” is what happens when people turn away from God and start looking to created things for satisfaction, comfort, identity, and security.

Jack: (thinking) So it’s not really a question of “Can I do this?” It’s a question of “What am I living on?”

Peter: Then if I realize I’m often using things to “fill a hole,” should I just uninstall the game and delete all my streaming apps?

John: (shakes his head) If you only delete the apps, you might make it a week. Because if the real problem in your heart hasn’t been dealt with, sometimes you’ll just find something else to do the same job. It might be another app, or it might be something completely different.

Jack: (nods) That’s exactly what happened to my roommate. Last semester he realized he was scrolling Instagram so much that it was affecting his sleep. He deleted all the apps right away, even bought an Opal device to lock his phone, and went really hard for two whole weeks. We all thought he was doing great. Then in the third week, he reinstalled everything and was scrolling even more than before. And he picked up another habit—he started online shopping like crazy. He said he was “rewarding himself for making it through two weeks.”

Peter: (laughs) That’s brutal.

Jack: He was pretty frustrated with himself too. He said it felt like he had “quit” his phone, but he hadn’t actually solved anything. He had just found something else to escape into.

Jenny: Not every method is useless, though, right? My roommate Amy was also spending so much time on her phone that she was almost failing her classes. At the beginning of the semester, she started doing accountability with an older girl from her Bible study. Every week, she reports her Screen Time, and the older girl doesn’t judge her. She just asks questions and prays with her. Amy really has been doing much better this semester. Her Screen Time has dropped from six or seven hours a day to two or three, and she has a lot more energy too.

Tom: Doesn’t that prove the method works?

Jenny: (hesitates) It works, but… she’s not completely better. During midterm week, she was still scrolling all night. When she reported to the older girl, she said she actually wanted to leave some of the time out, or just skip reporting that week, because she was afraid the older girl would be disappointed in her. She said it felt like she had switched from being controlled by her “phone” to being controlled by “the fear of disappointing someone.” The pressure was a little different, but that feeling of “I need something outside myself to keep me from falling apart” was still there. It had just changed shape.

John: (nods) And that’s exactly what I want to talk about next. Amy getting an accountability partner was a good step. It wasn’t pointless, and God really can use relationships like that to help us. But if she stops there, she may start treating the question, “Will my older sister be disappointed in me?” as something she has to rely on in order to hold herself together. The deeper issue—“I have to rely on something outside myself to get through this”—hasn’t really been dealt with. It has just been given a more respectable, more “spiritual-looking” outer shell.

Jack: So does that mean those methods—deleting apps, having someone keep you accountable, locking your phone—are actually useful or not?

John: They are useful, but we have to put them in the right place. They’re like “pulling out the piece of wood that’s right next to the fire.” They can give you some breathing room and reduce the chance that you’ll immediately fall again. That’s good. That’s wise. I absolutely encourage you to use those tools. But they don’t solve the deeper question: “Why do I reach for something whenever I feel empty?” That’s what I want to talk about next. You can’t just deal with the problem in one particular area while leaving the deeper thing in your heart untouched.

Tom: (picking at the argument, with a tone he picked up from class) But isn’t that a little too absolute? Our Sociology professor literally said last week that everyone deals with stress differently. Some people rely on prayer, some meditate, some exercise. These are all just different coping mechanisms. None is necessarily more “true” than another; it just works for some people and not for others. What makes you think the Christian approach is more correct?

John: (doesn’t immediately argue back) I believed something similar when I was in university too. And I completely agree that different coping strategies really can work for different people. Meditation and exercise really can make a lot of people feel better. That’s not fake. What I’m asking isn’t “Which one is more effective?” It’s “What does effective actually mean?” Does it mean making you feel better in the moment, or does it mean actually dealing with the hole that keeps making you reach for something to fill it? When I talk about “filling the hole,” I’m not simply asking whether something helps. I’m asking whether the hole will actually be filled, whether you’ll actually become less dependent on constantly reaching for something. Those are two different questions. Psychology can study the first one, but the second is not something psychology itself can answer.

Jenny: (thinking) My cousin started seeing a counsellor last year. She said it really helped with her anxiety, and she sleeps much better now. Doesn’t that count?

John: Of course it counts. We can’t say that because psychology isn’t the Bible, everything psychology observes must be false. If her anxiety has gone down and she’s sleeping better, those are real things. The question is—have you ever thought about the fact that “psychology” isn’t actually one single system? There are many different theories within psychology, and they can give very different answers to questions like, “Why do these holes appear in people’s hearts?” and “How should those holes be filled?”

Tom: Like what?

John: Take Freud, for example. He put a lot of emphasis on the unconscious, childhood experiences, and inner conflicts. But Jung and Adler developed their own theories. Later there was behaviourism, with people like Watson and Skinner. Then came Rogers and humanistic psychology, as well as Beck’s cognitive therapy. Today, if you go to a counsellor, you might encounter CBT, psychodynamic therapy, family therapy, attachment theory, or a combination of several approaches.

Jenny: So which one does a counsellor actually believe?

John: That’s where it gets interesting. Some people mainly follow one approach, while others combine several. For example, suppose the same person says, “I feel completely useless.” A CBT therapist might first ask, “Are you taking one failure and turning it into ‘There’s something wrong with me as a person’?” A psychodynamic therapist might ask, “Why do you so easily feel like you’re not good enough? Have you felt this way before?” A humanistic therapist might focus more on, “How do you really see yourself? Are you always living according to the person other people want you to be?”

Tom: Then that gets pretty complicated, doesn’t it? Same person, three counsellors, three different explanations. What are we supposed to do?

John: Exactly. And that’s where we as Christians need to learn discernment. A theory may have observed part of the truth, but that doesn’t mean its answers to “Who are human beings really? What is our deepest problem? What does real change look like?” are the final answers. We can listen carefully, and we can learn from useful observations and methods, but we shouldn’t automatically accept an entire view of humanity, value system, and solution to our problems.

Tom: So what you’re really saying is that psychology can help us understand some things about human beings, but it isn’t the final “user manual for humanity”?

John: (laughs) Yeah, that’s basically what I mean. A counsellor might help us discover that we’re afraid of rejection, but their explanation isn’t necessarily neutral. If they tell you, “The reason you’re afraid of rejection today is that your parents didn’t give you enough affirmation when you were a child,” then as Christians we need to stop and ask: Is that a tentative explanation of cause and effect, or is it as certain as a cause-and-effect relationship in physics? Does that answer fit with Scripture? We can learn a lot from them, but ultimately we can’t hand over the final explanation of humanity to one particular counsellor. They may help us see certain things, but no human being’s words are equal to Scripture.

Tom: (nods) …Okay, I can accept that. Not “psychology is completely wrong,” and not “everything psychology says is right.” But I still feel like I can’t always tell whether my heart is free or whether I’m filling a hole. A lot of the time, I can’t even tell myself.

John: Honestly, I often can’t tell either. This isn’t something you figure out once and then you’re done. It’s something we have to keep asking ourselves honestly.

Jenny: (changes the subject, a little hesitant) Can I ask something a little different? I’ve been spending more and more money lately. Everything in Vancouver is so expensive. This semester, my rent and insurance alone are almost $1,200. But the more anxious I feel, the more I want to buy clothes or skincare online just to make myself feel better. I’m happy after I buy something, but before long I get even more anxious, and then I want to buy something else. Last month, almost $400 of my credit card bill was online shopping. I don’t even dare tell my parents.

Peter: Isn’t that basically the same thing as the phone? Anxiety → do something → feel better for a moment → become more anxious.

Jack: And you don’t want people to see that credit card bill, just like I don’t want people to see my Screen Time.

John: (nods) You guys are already seeing the pattern. This is the pattern of worship. Whether it’s your phone, a hockey game, or shopping, once the human heart becomes anxious or empty, it instinctively reaches for something to fill that emptiness. For a moment, grabbing that thing feels good, but that thing can’t actually hold you up. Before long, you’re empty again, so you reach for it again, and the more you do it, the more you don’t want anyone to know. An idol isn’t necessarily something you openly say, “This is what I love most.” An idol is often something you actually use to get satisfaction, identity, security, and hope. So your phone, hockey, and shopping aren’t idols in themselves, but any of them can become an idol.

Jack: So should we deal with these things one at a time? First deal with the phone, then shopping, then something else?

John: That sounds natural, but I’ll be honest—I don’t really think it works that way. And it’s not just my personal experience. There was a pastor named John Owen in the seventeenth century who wrote a book specifically about “putting sin to death.” There’s something he said that has always stayed with me. Basically, a person can’t put one particular sin to death while leaving the other sins untouched. If you’re not genuinely pursuing holiness before God as a whole, then even if it looks like you’ve “quit” one particular thing, that sin may not actually have been put to death. It may simply have been pushed down for a while, or it may show up somewhere else.

Peter: (thinking of Jack’s roommate) Like Jack’s roommate—he quit his phone, and online shopping showed up instead.

John: Exactly. Owen wasn’t saying, “Don’t bother trying to quit using your phone, because it won’t work.” He actually emphasized that we need to seriously and specifically deal with each particular sin. We can’t just say, “I want to become more holy,” and leave it at that. His point is that when you’re dealing with the phone, if what you really care about is simply “I need to get this one thing under control,” rather than allowing yourself to be challenged by the deeper questions—“Do I really believe God cares for me? Do I really need something else to prove that I’m good enough?”—then even if you manage to control your phone use for a while, the deeper problem hasn’t actually been dealt with. It may simply show up somewhere else. Online shopping, obsessively chasing good grades to prove yourself, or even staying constantly busy with ministry and looking “spiritual” can all be different branches growing from the same root.

Tom: (becomes serious, no longer arguing just for the sake of arguing) So does that mean there’s never really a day when you can say, “I’ve beaten this”?

John: (honestly) Some specific habits can certainly be broken, and some sins can clearly lose their power in our lives. But we shouldn’t expect to completely pull sin up by the roots in this life. We’re going to keep dealing with it. I don’t want to give you a false promise that after becoming a Christian, you’ll never struggle with these things again. But Owen isn’t saying there’s no hope. He’s saying that putting sin to death isn’t a matter of finding a technique for “getting one thing under control.” It means continually letting the gospel reach that deeper place: “Do I really believe that God has fully accepted me in Christ? I don’t need to rely on my phone, hockey, shopping, or grades to prove anything about myself.” This isn’t something we do once and finish. We have to keep being reminded of it and keep coming back to it.

Jenny: So even if I get my shopping under control, if that deeper problem—“I’m not good enough, so I need something to prove myself”—hasn’t been dealt with, it could still show up somewhere else?

John: Very possibly. I’m not saying that to scare you. I want you to understand that if one day you realize you’ve “quit” one thing but become even more out of control somewhere else, don’t be surprised, and don’t immediately conclude, “I haven’t grown at all.” It may actually mean that you’re beginning to see the deeper root. At that point, what you need isn’t another self-management method. You need to come back to the gospel: God accepts me, not because I’ve finally learned how to manage myself.

Tom: (silent for a moment, not arguing, just thinking) …I don’t know whether I believe that, but I’ll admit something. I really have never gotten that feeling of “Okay, that’s enough” from gaming.

John: (doesn’t press him, letting the statement sit there) That’s enough for today. You don’t have to believe it right away. Just take that question home with you and think about it.

Peter: (after a moment of silence, still can’t help asking) But… knowing all this, what am I actually supposed to do the next time I want to scroll my phone to escape? I can’t just rely on “remembering that God loves me.” At that moment, my brain barely works.

John: Honestly, there’s no magic trick that always works. If I gave you a list of techniques, that could just turn into another set of rules—another thing you feel you have to do perfectly. But there are a few simple things I try to do myself, and maybe they’ll help you. First, when that urge to escape comes, don’t immediately start scrolling. Just honestly say to God, “I’m really tired right now. I’m scared, and I want to use this to escape.”

Jenny: I’ve tried that. Before my midterms last time, I really did say that. And what happened? I still picked up my phone and scrolled for more than an hour. So what difference did saying it make? It didn’t seem to help.

John: (doesn’t immediately argue back) That’s a very honest response. Let me clarify. Saying that isn’t a switch that will immediately make you put your phone down. Its purpose isn’t to “stop you from scrolling.” It’s to help you know what you’re doing while you’re scrolling, instead of mindlessly swiping and pretending nothing is happening. From the outside, those two things may look almost the same, but one is continuing to deceive yourself, while the other is being awake to the fact that you’re struggling. And then ask yourself one more question: “If I didn’t need my phone to escape right now, what should I do today to obey God?” Sometimes the answer is very ordinary—turn off the phone, open your project, and work on it for ten minutes.

Tom: (picking at the argument) Then how is that different from giving yourself a pep talk? When I’m feeling bad, I also tell myself, “It’s okay. Just calm down.” Does that count as prayer too? Is God actually listening, or am I just talking to myself so I can feel a little better?

John: (honestly) If you’re asking whether I can prove in a laboratory that God is listening, of course I can’t prove it that way. Our confidence doesn’t come from whether we feel better after praying. It comes from God’s own promises. We believe He hears our prayers, not because we’ve experimentally verified Him, but because He has revealed Himself in His Word and, through Christ, has made it possible for us to come before Him with confidence.

Tom: (frowns) I just feel weird about having to tell people every time, “I escaped into my phone again,” or “I couldn’t control myself again.” It starts to feel like I’m doing homework in the fellowship and reporting my progress. It even feels a little like I’m trying to get people to feel sorry for me. And what if what I share turns into gossip?

Jack: (a little uncomfortable because he can relate) Honestly, when I told you guys about my Screen Time today, my heart was beating a little faster. But it actually wasn’t that scary. Nobody laughed at me.

John: The risk Tom mentioned is real. If a fellowship turns into a place where everyone reports their progress or spreads gossip, then there’s something wrong with the fellowship itself; it doesn’t mean sharing your struggles is wrong. When I say, “Don’t carry this alone,” I don’t mean you have to tell everyone about your struggles. At the very least, let one or two people you trust know. You get to choose who they are. Choose someone who won’t use your weakness as something to gossip about.

John: Third, spend time regularly reminding yourself what the gospel actually says: God accepts us, not because we have already become perfect. Quite the opposite. Because we have already been accepted in Christ, we are free to honestly face our sin and fight against it. Christ has already given His life for us, so I don’t need to rely on my phone, my grades, hockey, shopping, or other people’s approval to prove that I have value.

Tom: (sighs) I’ve heard that more than a hundred times. I’ve heard it my whole life: “God loves you,” “God accepts you first.” After hearing it so many times, how is that any different from some inspirational quote? My mom says those things too, but she still disciplines me when she needs to.

John: If you just treat that sentence as a slogan you can play over and over again, then yes, it can become empty encouragement. I agree. It becomes genuinely useful when you take that truth and use it to confront a specific lie you’re believing. For example, “I didn’t do well on this exam, so I’m worthless,” or “I avoided everything again this week, so I’m probably not even a real Christian.” This truth isn’t meant to make you feel good. It’s meant to directly challenge the lie you’re believing. If it isn’t connected to a specific lie, then yes, it can become empty words.

Peter: (honestly) Then I’ll be honest. I think I’m probably still going to scroll my phone next time.

John: (laughs, without denying it) I think you probably will too. These aren’t guarantees. I can’t tell you, “Do these three things and you’ll never escape into your phone again.” That would be lying to you. All I can say is that these are things I’ve been trying to do myself, and I still don’t do them well. I’ve been doing this for ten years, and I still mess it up all the time.

Tom: Then if you’ve been doing it for ten years and you still don’t do it well, what’s the point?

John: (pauses, then answers seriously) The point isn’t to “finally get it right.” It’s that every time I do this, even if I don’t feel anything right away, the thing I feel like I “have to rely on just to get through” begins to loosen its grip, little by little. It doesn’t happen immediately. It happens slowly. I can’t prove that to you. All I can tell you is that after ten years, that’s what I can honestly say from my own experience.

Discussion

These friends have talked about how winning and losing a hockey game can control your mood for an entire day, whether “living for God’s glory” can become another set of rules, how buying things can make you more anxious the more you buy, and how you become more afraid of letting other people know. They also heard two stories about roommates—one who deleted an app but replaced it with online shopping, and another who found an accountability partner but simply had the pressure change shape. John quoted John Owen as saying that if we do not put all sin to death, we cannot truly put any one sin to death, because many behaviours that look different may actually be different branches growing from the same root. Discuss:

1) Think about the most recent time when something “small”—a hockey game, one gaming session, or an online purchase—completely controlled your mood for the rest of the day. Did that small thing quietly take the position of “deciding whether my day is good or bad”?

2) Have you ever “quit” one thing, only to become more out of control in another area? It doesn’t have to involve your phone; it could be something else. After hearing Owen’s point, do you think those two things might have the same root?

3) John said that the gospel is not, “I finally got myself under control, so God accepts me.” Instead, God accepts me in Christ because Christ has already died for sinners. What specific lie in your heart does this truth speak against?