Loving Correction
By Anthony Casperson
10-21-23

About 7½ years ago, I went from never having played a tabletop RPG to being the DM (the lead storyteller) of a game. And for over 5 years of that time, I lead a semi-regular game. The one who sat behind the screen. The arbiter of the rules. I helped others understand the result of their dice rolls. And often would lean over the screen to see what the others rolled.

Less than a year after the last session of that game, I made my first PC (player character) for any tabletop game. Another of the players took the reigns as the lead storyteller. I was excited.

But during the game, I watched the new lead storyteller make a dice roll behind the screen. And I leaned over to see if I could help him decipher the roll.

That is a player “no-no.”

It came out of reflex. But was something that a player shouldn’t do in such a game. Not only was I undercutting the authority of my friend’s role as lead storyteller, but I also broke a cardinal rule of the DM’s screen.

With incredible kindness, the other player looked at me and corrected my behavior. I needed it. The correction came just as it was required. And I thanked my friend for the correction. (As a matter of fact, I now purposefully sit as far away from the DM’s screen as I can in the game he currently leads. Just so that I don’t give into temptation.)

For all that my friend knew, I could’ve taken the correction poorly. And I sensed some hesitance in his part of the discussion. People don’t always take correction well. Many today balk at anything short of congratulations for their every move. And anything close to correction is met with hatred and disdain. But I truly was thankful for the correction.

Plus, considering that over half of the people at that table had been players in the game I’d led, it reminded all of us that there was a different dynamic than we were all used to. It helped not just his role as lead storyteller, and not just my new position as player being led, but also the whole group of us in our continuing experience.

Although correction is often seen as a negative thing in our day and culture—as if the one correcting is just trying to throw their weight around in some sort of power trip—correction can be a good thing. And even the most loving thing that we can do.

In 2 Corinthians 7:6-13, Paul speaks of his being comforted because of the Corinthians’ reception of correction from him. The most simple reading of 1 and 2 Corinthians makes us assume that the incident that required correction was the issue of a man in the church sleeping with his own step-mother that’s mentioned in 1 Corinthians 5 (and in last week’s blog). An act that was not only left uncorrected, but even celebrated by other members of the church.

The Apostle told the followers of Jesus to remove the man from their fellowship because of this blatantly unrepented of sin. All in the hope that the man might be returned later, after he repents.

It seems that the church did as Paul commanded them. And that repentance happened as a whole. In 2 Corinthians 7, the Apostle commends their grief—not because of the fact that they were grieved, but because it led to repentance that suffered no loss. As verse 10 puts it, “For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief produces death.”

The correction was needed. And accepted. The result thus led to growth among the followers of Jesus.

Paul could’ve hesitated in his correction. Verse 8 shows that the Apostle had a momentary regret at sending the letter in which his correction rested. There had been a tiny little doubt that they might have taken the correction with defiance. But in their acceptance of the correction, he saw the mighty work of God in their lives.

And rejoiced because of it.

Regardless of the doubts, the Apostle sent the correction because he desired for the whole church to grow in their relationship with God. Even more than just seeing the repentance of the man who had sinned, Paul prayed that their earnestness for the ways of God might be proved in their lives.

It was love for the followers of Jesus in Corinth that led Paul to correct them. Love in the truest sense. Love that seeks the betterment of others, even if that betterment feels bad in the moment. It was a love that pushed the people to be better. More godly. More holy.

Correction—done in true, godly love—can lead to truly amazing things. We can grow in God’s holiness, if only we accept the correction. And find the love to correct others who are in error.

Be willing to do both. And be thankful for the results.