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The Power of Prayer

What happens next? See below, choosing the option that most appeals to you.


The idea of faith being a matter of belief is a fairly recent one. As late as the 17C, faith was more or less a given, and devotion was the spiritual issue rather than faith. So there's nothing mysterious about spiritual power in antiquity and medieval times - the existence of gods is taken for granted. What matters is if you devote themselves to them or not.

Precisely.

There is a huge misunderstanding about 'faith' and 'belief' in American popular culture, in that these things have become elevated as things in and of themselves and indeed sometimes detached from any object. Thus, there is a tendency to see faith and belief as things that are powerful and valuable in and of themselves, which is something no historical religion - least of all Christianity - actually believes. Christianity actually doesn't define Faith as 'believing in God', nor does it believe that Faith is powerful because it is belief, but because of what it believes in - not in the existence of God but in the goodness of God.

This annoys me all over the place as I encounter it, because it is all over the place from RPGs to fantasy literature to popular psychology to how we discuss theology. Probably its most succinct form though is the Whitney Houston/Mariah Carey ballad: "When you believe".

In D&D it can end up producing incoherence in the flavor of the rules. 3e as written implies that a cleric doesn't have to believe in anything in particular, just 'something', yet at the same time claims that that 'something' grants the cleric spells and power. The implication I guess is that miracles occur just because you want them to happen, which is like saying that the cleric grants himself wishes. We've come a long way from 'if wishes were horses, then beggars would ride'.

Gods could still act in mysterious ways, however. The one time I had a genuine feeling of (in-fiction) divine intervention in a game was when the GM fudged a rule, and I think the best way to reflect an act of piety like that displayed in the example is by fudging die rolls behind the screen. Did god get involved? That can remain a mystery.

Well, note that this quote is completely at odds to what you quote next.

Jules from Pulp Fiction: "Whether or not what we experienced was an According to Hoyle miracle is insignificant. What is significant is that I felt the touch of God. God got involved. "

I think Jules is right. What is significant is not whether the only possible explanation is a miracle or whether the degree of intervention is large, but whether or not the divine was present and recognized. Of course, the fact that it was a miracle might not be readily known to an observer, but the fact that it is observed is what is significant.

In this sense, I disagree with you over the best way to reflect piety being fudged rolls behind the screen. DM fudging is a metagame activity that has no real meaning in the story. There is a very different impact on the story to believe that the DM is fudging to protect the story, and that the DM is fudging because a powerful NPC is intervening in the story. One draws attention to the DM, but the other draws attention to the setting. But I also disagree with fudging rolls behind the screen in other ways as they pertain to a well run RPG. While the DM has the right to fudge rolls, I don't think it is a very strong practice. It is and tends to lead to rail roading. It violates the referees commitment to neutrality and fair play, and it potentially leads to favoritism either of particular players or of the DM's own characters. Plus, if the DM is regularly feeling like he must break the rules he's set for himself, I think that it points to weaknesses in the rules.
 

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In this sense, I disagree with you over the best way to reflect piety being fudged rolls behind the screen.

Actually, I share your doubts here. It just goes to show how something entirely contrary to "good practice" can give the sense of wonder slavishly following the rules does not. Role-playing is not a simple mechanical skill, and cannot be governed by simple mechanical rules. The best role-playing moments are far outside any rules. Still, we do need rules for that 99% of the time that is not in the best 1%.

Sorry if this is muddled, but what I'm trying to say is that for me the first rules is that you can break any rule if it enhances the game.
 

Actually, I share your doubts here. It just goes to show how something entirely contrary to "good practice" can give the sense of wonder slavishly following the rules does not. Role-playing is not a simple mechanical skill, and cannot be governed by simple mechanical rules. The best role-playing moments are far outside any rules. Still, we do need rules for that 99% of the time that is not in the best 1%.

Sorry if this is muddled, but what I'm trying to say is that for me the first rules is that you can break any rule if it enhances the game.
Not necessarily though. Rules are by definition limits. And limits breed creativity.

Rules can help create roleplaying, if those limits force the player to make decisions as the character does, and if they force the character to make interesting decisions.

Death is definitely one of those cases. In many groups, if the players had their way, the characters would never die, but not only that, if the DM had his way, they'd never die. The rules add an element of unpredictability, creating outcomes that people might never reach of their own accord. If the rules force the players to deal with mortality in a dramatically interesting way, I think changing them can be counterproductive, a case others made above.

Not to say that one has to follow the rules every time, but they have their use.
 

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