In a dazzling city, celebrities, government leaders, and wealthy spectators watch the tremendous spectacle of young people parading in thematic outfits while commentators offer insight into which of them might be most successful in the next couple of weeks. Off screen, wagers are made and parties are thrown. Over the following days, grueling competitions will beguile viewers who will root for victories and groan for losses. Victors will be feted, and hometowns will bask in the glory of their accomplishments.

Fortunately, this is the 2026 Winter Olympics, being broadcast from Italy, not the Hunger Games, with which it shares a fair few elements. I am not a rabid sports fan. I understand that there is some sort of big game tomorrow. One of my students asked me this week who I wanted to see win. I responded, in all honesty, “the fluffy team, but I won’t be disappointed if the other puppies win.” I do always look forward to the Puppy Bowl, and I really didn’t know who was playing in that other Bowl game until last Sunday, when it was mentioned in an announcement at church. I do enjoy watching college football with my husband (at least, when his team is winning), and I am quite fond of the Olympics. I sometimes get bored with team sports, but I find the races and skating performances captivating.

The live broadcast from the four different sites for the Milano-Cortina Olympics started yesterday, and, as usual, I found myself entranced. With the different locales, and to allow all the athletes to participate in the Opening Ceremonies, the event was held in four different spots, with the larger teams split up and athletes participating close to the sites of their events. It was a beautiful event, with snow that seemed much kinder than that impeding my travel lately. In addition to the parade of athletes from all around the world, there were spectacles and presentations welcoming visitors and participants to Italy and celebrating the history and spirit of the Olympics. In the past, I have been less than thrilled with some of the opening ceremonies from other Olympics, ones that forgot the purpose of these festivities: to welcome, to celebrate, and to delight in the achievements of dedicated athletes. Others have been delightful. I still chuckle thinking of London, with the Queen apparently parachuting into the stadium with James Bond, an event that also featured luminaries like Kenneth Branagh and J.K. Rowling.

Italy’s event fell squarely in the delightful camp. While there were some lovely, artistic, pleas for peace and unity, the overall event was free of posturing, virtue-signaling celebrities and arty exhibitions of hedonism bordering on pornography. Instead, the Italians welcomed the world with lovely performances that honored the country’s culture and history. I was particularly delighted with the Cupid and Psyche sequence honoring art and myth and the wonderful concluding space tribute featuring astronaut Samantha Cristoforetti, an Italian legend and the first person to make espresso on the ISS. Of course, there were dances and pop stars (and a couple of jokes about Snoop Dogg’s coverage of the Jamaican bobsled team) that went over the heads of younger viewers, but overall, it was an event suitable for all ages and respectful of tradition and hospitality. The coverage of the torch’s journey from Greece and the lighting of the cauldrons was inspirational, as was the sight of the teams excited for their moment in the spotlight

My daughter and I agreed that the Olympics are best when they feel like a great visit to World Showcase at EPCOT: a celebration of the things that pull us together, a tribute to beauty and excellence. We are not fooled. We know that many of the world leaders sitting together in the arena are actively plotting against one another’s’ countries, that some nations only brought male athletes because their countries are run by regimes that repress women, that there are athletes competing who may behave in less than ethical ways. This is, after all, an event created by and made up of humans. We must never be so foolish as to confuse a couple of jubilant weeks of humans on mostly good behavior with the kind of perfection only God can give. Yet, when we see moments like the Olympics, or a successful launch of a spacecraft furthering exploration and knowledge, it sometimes seems like God is showing us just a glimpse of the possible potential we have. At the same time, our human predilection to befoul beautiful things is a reminder that we are fallen creatures, that without the salvation found in only Christ, we will pervert and destroy all we touch.

That is why the opening ceremonies of the Hunger Games are a corruption of the Olympics. In Panem, entertainment has taken the place of religion, and the hedonistic Capitol mindset leaves no room for philanthropy or compassion. Instead of a celebration of sport and excellence, the Hunger Games are a celebration of power, a punishment for a war that has been long over. Yet, they retain familiar trappings, like the thematic dress of the Tributes, the coverage of the competition, and the interviews with family and friends back home. In perverting these and other elements that we associate with events like the Olympics, the Capitol demonstrates the decay of the society it rules. Suzanne Collins has beautifully woven familiar threads into her novels, threads that show us how this dark future could grow from a bright past.

As if aware of this shadow, the Olympic programmers included a nice opening piece comparing the craftmanship of Milan’s iconic Duomo to the skill, patience, and desire for excellence required of Olympians. The piece was nice, if a bit heavy on human artistry and light on glorifying God with our gifts, but the fascinating bit was that it was narrated by Stanley Tucci, who played Caesar Flickerman in the Hunger Games film adaptations. He was not, I am sure, chosen for that reason, but for his connections to Italy and his wonderful voice. Yet, I was interested in the irony of the same voice welcoming viewers to the Olympics in Milan and introducing the Victors about to die for the audience’s entertainment in Panem.

For now, I will enjoy watching a wide array of athletes jump, slide, and swoosh. Perhaps some of them normally live under governments as repressive as the Capitol. Some, surely, have been mistreated as surely as the Careers groomed for violence and death or the Victors whose actions are controlled by threats upon those they love. There will be sore losers, there will be scandals, there will be injuries. But for now, there will also be triumphs, there will be opportunities for people of faith to reach those who are seeking, there will be friendships formed, there will be positive memories made by those participating and those watching. I am grateful for these gifts, these reminders of the good, even as I also remember how humans can break the gifts God gives us. Over the next few weeks, may we all be reminded to treat with care the gifts we have been given, so that our lives will look more like Milano-Cortina, and less like the Capitol.

All Fun and Games

In the Bleak Midwinter