I must have missed it live, but when I saw in my social media feed the supposed “Last Supper” display at the opening ceremony of the Paris Olympics, I shrugged, had some vague thoughts about Frenchness and cringe attempts at being avant garde, but I kept scrolling and moved on with my evening.
Turns out, I should have been outraged—so moved at the mocking of my religion that I should have posted about it, prayed and fasted in reparation for the blasphemy, and probably posted about that fasting for good measure.
The church came together, from different ends of both the world and the ideological spectrum, to condemn what they saw as the mocking of an image sacred to Christians for hundreds of years.
The organizers issued an apology, but clarified that they did not intend to depict the Last Supper, but the Greek god Dionysus. Still, the parallels to the Last Supper were hard to miss. But I’m not interested in going down a Da Vinci Coded rabbit hole about whether it was Jesus or Dionysus, whether the organizers or actors intended the parallels, or even asking what specifically people found offensive about the display.
The truth is, I just don’t care all that much about being insulted. I don’t think you should care that much. And I don’t think Jesus cares all that much, either!
But I do care about how we respond. And I think this moment lays out the possibilities of, and problems with, the church’s approach to evangelization in the 21st century.
From one vantage point, the church is under attack. From this perspective, in an increasingly secular West, our values, lifestyles, beliefs are under attack. The world treats us with contempt. Our religious freedom is threatened. (Don’t worry about paying too much attention to those places where it is severely restricted.) The church is losing power, and we need to do something about it. We need to defend our God and our church.
This point of view is captured succinctly by Elon Musk, who posted on X the night of the opening ceremony: “Unless there is more bravery to stand up for what is fair and right, Christianity will perish.” Bishop Robert Barron of Winona-Rochester commented on Musk’s post, saying: “My mentor Cardinal Francis George remarked that the Christian faith can be lost in a single generation, if Christians aren’t vigilant.”
I have become increasingly convinced that this defensive posture is a more effective recruitment message for populist politicians than it is for evangelization.
Here’s the thing: In the United States and Europe, it’s true that the world is more secular. I grant that premise. But I don’t think we’ve developed an effective response to that situation.
Pope Francis described this in “Evangelii Gaudium.” “In some places a spiritual ‘desertification’ has evidently come about, as the result of attempts by some societies to build without God or to eliminate their Christian roots.” But he also encourages us, quoting Pope Benedict, to respond to this new terrain not with contempt or righteous defense, but with joy and hope:
“In the desert we rediscover the value of what is essential for living; thus in today’s world there are innumerable signs, often expressed implicitly or negatively, of the thirst for God, for the ultimate meaning of life. And in the desert people of faith are needed who, by the example of their own lives, point out the way to the Promised Land and keep hope alive”. In these situations we are called to be living sources of water from which others can drink. At times, this becomes a heavy cross, but it was from the cross, from his pierced side, that our Lord gave himself to us as a source of living water. Let us not allow ourselves to be robbed of hope!
The Olympics surely are not without their own set of problems, but the unbridled joy and excitement that billions around the world feel watching the world come together for sports is a moment of cooperation and togetherness that the United Nations could only dream of.
Indeed, Pope Francis posted on X the day the Olympics started, “The authentic Olympic and Paralympic spirit is an antidote against the tragedy of war and a way to put an end to violence. May sport build bridges, break down barriers, and foster peaceful relations.” For a pope who has made it a priority of his pontificate to remind the world that we are “brothers and sisters, all,” the Olympics are an event where the world is more ready than ever to listen to that message.
I am only a casual Olympics viewer at best (I am cheering as loud as I can for LeBron James to lead the U.S. Men’s Basketball team to another gold). And even I managed to find several moments of consolation in the opening ceremony: Celine Dion delivering an incredible comeback performance after suffering a debilitating medical diagnosis; Italian high jumper Gianmarco Tamberi losing his wedding ring in the Seine and posting a beautiful apology to his wife; 100-year-old French Olympian, Charles Coste, helping with the final Olympic torch relay.
People are ready to be moved when they turn on the Olympics—feel-good stories abound! If you seek it out, you will find the church there, ready to offer the Good News.
But there are loud voices drowning out all of that with outrage. Instead of inviting people in, I fear most people will come away from the Olympics viewing us as the church who cried persecution.
