This time last year, social media buzzed with numerous posts from Christian people outraged by a scene in the opening ceremony of the Paris Olympics. It wasn’t the whole ceremony—just one part. I blogged about it back then.

Central Figure

The anger was directed at French entertainer Philippe Katerine, who was painted blue, wore budgie smugglers and flowers, and sported a yellow beard. Katerine lay on a giant fruit platter and sang a song. Surrounded by a few others, the tableau was placed on a river barge and floated down the Seine.

However, some viewers and commentators misinterpreted the scene, thinking it was a mockery of Leonardo da Vinci’s painting The Last Supper. This misunderstanding became a classic example of missing the point and sparked outrage.

The Point That Was Missed!

You see, this scene had nothing to do with da Vinci’s painting, or Jesus, or the Christian faith. Katerine’s character was a representation of Dionysus, the Greek god of wine and celebration. It was, after all, the opening ceremony of the Olympics, which originated in Olympia, held in honour of Zeus, about three-quarters of a millennium before Jesus was born.

The ceremony’s artistic director, Thomas Jolly, said, “You will never find in me a desire to mock and denigrate anyone.” Philippe Katerine stated the performance was a message for peace, referencing current wars in places like Gaza and Ukraine. The performance highlighted the idea of harmlessness, as a naked person cannot conceal a weapon. It also connected the origins of the Olympic Games, which depicted naked athletes.

Misunderstood

Have you ever been misunderstood? I have, and it’s not a pleasant experience. You do or say something with genuine motives and an honest heart, only to be entirely caught off guard when you’re misinterpreted and others take offence. You try to justify yourself— “I didn’t mean it that way”—but the more you speak, the deeper you dig yourself into a hole, and you come across as defensive.

The Olympic organisers tried to calm people’s misunderstandings by providing context and even apologising, but the [Christian] people were already fired up and didn’t want to be pacified. Heck, venting on social media is just so much fun.

I invite you to pause, reflect, and ask yourself, “Did our outrage make any difference?” Probably not. Maybe people just saw us, touchy, easily offended Christians, roll their eyes, and step further away.

I’ve watched this sort of behaviour for decades now and long for the days when we grow up and start living in a way that shows the fruit of the Spirit — you know, all that stuff about gentleness, kindness, and the like.

The Way Forward

Before you respond to something that angers you, remember Proverbs 18:13: ‘Spouting off before listening to the facts is both shameful and foolish.‘ The way Christians reacted last year was shameful and foolish—God’s words, not mine. So, before you vent—anywhere—pause, breathe, and ensure you have all the facts.

James 1:19 offers another piece of wisdom: ‘Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry.’ And then there’s Ephesians 4:26, which advises, ‘In your anger do not sin.‘ It’s okay to feel angry, but we must exercise self-control (a fruit of the Spirit) to prevent our anger from turning into sin.

Forgiveness

One of the most gracious voices this time last year was Philippe Katerine himself. There he was in the midst of controversy and angry Christians, and his response? “The most beautiful thing about the Christian faith is forgiveness.”

Even if that scene on the Seine was mocking da Vinci’s painting and Jesus’ Last Supper, where was our Christian forgiveness and grace? Sadly absent. Why is indignation so often our default mechanism when our Saviour taught us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us, that we may be children of our Father in heaven?

Respect

Another thing to remember when you’re feeling offended or outraged is to show respect. Think of Paul in Athens, who was deeply distressed to see that the city was full of idols. But when communicating with the locals, he didn’t let his troubled emotions spill over into his words—quite the opposite. Paul praised their religious devotion and referred to their idols as objects of worship. He spoke to them respectfully and used an idol altar as a starting point to share the gospel.

What if we had done that last year? There are numerous connections between the story of Dionysus and the gospel. For example, we could have spoken about Jesus turning water into wine—his first miracle that proved he was God because no person can do that. I know, I’ve been trying for years! Wine also represents Jesus’ blood poured out on the cross for humanity’s forgiveness.

The gospel is the message people need to hear from us, but all they hear is us whinging. It’s interesting to note that Paul wrote a lot about the Olympics (1 Corinthians 9:24-27; 1 Thessalonians 2:19-20; Galatians 5:7; Hebrews 12:1-3). And there wasn’t a hint of outrage in anything Paul taught. Not once did he warn Christians not to attend the games, which were centred around pagan worship of foreign gods. He used the Olympics as an example of discipleship.

Godly Outrage

I am not saying that we Christians should never be outraged. Some things happen in the world that make my blood boil. But I am frequently amazed by the battles we Christians choose. We pick on a blue guy sailing down the Seine, but say little about gross injustice.

What caused Jesus to become angry? It’s an important question because it guides what we should find offensive. For example, Jesus was upset by anyone who harmed children. We should also be outraged by the decades of child abuse in religious and other institutions, along with the cover-ups that followed. It appears that churches and Christians largely remain silent on this matter. Furthermore, Jesus was angry at hypocrisy and at those who exclude vulnerable or marginalised individuals.

Let’s work on understanding the root causes of our outrage and focus our energy on issues that truly matter. Let the world hear about God’s amazing love and grace as shown in Jesus, and make sure nothing distracts from it.

I’ve just had seven weeks off—my first long service leave in 32 years of leading Bayside Church. My time away included a break from social media. But that all changed on Monday, my first foray on Facebook for almost two months. And what greeted me? Numerous posts from Christian people who were outraged about the opening ceremony of the Paris Olympics.

Now, it wasn’t the entire ceremony that got their goat; it was just one scene, an apparent mockery of Leonardo da Vinci’s painting of the Last Supper by, wait for it, drag queens.

Christian Outrage

Our history is rich with instances of Christian outrage. When I transitioned from atheism to following Jesus in the late 70s, I was a DJ on a commercial rock radio station. The Christians I encountered were outraged about Rock ‘n’ Roll being the ‘devil’s music.’ We were cautioned about backward masking and how the drums in songs could summon evil spirits. This influenced me for a while, and there was pressure from my church to leave my radio job and stop playing ‘that’ music. I resisted the pressure, and I’m grateful I did. Radio has been a rewarding career for me. When I established Bayside Church, I supported myself, my wife, and my family for many years by working on the radio, as the church couldn’t afford to pay me much.

The outrage has shifted through the years from the satanic panic of the 1980s to the New Age movement and various movies and works of art. In 1988, Martin Scorsese’s movie The Last Temptation of Christ caused an uproar from multiple churches. The commotion gave the film all the free publicity it needed, and people went to see what they weren’t supposed to see. If Christians had ignored it, the movie would have flopped.

The same happened with an artwork called Piss Christ, a 1987 photograph by the American artist and photographer Andres Serrano. It depicts a small plastic crucifix submerged in a glass tank of the artist’s urine. Due to the controversy, Serrano received death threats, hate mail and lost grants. What if Christians had used the photo as an example of the gospel and presented the good news of Jesus entering the mess of humanity? But all we did was complain.

Nothing’s Changed

What concerns me most is that our default mechanism often appears to be outrage. We hear or see something and go straight to anger rather than calmly investigating the facts. We need to strive for a Christlike response, one that is rooted in love and understanding.

If people had done that with Andres Serrano’s photo, they would have realised it was a protest by the artist, who was concerned that people wore the crucifix as a fashion accessory rather than acknowledging it as an instrument of torture and death. To quote his own words, “When you see it, you’re not horrified by it at all, but what it represents is the crucifixion of a man.” What if we had listened and asked and investigated rather than protested? Piss Christ would have made a tremendous springboard for Christians to share the gospel—the message people need to hear from us, the message Jesus told us to spread—but all they hear is us whining. However, we still need to learn the lesson, as evidenced by many complaints about the scene at the Olympic Opening this week.

Appropriate Outrage?

If we had just calmed down, asked questions and investigated the truth, we’d have discovered that the scene had nothing to do with da Vinci’s The Last Supper but was a nod to Greek mythology and the Greek god Dionysius, the god of celebration connected to the gods of Olympus from which the Olympic games were named. The ceremony’s artistic director, Thomas Jolly, said, “You will never find in me a desire to mock and denigrate anyone.” This underscores the importance of investigating the truth before reacting, as it could prevent unnecessary outrage.

So, what have outraged Christians achieved? Has anyone heard the good news about Jesus? Are people getting the message that God loves them and has reconciled them to himself? Not at all. All they hear is the same droning from Christians who get irritated when they don’t get their way. Our actions and attitudes are the opposite of Christlike behaviours and the teachings of Scripture. We must remember that our main goal as Christians is to become increasingly like Jesus and reflect his nature to the world he loves, the world he died to save. This should guide our response to controversial issues.

Paul’s Writings

Paul often used the Olympic games as examples of Christian living in his letters. (Consider 1 Corinthians 9:24-27; 1 Thessalonians 2:19-20; Galatians 5:7; Hebrews 12:1-3. There are many other references, and I encourage you to explore them).

And here’s the thing: There wasn’t a hint of outrage in anything Paul wrote about the Olympics of his day. Not once did he warn Christians not to attend the games, which were centred around pagan worship of foreign gods. Paul didn’t fume that all the athletes who competed in the games from 776 BC to 393 AD did so thoroughly naked. He did not complain that only men were allowed to attend the games. Women were banned. Paul’s tent-making in Corinth with Priscilla and Aquila likely was to build the athletes’ accommodation for the games. Maybe Paul was a fan.

But Emperor Theodosius changed all that in 393 AD by banning the games as a blasphemous pagan festival because he was a, you guessed it, Christian. The modern Olympics were resurrected in 1896 with clothed athletes.

Fun fact: the word gymnasium comes from the Greek word gymnos, which means “naked.” So, if you’re an outraged Christian and you go to a gym, you might like to reconsider.

Jesus Outrage

What made Jesus angry? It’s an essential question because it serves as a model for legitimate indignation.

Jesus was outraged by:

Jesus taught his followers the law of love: love God, love one another, love your enemy, and love your neighbour. He said to treat others as you would like them to treat you. He explained that when we feed the hungry, visit the sick or prisoners, and welcome the stranger, it’s as if we were doing those things for Jesus himself. These are the things the followers of Jesus are to be known for, and plenty of that is happening quietly and without fanfare.

But the world invariably hears our complaining, as it has once again heard this week. Our message is good news, and anything we do or say that detracts from the main message is an enemy of the gospel. How about we stop getting offended on Jesus’ behalf and get on with the incredible work he’s called us to?