CNN was flustered and giddy, gushing that the 2024 Olympic Games “promised an opening ceremony unlike any other and it delivered.” “A Paris party on a Friday night.” Is that what it was?
Or was it a dystopian pagan nightmare on the Seine?
Olympic opening ceremonies are typically lavish and designed to inspire. They go all in celebrating on the world stage as premier athletes come together to compete on behalf of their nation. Legends are born at the Olympics with such famous moments as black American Jesse Owens defying Nazi ideology, or the 1980 “Miracle on Ice” when the U.S. hockey team beat the Soviets. Names like Mary Lou Retton, Sugar Ray Leonard and Michael Phelps went from gold medals to Wheaties boxes.
The traditional parade of flags has been a staple since the 1908 London Olympic Games. Athletes march together carrying the flag of their nation, celebrating years of training culminating in one of the grandest of celebrations. France was not to be outdone for 2024.
And then it got weird.
This year’s parade of flags floated down the Seine River in pouring rain. Eighty-five boats carried the athletes and their flags for the onset of the nearly four-hour montage of post-modernism. Then a single faceless rider on a pale horse seemed to ride on the water. Shades of Revelation 6:8 came to mind.
In what may have been a harbinger of things to come, the Olympic flag itself was inadvertently raised upside down. But the night had only just begun.
The show shifted to the Palais de Justice where a metal band played from various balconies while a convincingly beheaded Marie Antoinette sang to the crowd. When I say convincingly, I mean it. Her bloody head sang while being held by her headless body while faux blood fell in streamers on the crowd.
But the coup de grace came with the march of the transgenders. In an event rivaling any scenes from The Hunger Games, 18 drag queens performed a parody of the Last Supper. You read that right.
With the Eiffel Tower in the background, an odd assortment of writhing, bizarrely-clad figures gathered behind a long table. A bearded dude in lingerie and large breasts sang a seductive song because, well, that just made sense. At the center of the disturbing mosh was one ornately clad figure wearing a large silver halo making the heart sign with his/her/its hands, while the other gaudy disciples struck poses reminiscent of Leonardo da Vinci’s portrayal of Christ’s Last Supper with the actual disciples.
They weren’t done. A large gold-plated serving tray came to rest in front of the mockery of the Last Supper, and when the cover rose ceremonially, the world was treated to a man, naked but for the slightest of foliage, painted blue with dustings of gold and sporting a bright yellow beard. The naked Smurf man sang a song … sort of … in what is already being referred to as the “Blue Scrotum” performance.
The whole thing was cringeworthy. Bizarre. Tasteless. The focus was never once on the athletes who had trained for years and traveled from afar for the honor of competition. It was instead on hedonism, with every effort made to shock the sensibilities and offend the faith of billions.
Who came up with this? What planning sessions devised this gawkish, pretentious assault on the senses? What discussions led to it? Can you imagine being in that boardroom? “So here’s the plan, let’s do something capturing a scene from Christianity, but let’s do it with half-naked fake people snaking around in a visual acid trip and we’ll call it art. Everybody good with that? Don’t worry about those Christians … it’s going to be magical!”
“Above all, I want this ceremony to include everyone,” Thomas Jolly, artistic director for the Paris Olympics, effusively stated. “We must all celebrate this diversity.”
Somehow, he missed the mark, given the deliberate effort to offend most of the known world and the followers of the world’s largest religion. I’d say Friday evening fails to qualify as a means to “include everyone.” By the way, Jolly is also in charge of the closing ceremonies.
“This was extremely disrespectful to Christians,” Elon Musk posted on X. I believe that was the purpose. Let’s just imagine what it would have been like if a group of transgender influencers did a b-roll mockery of Muhammad or Buddha. Paris would be on fire right now.
But this one thing I do know: “Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows.” (Galatians 6:7)
Am I just not artsy enough? Do I lack a certain bon vivant existentialism that blooms from my inner self into expressions of preternatural wonder and self-expression? Dang, right, I do. And I’m good with that.
Let’s be clear: This was not art, and it was certainly not the Olympics. It was designed to be an in-your-face affront.
But really, it was more than that. It was a spit-in-the-eye to Christianity. It was an assault on the senses, designed to shock and flagrantly denigrate the faith that makes us whole. Christians the world over should make their thoughts known about the sham that was the 2024 Olympics opening ceremony.
But in the end, it is the portrayers and not the portrayed who will be at a loss. God will not be mocked.
Rest in peace, Olympics.
To contact Phil or request him for a speaking engagement, go to www.rightsideradio.org. The views and opinions expressed here are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the policy or position of 1819 News. To comment, please send an email with your name and contact information to Commentary@1819News.com.
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