The Hunger Games: First Thoughts

 The revolution will not be televised.  But there are three books, a movie and more to come. 
            The revolution in question is that found in The Hunger Games, the three book series that tells the story of Katniss, a teenage girl caught up in the lethal reality show called the Hunger Games, a violent ritual found at the heart of the post-US country called Panem.  The story is disturbing, compelling, popular, and, as we at Trinity are beginning to discover, strongly connected to the Christian story.  Our first Sunday discussion brought us some surprising insights. 

            The surprise is in the parallels between the fictional world of The Hunger Games and the historical reality of the Roman Empire into which Christianity was born.  The name of the country is the first clue—Panem, short for panem et circenses, a Latin expression meaning bread and circuses.  This phrase stands, as a Hunger Games character explains, for the Roman policy of providing enough free food and (violent) entertainment to keep the people distracted from the problems of their society.  In this fictional world of bread and circuses comes the possibility of change, in the form of a revolution accidentally sparked by Katniss who then serves the rebels as symbol and conscience.  Now what’s the Christian parallel? 

            Are Christians revolutionaries? What revolution did Jesus spark? I don’t have a lot of patience with the claim that Jesus’ primary message was one of social justice and reform, but there is no denying that the Christian message was  socially disruptive back in those Roman Empire days. That’s what happens when you start imagining hope.  Jesus said that his new community was like yeast in dough—unseen, but once added to the flour everything changes. The yeast of believing, for example, that there is no Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female, changes the old social divisions.  New loyalties, new hierarchies—who knows where it might end.  Just as in The Hunger Games Katniss tries to convince President Snow that she is no threat to way things are, the early Christians tried to pretend they were harmless. Pray for the emperor, Paul urged the Christian in Rome. His message wasn’t just for them, but for a nervous government as well.  See–Christians are loyal subjects, not dangerous at all.  But it was no use. Like President Snow, the Roman Empire knew better.

            Heirs of a revolutionary faith that we are– there any revolution left in us? Should there be?  Are Christians are just like everyone else (except maybe nicer)? Does being “not of this world” just refer to cashing in that heavenly ticket at the end of life, or is there a practical side to Jesus’ advice? 

            What surprised me about the heroine of the Hunger Games is how reluctant she is to be the hero. Katniss isn’t your typical leader; she’s just trying to survive and protect only her own people.  But eventually her compassion grows, and she uses the wisdom she has gained through her experiences to do what no one else can for the good of all. 

            In a similar way, being part of a revolution isn’t exactly what we intended in coming to church.  Just keeping the church running takes a lot of energy. We might think about doing more, but being a revolutionary isn’t as much fun as reading about it.  No one really wants to hear about what should change.  So we try going about our business, nothing to see here. But… maybe it’s that nagging sense that the way things are isn’t all so blessed or our own restlessness for something more, or our anger at the way things are, but that question comes up:  Is this all Jesus died for?  Once we notice, there’s no going back—hope becomes a word referring to more than heavenly rewards; the Gospel has cracked our institutional limits, and the revolution begins again.
            So now, back to Trinity:  as everyone says all over the Internet, we are in a time of change.  What’s next is not clear. It seems to me the first step has to be recognizing the Spirit’s presence in a new, even revolutionary way.  We know what it looks like when we are blessed with the sorts of gifts we give thanks for—for family, friends, jobs, health, and homes.  The blessings of a revolution are different.  Here’s a quick outline, from a Franciscan prayer:


May God bless you with a restless discomfort about easy answers, half-truths and superficial relationships, so that you may seek truth boldly and love deep within your heart.
May God bless you with holy anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that you may tirelessly work for justice, freedom, and peace among all people.
May God bless you with the gift of tears to shed with those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation, or the loss of all that they cherish, so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and transform their pain into joy.
May God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you really CAN make a difference in this world, so that you are able, with God’s grace, to do what others claim cannot be done.



Frightening?  Inspiring?  We have to keep an eye out—you never know when the Gospel might show up!  

So what do you think?  Is Jesus’ yeast out there?  Share what you know of the revolution:

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4 Responses

  1. I love that section of a prayer. It's not what you would typically ask for from God, but it's what we all need.
    cassie

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