A Weekend of Flags, Songs, and a Glimpse of Glory

I don’t usually blog free‑style. I’m a script‑writer by habit—I like shaping every sentence before I speak it. But today I’m just sharing something that’s been sitting with me after two events this weekend: the opening ceremony of the 2026 Winter Olympics in Italy, and Super Bowl 60.

Two very different moments.
Two very different worlds.
And yet both stirred something in me—something that felt like an echo of the Gospel story.

The Olympics: Beauty, Story, and a Parade of Nations

I’ve never been much of a sports guy, but I love the Olympics. Summer or winter, it doesn’t matter. There’s something about the opening ceremony that feels almost sacred.

The beauty.
The dance.
The history.
The way each host nation tells its story through art.

And then the march.

Athletes from every corner of the world walking in with their flags—smiling, recording the moment, taking it all in. It’s one of the few times the world gathers not to argue or divide, but to celebrate something together.

There’s something biblically beautiful about that.

The Super Bowl: A Moment of Tension, Then a Shift

Then came Super Bowl 60.

I watched the Bad Bunny halftime show. I didn’t know his music. I don’t speak Spanish. And at first, I felt conflicted.

Why isn’t he singing in English too?
What’s happening to football?
Why do I feel this way?

And then I caught myself.

I’m 39. In my entire lifetime, every Super Bowl performance I’ve seen has centered on English. Why shouldn’t this one be for someone else? What about the millions of Hispanic and Puerto Rican Americans watching—feeling seen, represented, proud?

Why was I bothered?

My allegiance isn’t to America.
It’s to Christ and His kingdom.

So why should I care what language is sung at a football game?

About halfway through the performance, something unexpected happened. A real wedding took place on the field — a bride and groom standing together in the middle of the music, the lights, and the crowd. It was surprising, joyful, and honestly… strangely beautiful.

And then, later, the end of the performance came.

Flags—so many flags—swept across the field. Bad Bunny called them out by name. People from different nations danced, laughed, and celebrated together.

And suddenly, it hit me.

This is a shadow.
A whisper.
An echo.

Revelation 7 in Real Time

“After this I looked, and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language…”

The Olympic parade of nations.
The multicultural halftime celebration.
The flags.
The faces.
The joy.
The unity.

They are not the thing itself.
But they point to it.

They stir hope.
They awaken longing.
They remind us that the story ends with a gathering far more beautiful than anything we’ve ever seen.

A day when the multinational, multilingual, diverse church of Christ stands together—not in competition, not in spectacle, but in worship.

These moments can’t compare to that day.
But they make me long for it.

Seeing the Story Beneath the Story

In a world filled with outrage, distraction, and division, I hope you were able—even for a moment—to look past the noise and see the echoes of the Gospel story this weekend.

Because they were there. And there is so much more to see.