Skip to main content

Fools for Christ in a Squid Games World

Today the Church celebrates Peter and Paul—two towering apostles—on the same day. One was impulsive, broken, restored; the other was brilliant, relentless, converted. One denied, the other persecuted. Both became martyrs. Both laid down their lives for love.

Two pillars of the Church.

But what if we imagined their mission not in the comforting glow of stained glass but in the harsh fluorescent lights of a place like Squid Games?

As for those who are not aware of Squid Games, a popular series on Netflix, it follows desperate individuals who enter a deadly competition of childhood games for a massive cash prize. Beneath the surface, it’s a dark critique of capitalism, survival, and human dignity. The players are forced to choose between betrayal and compassion in a system rigged for blood.

At first glance, it seems outrageous. How could the violent world of Netflix’s Squid Game—a dystopian death-match fuelled by debt, greed, and manipulation—have anything to do with the apostles of Christ? But that’s the point. It is precisely in places like this—places of despair, abandonment, and inhumanity—that the Gospel is most needed, and where Peter and Paul, in their day, dared to go.

Like Squid Game’s Gi-hun, Peter knew failure intimately. He denied the One he loved, crumbled under fear, and wept bitterly. But Jesus met him not with condemnation, but with a burning question: “Do you love me?” The resurrected Christ didn’t discard Peter’s weakness; He transformed it into a mission. Feed my sheep. Suffer for them. Die for them.

Paul, the zealous persecutor turned “fool for Christ,” saw through the games of status and religion. In the arenas of empire, where power played like a game of thrones, Paul preached a crucified Messiah—a message as absurd then as it is now. He proclaimed a Gospel where the last are first, the weak are strong, and love always wins… even when it looks like loss.

Now imagine them—Peter and Paul—walking into the Squid Games.

Not to win.

But to lose… intentionally.

To offer themselves in the place of the trembling and exploited. To tie a jacket of dignity around a humiliated player. To share their last marble, not with calculation but compassion. To shatter the system not with violence, but with witness.

Spreading the Gospel, the good news of the Kingdom of God is not a spectator sport. It is not spiritual entertainment. It is the costly descent into the arena of suffering. It is Christ crucified in the alleyways of our broken economies, in refugee camps, in corporate boardrooms where human dignity is weighed in currency.

Peter and Paul knew this.

They were not the Church triumphant. They were the Church bleeding. One crucified upside down. The other beheaded on a Roman road. Fools by the world’s standards. Heroes of a kingdom that is not built on winners, but on love.

Squid Game isn’t just a critique of capitalism. It’s a parable—a grotesque mirror—showing how we devalue each other when we believe survival matters more than solidarity. But Peter and Paul give us a different story: not survival, but surrender; not dominance, but self-gift.

In the third season of Squid Game, Gi-hun makes the ultimate sacrifice—not for money, not for redemption, but for the life of a child caught in a cruel system not of her making. In a world that sees people as disposable, he offers himself so that a baby might live and be free. It’s not strategy. It’s not survival. It’s love—costly, foolish, Christlike love. Gi-hun does things all throughout that doesn't make sense to the world. But that's what matters, taking the narrow path for a transformation to happen.

That is the Church’s wager too.

Peter and Paul staked their lives on the hope that love would win, even when it looked foolish. In a world of squid games, may we do the same.

In a world where life is often a game of survival, what would it look like for you to lose for someone else’s sake?
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Tongue of Fire for Me (A Pentecost Imagination)

The room is dim, quiet, and heavy with breathless anticipation. I am there—hidden among the disciples, tucked behind John, near the window that barely lets in the morning light. My heart beats fast, echoing like a drum in my chest. Fear? Maybe. Or perhaps, a holy kind of longing. The air is still, but charged. Every face carries the wear of grief and confusion, yet strangely, an ember of hope. “He told us to wait,” Peter whispers, more to himself than anyone. And so, we wait. And then… it happens. A sound roars through the room— not of this world —a wind without warning. It’s not cold, not warm, just… alive. My hair lifts. My lungs gasp. The walls tremble, but no one runs. We are too stunned, too caught in the awe of it. And then—flames. Not flames that consume, but flames that choose. One by one, they rest on each head, as if kissing us awake. I feel something stir above me, and then… it touches me too. Fire. But it doesn’t burn. It ignites . Something ancient yet utte...
Post a Comment
Read more

"IF I WERE A SALESMAN" Selling What’s Already Free!!!

If I were a salesman—let’s say, selling luxury car or the latest phone—I’d be all in. Smiling wide, shaking hands, wearing that irritatingly bright blazer, I’d pitch the product like my life depended on it. Why? Because there’s commission, perks, and prestige. A sale is a step up. Every “yes” is a personal triumph. And if I get to the top of the leaderboard? Champagne and applause! Now switch scenes. Baptism. I was signed up—commissioned, even—to proclaim the Kingdom of God. But here’s the funny part: No blazer. No mic. No crowd. No “Employee of the Month” board at church. Just… silence. And yet, the reward? Eternal life, joy that doesn’t expire, peace that politicians can’t trademark, and love that doesn’t need a subscription. And still, I hesitate. In John 16:12–15, Jesus says something radical: “When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth.” It's like getting a top-notch marketing strategist thrown in—free. But we ignore Him. Because let’...
Post a Comment
Read more

What if Pope Leo XIII Walked Our Streets Today

Rerum Novarum Reimagined If Pope Leo XIII were to walk the bustling streets of our 21st-century world—past silent skyscrapers towering above slums, past digital stock tickers racing beside empty hands—his heart would throb with the same fire that inspired Rerum Novarum in 1891. Yet he would not merely echo the past; he would reimagine his encyclical to speak prophetically into our fractured present. In Rerum Novarum, Leo XIII gave birth to Catholic social teaching by daring to challenge both unbridled capitalism and the rising tide of socialism. He stood with the worker, the family, and the common good. Today, with artificial intelligence replacing labor, gig economies devouring stability, and billionaires sailing in space while the poor drown in floods, Leo would not be silent. He would ask: Who is the human being in a world that measures worth by productivity, followers, and profit?   Leo would notice that our global village has grown, but our neighborliness has shrunk. The worke...
Post a Comment
Read more