Widgets, the Olympics, and the Body of Christ
Wednesday, February 11, 2026
written by Kate Satterstrom
I love hearing people talk about what they love. Tell me about your job, your passion, the thing you could spend hours explaining to a stranger. Even if I understand nothing about your particular “widget,” enthusiasm is contagious. There is something life-giving about listening to someone speak with passion about the work they do and the skills they’ve spent years honing.
That’s why I love the Olympics.
This past Friday night, I watched the opening ceremony of the 2026 Winter Olympics in Italy, and once again found myself captivated. There is something powerful about the world gathering to celebrate people who have devoted their lives to doing one thing extraordinarily well. These athletes are the best of the best. And from my couch, I predictably became a sappy mess listening to stories of perseverance, discipline, and overcoming obstacles.
Every now and then, I think, I could do that, but the truth is, I would be broken into a million pieces attempting most Olympic events. That’s what makes the Olympics so compelling. For these athletes, their “widget” is their body: trained, refined, and presented on the world stage as an expression of passion and skill. Someone I didn’t know days ago suddenly becomes my hero because of the way they snowboard or slalom down a hill.
After missing the podium in the women’s skiathlon, U.S. skier Jessie Diggins was interviewed about her disappointing result. Even in that moment, her response was marked by gratitude—for her competitors, for the privilege of being there, for hope of what comes next, and for the joy of competing at all. She revealed herself to not only be an athlete who trained her body well, but a person who understood the gift of standing among the best in the world.
It doesn’t take long—scrolling social media, watching the news, or talking with friends—to feel how divided our culture is right now. We sort people quickly and instinctively: political views, language, race, opinions on whatever the issue of the day may be. It’s exhausting to constantly assess who feels “safe.” Often, it seems easier to surround ourselves only with people who look, think, and believe as we do.
But Scripture offers a different vision. In 1 Corinthians 12, Paul describes the Body of Christ as a community that depends on difference. We don’t judge an ear by the standards of a foot. The body needs an eye just as much as it needs a hand. Different functions, different gifts, different purposes, none more important than another.
This is good news. If it were up to me alone to compete in the Olympics, we wouldn’t be bringing home medals. If it were up to me to cure disease, grow food, or write music, the world would be an inferior—and much more malnourished—place. We are better because of our varied “widgets.” There is more joy, more beauty, and more possibility when we honor the different gifts people bring.
Yes, this kind of community takes more energy, patience, and curiosity. But the more we resemble the Body of Christ, the more clearly we reflect the fullness of God.