To anyone who knows me, I live for stories. My perfect day includes sweat pants, a salad from Chipotle, my bed, and a good book. But there comes a time when a book, a series, a plot line, or story reel you into a land you can actually believe you belong in. A land where salads are hard to come by, laying in bed all day is nothing more than lethargy, and freedom is more than wearing elastic waist banded pants.

The Hunger Games isn’t a hit because of sparkly vampires, or love-sick teenagers, or to-the-death competitions. That’s been done before. What separates Katniss Everdeen from any other heroine is we are welcomed to confront the harsh of a not-so-unbelievable future, and the responsibilities that it entails.

I’ve spoken about Hunger Games before, but for those who are too cool for school and don’t read, here’s a synopsis: The Hunger Games is an annual event that recruits children for a public fight-to-the-death in order to win a year’s supply of food from the wealthy Capitol for their district. Though this concept is a new level of savage, even the series’ most adolescent fans can see the links between the dystopian world of Panem and our own. The book makes no secret of the fact that its Capitol and 12 districts represent the deteriorating remains of today’s United States. It depicts an exaggerated version of the country’s wealth gap, society’s celebration of vanity and indifference to violence, the poorer classes’ growing unrest and distrust, even reality TV’s perverse and inescapable obsession with watching people destroy themselves and each other. In a time when social causes can become trends and Occupy protests can dominate headlines for months, it is no wonder America was ready for a Katniss Everdeen to step forward.

Some critics and even some of my friends [cough, cough, Melanie, cough] express concern about the amount of violence depicted in the trilogy. In a land of no rules, everything feels like a parallel world of Lord of the Flies meets Gladiator. But The Hunger Games attempts to illustrate the lengths humanity is willing to go to when it is denied its most basic needs and rights. What are we most willing to sacrifice for and fight to protect?

In Panem, The Hunger Games serve as a cruel reminder of just how desperate and enslaved the people’s hunger has made them—a corrupt “bread and circuses” system that alludes to the cruel practices of the ancient Roman empire . But just as Katniss and Peeta’s journey demonstrates—and as a man from Nazareth once claimed—people cannot live on bread alone.

Sustenance may be essential for physical survival, yes. But a deprived people also have greater social, spiritual and relational needs; even the characters whose physical needs are met are often marked by deep dissatisfaction. The people of Panem were hungry for much more than goat cheese and fresh bread. Perhaps that’s one reason the tributes of District 12 have so quickly captured America’s hearts; their struggle for survival brings to light what everyone truly hungers for.

The twin values I loved about the series the most was the idea of freedom and faith. Because of my faith, I fight for freedom. Not just mine, but for those without it. In a twisted, demented, and totally immature attribution, I saw myself in Katniss. Independent, a liberator, and a protector of those she loves.

Freedom
Beneath the dysfunctional government and desolate districts of Panem, readers can immediately sense the characters are aching for a change—aching for the opportunity to have a voice, to contribute, to be recognized. Though the theme sees greater focus in Catching Fire and Mockingjay, in The Hunger Games we witness the birth of Katniss’ mission to defy the oppression of the Capitol and restore the freedom of every person.

Suzanne Collins presents a land literally dying to move beyond the limitations of district, of class and of gender. Though the Capitol has lumped them together—just another dead body in the arena, just another worker down in the mines, just another little girl picking in the orchard—Collins subtly shows the reader that each person has potential, and is deserving of the chance to exercise it. Her choice of protagonist—a young female from a poor district—is evidence of this message. Even the wealthy, superficial stylists, game makers and Capitol representatives evoke sympathy from the reader—eventually, we recognize all of them have become pawns in an elaborate game that neutralizes the power of personhood.

Faith
Unlike, say, the Harry Potter series, The Hunger Games isn’t a tale dripping with Scriptural parallels and undeniable allegory. In fact, The Hunger Games paints a picture of a world where religion has quite frankly starved to death. And the image is a bleak one. But unlike, say, Twilight, The Hunger Games has much more to communicate about love, sacrifice and justice than your typical modern young adult series.

Perhaps the most righteous character we find in this story is the beloved “boy with the bread.” Peeta Mellark is kind to a fault. He is giving. He is slow to anger, but quick to defend others. When we first meet him, he’s risking a beating to provide bread for Katniss’ family, wanting nothing in return. While even our heroine at times relies on her powers of manipulation or allows despair and anger to direct her actions (and her bow), Peeta is a glowing example of counter-cultural authenticity and radical love. In Peeta’s famous monologue the night before the tributes are sent to battle in the arena, he expresses his intent to maintain “his purity of self,” even though behaving otherwise could be easier, even safer for him. “I don’t know how to say it exactly. Only … I want to die as myself … I don’t want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I’m not.”

Religion may be a non-entity in the dreary landscape of Panem. But it’s easy to see that some of its inhabitants are propelled by the unseen and powerful influence of hope, of “right,” even when they don’t know exactly what they believe.

What is right is not always easiest; it’s an imperfect and fallen world. But The Hunger Games brings to mind the call to “act justly, to love mercy and to walk humbly with our God.” We may not have to live our life in an arena, but neither do we live in a vacuum.

So… who’s in? Who’s going to see it this weekend? Please don’t tell me if it’s bad or good. I haven’t seen it and won’t have time until Monday.