AS WE made our way to the Stade de France for the first morning of the athletics, my son counted fans from 38 different countries, displaying their national insignia.

Inside, the field events — men’s hammer, women’s high jump, and men’s decathlon — took place at the same time as the races: women’s 100m and men’s 1500m heats. Not many countries have the money to send an eventing team, but pretty much every nation has someone who can run or jump. Over three hours, we witnessed 207 competitors from 114 different countries.

Since my invitation to the Coronation got lost in the post, this was, comfortably, the greatest global diversity that I have ever seen in one place — like a Lambeth Conference, but with more running and less anguish about human sexuality. For the spectators, it was a carnival, in which everyone was in a good mood.

When a French decathlete lobbed his shot put 50 feet, the crowd roared its approval, and then sighed as a stocky Canadian in a loose white shirt lolloped up to the hammer circle and miraculously sent this strange ball-and-chain soaring 80 metres across the turf. He then pottered back to his warm-up bench, as if he had just done a morning stretch.

The races went by in excitement, and it was all such fun that it made me think that Lambeth Conferences might benefit if they included a 1500m competition in the programme. If 1500m was felt to be a bit much for bishops, then they could surely manage 100m. Or beach volleyball, at least.

In the afternoon, we went to the football, and the geniality largely dissipated. In an athletics stadium, you can be “for” someone, but you do not have to be “against” anyone; a team sport is much more oppositional. This match, Morocco v. the United States, in the men’s quarter-finals, was more intense than any English football that I have witnessed.

The stadium was three-quarters Moroccan. The Moroccan national anthem was sung with visceral ferocity; and interspersed with the Moroccan flags were a fair few Palestinian ones.

Once the match started, the poor Americans were booed whenever they touched the ball. The Moroccan players swarmed over them, and the Moroccan goals mounted up; they won 4-0 in the end. After each goal, some spectators let off fire crackers, and, on the pitch, all ten outfield players first hugged and embraced, and then prostrated themselves on the ground in prayer.

Religion, politics, joy, rage — the Olympics has it all.

The Revd Robert Stanier is Vicar of St Andrew and St Mark, Surbiton, in the diocese of Southwark.