The Boxer: Duane W.H. Arnold, PhD

The Boxer

“In the clearing stands a boxer

And a fighter by his trade

And he carries the reminders

Of every glove that laid him down

Or cut him till he cried out

In his anger and his shame

‘I am leaving, I am leaving’

But the fighter still remains…”

Paul Simon

It was January 1991.  I had been appointed a Fellow of the National Cathedral in Washington, D.C. for a three month period of research that also included some liturgical and preaching duties.  January 1991 was also the month we went to war to liberate Kuwait from Iraqi occupation.  The campaign began with a bombing campaign that would eventually entail 10,000 sorties and the dropping of 88,500 tons of high explosives.  Many of these bombs were laser guided.  Some bombs had video feeds.  As the campaign began, I sat and watched the television with the two other scholars who were serving their fellowships with me.  We were fascinated with the technology, even though we knew that people were dying as a result of the bombing.  Finally, one of my fellow scholars, Stan, said, “It’s like pornography; you know it’s harmful and wrong, but you can’t take your eyes off the screen…”

In online discussions, fighting works.  It will drive traffic and interest to your blog or even to a Facebook post. When a conflict emerges on a comments thread we become voyeurs, following what is said, looking for winners and losers.  We suspect that harm is being done and we know that some of the attacks are wrong, but we cannot take our eyes off the screen.

Now clearly, there are matters worth fighting for and positions that are worth defending.  I suspect, however, that the real matters and positions worthy of conflict are far fewer than we might imagine.  People’s lives and safety, yes; the political intrigues of Washington, perhaps less so.  Creedal Christianity, yes; the minutiae of eschatological theories, probably not.  My particular passionate attachment to patristics and classical Anglican theology does not preclude a genuine regard and respect for other traditions, until, of course, they are forced upon me as “absolute truth”.  It is then that I begin to lace up the boxing gloves. It does not help that often the presentation of this “absolute truth” is usually done in a particular manner.  The volume and certainty of the presentation is often in a direct inverse correlation to a lack of knowledge, as well as being personally offensive in the remarks that are made.  

Pre-marital counseling 101 always includes a segment about “fighting fair”.  It goes along this line: “Yes, as a couple you will have arguments and disagreements.  What’s important is that you ‘fight fair’… that is, you don’t become offensive or abusive; you don’t bring up your partner’s past indiscretions; you don’t mock your husband or wife.  Don’t go to bed angry and start it up again the next day.  Words mean something and once they are said, and you cannot take them back.”  I still think that this is good advice.  It is also good advice as we engage others who are our brothers and sisters, whether in person (most of us are better with this) or online where a certain distance or even anonymity tempts us to more extreme behavior.

Interestingly, the word translated “fight” is only used ten times in the New Testament and in only three instances is it used in any positive way with regard to the life of a believer – 1Cor. 9:26 “I don’t fight like a boxer beating the air…”; 1Tim. 6:12 “fight the good fight of faith…” and 2Tim. 4:7 “I have fought the good fight…”  Yet all of these references have nothing that indicates that we are to engage in conflict with other believers.  They only speak of the struggle each of us faces in our own lives and our own spiritual growth.  I think that there is a reason for this.

Fundamentally, we are called to build up, not to tear down.

Currently, churches in America and western Europe are in a time of crisis. This affects all of us, whether we wish to admit it or not. Numbers of attendees have plummeted.  Numerous seminaries have closed their doors and those that remain are scaling back.  Mega-churches have plateaued. Congregations and clergy are aging.  Funerals are outnumbering baptisms. All of this does not even touch on the issues of abuse or financial irregularities. If there is a model for this time, it is Nehemiah standing before the ruins of Jerusalem, considering the impossible task of rebuilding the walls.  Then, as now, no one person is equal to the task.  It requires all of us to lend a hand.

Yet, what does that mean?  Firstly, stop the fighting.  It is not a healthy sport. It leaves everyone battered and bruised. Secondly, become a part of a physical, actual, real community of faith.  Once there, volunteer to play your part in that community of faith. It will not be perfect.  Many people will be annoying.  You will have to sacrifice much in terms of your own ego and set ideas.  If you are my age, realize that they want your wisdom, not your certainties about how things should function. Yet, once there, you will be part of building (or, perhaps, rebuilding) that community of faith.

The isolated and lonely view of ‘The Boxer’ set out by Paul Simon in his song appears romantic and somewhat appealing.  In the end, however, let’s see it for what it is – the boxer bears all of his wounds from his fighting, but he lacks the place to call home.  If you don’t have a home, find one or, if necessary, build one not just for yourself but for others.

Duane W.H. Arnold, PhD

The Project