There’s a big fight going on tonight. Not being a fan of boxing, I haven’t ponied up the $90 for the fight–nor was I ever tempted to do so. I have other guilty pleasures (NFL football, for example).
As Sarah Pulliam Bailey points out, though, there is an interesting storyline behind this one. Manny Pacquiao, professing “born-again Christian” goes up against Floyd Mayweather, who is an alleged abuser. As she puts it,
The dramatic matchup is expected to draw millions of viewers. Ahead of the fight, Mayweather has drawn attention for his alleged abuse of women, while Pacquiao has drawn attention among some for his Christian faith.
Pulliam also reminds us of a 2014 Christianity Today article by Gordon Marino, a boxing trainer and philosopher (and Kierkegaard scholar, by the way). In the article, Marino explores the question of whether boxing is easily compatible with Christian faith. He recollects a conversation with Pacquiao, which I found particularly interesting:
Boxer Manny Pacquiao is a devout, born-again Christian. He has earned world titles in eight weight divisions and was anointed “Fighter of the Decade” by the Boxing Writers Association of America. Before one bout, I pressed Pacquiao about the apparent conflict between his concussive craft and his devotion to the God-man, who insisted his followers turn the other cheek. There was silence. Worried that I had stepped over the line, I said, “I’m sorry if I offended you with that question.”
The Pac Man said, “No, it is a good question. I think it is wrong that we try to hurt one another, but I also think that God will forgive us [him and his opponent] because it is our calling.”
I could have pushed: “But why would God give you a calling that was sinful?” Instead I backpedaled and left it at that—that is, at ambivalence.
Yet Pacquiao’s silence and comment spoke volumes. Though faith is fervent among modern-day gladiators (and championed by nationally known pastors like Mark Driscoll and Ryan Dobson), make no mistake about it: One would have to be a virtuoso of self-deception to imagine that our Lord Jesus would have been in a front-row seat at the klieg-lit den of voluntary human punishment.
Perhaps those of us who thrive on arena combat ought to do so, à la Pacquiao, with a sense of humility and a tinge of regret.
I appreciate Marino’s bold question to the born-again boxer. But I respect even more both the boxer’s honest–and Marino’s. Neither seems to think Jesus would approve of the “hurting game,” as Marino calls it. Both both are hopeful of God’s grace (as we all should be–for so much that we do, of which Jesus would likely not approve).
At the very least, though, this theological honesty ought to lead us to excise any attempt to use Jesus Christ to sanction a violent spectacle like boxing.
I’m pretty sure Jesus would love the NFL, though.
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