Boxing Day

Boxing Day

Deborah Beach Giordano
© January 4, 2010

When I was a little girl
I always wondered
about Boxing Day.

I thought it was
when people like Mohammed Ali
(Cassius Clay, as he was then)
scheduled their bouts.

But it seemed strange
for anyone to fight
around the time
of the Baby Jesus’ birth.

Now that I’m older
(and more worldly-wise)
I understand
about Boxing Day.

Though I still
don’t understand
the fighting
around Jesus.

Some say He wasn’t born
in December.
Some say He wasn’t born
at all.

People always find something
to disagree over
and argue about
(about Him, in particular),

just as they can always find
an arena for their combat
and plenty of partisans
to shout from the sidelines.

They squabble
and fuss,
condemn, and threaten —

even going so far as
to pronounce anathemas
against each other.
(Always in the name of Jesus.)

These party loyalists
(of every kind)
insist that they alone
are in the right;

claiming higher wisdom,
clearer thinking,
better knowledge,
or infallibility.

The sides have been chosen,
the bell has sounded;
the anxious crowd urging
a fight to the finish.

No referee,
no time limit,
no rules,
no restraint.

The attack is punishing.
(The opponent,
cut and bruised and bleeding,
hasn’t struck a single blow.)

Confused and disappointed,
the crowd roars
in disbelief —
What’s going on?

Who is this guy?
Why won’t He fight?
Why does He keep
turning the other cheek?


It seems to me
(based on available evidence)
that as far as Jesus is concerned
every day is Boxing Day.

About inklingscommunity

I am a struggling Christian, committed pacifist, near-obsessive recycler, incurable animal lover, inveterate tree-hugger; a nature mystic, a socialized introvert, an advocate for the vulnerable, an opponent of exploiters.
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