The Boxer

Years ago, when our youngest was still very small, she came across some old photographs of my parents. In them was a handsome boxer dog.

“Who’s that?” she asked.

“That’s Mulligan, Grandma and Grandad’s old dog,” I told her.

“Why have I never seen him at Grandma and Grandad’s house?” she wondered.

“Well, he died before you were born.”

“Oh.” She pondered. “So when’s he going to come alive again?”

When I explained that, contrary to her hopeful expectation, Mulligan was going to stay dead, she was inconsolable, grieving with loud tears for a dog she’d never met. Once she’d calmed down a little, she explained the source of her confusion and frustrated hope.

“At playgroup,” she told me, “the aunties told us a story about a man who died, but then he came alive again.”

Finally, the penny dropped. I told her that one of the reasons that the story is told so much is that it was so unusual for the man to come alive again; that most people stay dead. This was a strange and wonderful thing that happened! That was why the playgroup aunties were still talking about it thousands of years later.

To bring home the reality of mortality to a three-year-old, even in the context of faith in the resurrection of the dead, without destroying her hope, her faith, her comfort, is both intellectually and heart-wrenchingly challenging.

I was also left to wonder what it was about the way in which her aunties told the stories of Holy Week and Easter that had so filled my daughter with a beautiful and wonderful hope, even if it was just out of whack enough to invite disappointment. She had heard the same story at home, and at church, but had, apparently, made no connection to the one she had heard at playgroup, in which the man who was dead came alive again. When the aunties told her the story, she heard that the death and resurrection of this man had destroyed death, so that no one, not even a boxer named Mulligan, would be left for dead by God.

Those women: they would, in other times, have been the ones at the foot of the cross. They would have been the ones who watched the body’s journey to the tomb. They would have been the ones running with tears of confusion and joy from the emptiness of the grave on Easter morning, telling their stories to all who would listen.

About Rosalind C Hughes

Rosalind C Hughes is a priest and author living near the shores of Lake Erie. After growing up in England and Wales, and living briefly in Singapore, she is now settled in Ohio. She serves an Episcopal church just outside Cleveland. Rosalind is the author of A Family Like Mine: Biblical Stories of Love, Loss, and Longing , and Whom Shall I Fear? Urgent Questions for Christians in an Age of Violence, both from Upper Room Books. She loves the lake, misses the ocean, and is finally coming to terms with snow.
This entry was posted in holy days, sermon preparation, story and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to The Boxer

  1. jon says:

    Really wonderful – looks like the beginnings of a sermon. Also, really well handled, I remember hearing a sermon where the priest talked about how hard he and his wife found it to teach 8 year olds to pray. He was disappointed that as a priest he hadn’t been prepared for such a task and he mused that perhaps we should get spiritual “belts” like the ones they use in martial arts as we progress along in our faith and can begin to pass it along to others. I’d say you earned a black belt there.

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