I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. — 2 Timothy 4:7.
When St. Paul penned those powerful words, I’m confident he wasn’t picturing a boxing ring, even though my mind often drifts to those Friday nights with my grandmother I spent watching “Friday Night at the Fights.” My admission to that late-night spectacle hinged on two prerequisites: enduring Lawrence Welk first and helping shuck what felt like a mountain of peas. But the true education began with the referee, bringing those two pugilists together with the earnest declaration: “I want a good clean fight. Now shake hands, and go to your corner.” It was an early, profound lesson that sports, much like life itself, were meant to be played by the rules. Winning or losing was secondary to the integrity of the game.
If I were to pinpoint the most seismic shift I’ve witnessed over my many years, the Internet and instant communication would certainly be contenders. Yet, right alongside them is the alarming erosion of adherence to rules and the diminishing respect for institutions. My grandmother and I would hear countless admonitions from the referee: “no biting, scratching, kicking, or low blows.” The low blow was the absolute cardinal sin, the ultimate transgression. It feels as though today, in the arenas of business, politics, and daily life, those very “low blows” have not only become part of the “fight” but are sometimes celebrated as strategic moves.
Imagine life as a complex board game, like chess. Each piece has its prescribed moves, its limitations, and its power. The beauty of the game, and the fairness of it, lies in everyone understanding and respecting those rules. If one player decides their pawn can suddenly move like a queen, or that they can simply remove an opponent’s piece when it suits them, the game isn’t just unfair; it ceases to be chess at all. It devolves into chaos.
And that’s exactly what we have now. Chaos.