THE MATCH OF A LIFETIME

Not a physical contest.
Not a cultural argument.
Not a political battle.

The Greek word for “wrestle” in Ephesians implies close combat, a hand-to-hand struggle.

This is not distant warfare. This is personal. Intimate. Relentless.

And like any real match, it has rounds.

When I wrestled in my teen years in Japan, we competed under Olympic Freestyle rules, which was three rounds of three minutes each. At that time in the United States, collegiate wrestling consisted of three two-minute rounds. The clock may have differed, but the principle was the same: We had to endure, adjust, and persevere through every round.

It may not sound long. But when you are locked in combat, three minutes can feel like 30.

Every round required conditioning.
Every round demanded focus.
Every round tested your will.

This is Divine Wrestling. And every believer must fight three critical spiritual rounds.

JAPAN: WHERE DISCIPLINE MET DESTINY

Japan is not simply a country I visited.

It is the land of my birth. The land of my Japanese mother. My father was an American military serviceman stationed in Japan at the time.

Though we moved to the U.S. when I was almost three years old, Japan and my heritage shaped me in ways I did not fully understand until later in life. Its culture of honor, discipline, and perseverance left a lasting imprint on my character.

During my 9th grade school year, my stepfather, also in the military, was stationed in Japan, so we moved to Japan from the San Diego area.

That is where I began training in wrestling under a man who profoundly influenced my life—Noriaki Kiguchi. He was a gold medalist in the Pan American games in Greco Roman wrestling. An elite wrestler and MMA coach, he was also known for being a forefather of “Shooto” full contact wrestling and a combination of martial arts. It was a precursor to some of what we see today in Ultimate Fighting and MMA.

Long before there was a Mr. Miyagi in The Karate Kid movie, Sensei Kiguchi was my “Mr. Miyagi.” Only he didn’t make me wax cars, or to “wax on, wax off.” He helped teach me to wrestle and the use of various techniques from martial arts.

He was disciplined. Direct. Uncompromising. Yet deeply caring. I always addressed him with proper respect: Kiguchi-san Sensei.

Titles mattered less than influence. He shaped character as much as skill.

And during matches, I would hear him shout:

It means endure.
Press through.
Persevere regardless of difficulty.

That word became a spiritual anchor in my life to this day.

Spirit vs. Flesh:

The greatest battlefield is within.

The Two Competitors:

The Works of the Flesh:

The flesh demands immediate gratification.
The Spirit builds eternal character.

Spiritual Conditioning:

Three three-minute rounds will expose poor conditioning quickly. If you did not train in private, you would collapse in public.

Hebrews 5:14 says maturity comes:

Prayer is repetition.
Obedience is repetition.
Forgiveness is repetition.

You train daily so when pressure comes, instinct takes over.

And when the flesh screams, the Spirit whispers:

ROUND TWO: THE MENTAL WRESTLING

Pulling Down Strongholds:

The Enemy’s Psychological Warfare:

In wrestling, some opponents try to intimidate before the whistle even blows. They posture. They glare. They flex.

But once you engage them, you discover something important. They are not as strong as they looked.

The Lesson Forged in Pain:

In 1974, during the Far East Wrestling Championships, I fractured my left elbow on the first day of competition. Sensei wrapped it. Iced it. Checked on me through the night.

“I’ve come too far to stop,” I said.

He then did something unexpected. He removed the bandage from my injured arm and wrapped my healthy arm instead.

“Everyone knows you were injured,” he said. “But they will not remember which arm.”

I went on to place second, missing gold by one point.

But I gained something greater. I learned my desire to win must be greater than my moment of challenge or pain.

That lesson returned powerfully in 2015 when I faced aggressive stage-four lymphoma cancer.

The wrestling mat had prepared me for a hospital room.

Champions are not those who never fall. They are those who refuse to stay down.

Or, as the late Dr. Edwin Louis Cole used to say, “Champions are not those who never fail, but those who never quit.“

Don’t Quit!

ROUND THREE: THE DIVINE WRESTLING

Identity is Forged in the Struggle:

This is not wrestling the flesh.

God empties us:

Wrestling with God is not rebellion. It is surrender through engagement.

Jacob said:

But he also left renamed.

From Jacob to Israel.

A limp with God is greater than full strength without Him.

THE CHAMPION’S CODE:

As I matured, I recognized that many of the lessons I learned through wrestling reflected the Samurai Bushidō Code, or the Way of the Warrior:

Rectitude.
Courage.
Benevolence.
Respect.
Honor.
Honesty.
Loyalty.

As Christians, we serve something greater than ourselves.

I have often said: Japan is known as the Land of the Rising Sun.

My prayer is that it will also be known as the Land of the Risen Son.

Honor, perseverance, discipline—these virtues are not in conflict with faith. They find fulfillment in Christ.

HONOR THAT CROSSES GENERATIONS

One of the values I admire deeply in Japanese culture is respect for elders.

Parents and grandparents are honored, not discarded.

Years later, when I cared for my widowed mother in my home, many people, especially from Asian cultures, recognized that act as honor.

It opened doors for conversations about faith without confrontation.

Honor speaks before words do.

THE FINAL BELL

In November 2021, a Japanese pastor gently told me that Sensei Kiguchi had passed away.

Over 50 years had passed since I first stepped onto the mat under his instruction.

Yet even today, I can still hear his voice:

When we wrestle with Him, He gives:

And in Christ:

We are more than conquerors.

Three rounds.

Be a Champion for Christ!

By Doug Stringer