With God on the Water

If it wasn’t for its river perch, Newell Boathouse might resemble a cathedral. From certain angles, you can envision the building’s red and gray slate exterior cradling a congregation; the softly curved architecture of its roof serving as a shelter for a choir.

But, as it is, the Charles River keeps the imagination from going further. One glance at that illustrious intersection of waves and angled wooden deck reveals the link between Cambridge’s famous water and Harvard’s historic tradition. The faithful attending services here, you are instantly reminded, are the rowers of the world’s most storied collegiate program. Their mass is practice; they are not parishioners of the divine.

And so you’d think, obviously, that Aaron Holzapfel would understand this. You’d think that as one of only two returning seniors from last year’s first heavyweight boat—and the new captain, no less, fresh from a second straight national championship—he’d have gotten it through his head. That he, if anyone, would stop discussing Jesus and rowing, like he was on his way to worship and not to toil on an erg.

But astonishingly, Aaron Holzapfel is undeterred by the looming presence of the river. Certainly not while rowing, and not in the boathouse that is his second home.

He walks into Newell confident that he will find God—whether it’s a cathedral, or not.

“My faith impacts everything that I do,” he says. “My relationship with Christ is what gives me purpose; it’s what I’m passionate about. It influences everything in that the reasons that I do things are dedicated to God’s glory and not my own.”

“Whether that actually happens is another question,” he adds, “but that’s the goal.”

And the effective leader of this year’s men’s heavyweight crew has experienced little schism thus far between his craft and his spirituality.

The Kensington, N.H. native started rowing competitively when he transferred into nearby Phillips Exeter Academy in his junior year of high school—as soon as he could legally drive himself from home to school everyday. His brother Neil ’03 had also rowed at Exeter, notably, and then also at Harvard as a senior captain under head coach Harry Parker.

And not so coincidentally, perhaps, the younger Holzapfel attributes his profound individual development in his Christian faith—which he describes as nondenominational—to that very same period of time when he took up crew.

“Growing up, my parents were devout, and they raised me in the Christian way,” he says. “But my faith didn’t really become my own until [that time,] later on in high school. I think it really came from seeing a need in my own life. It also came from seeing the evil I think we all commit.”

Holzapfel, you see, does not view religion as a passive act. Famously, when the English concentrator rowed at the 2003 CRASH-B’s, a colorful indoor rowing championship, he went under the moniker Kevin McHale, for the great Celtics big man, of the group “LFJA”—that is, Live for Jesus Always.

“I chose that,” he said at the time, “because Jesus is the only thing worth living, rowing and dying for.”

And impressively, when he talks about faith holding the key to the success he finds on the water, he also has the credibility to convince you.

The second-place finish at that 2003 edition of the CRASH-B’s and his top-10 finish last year are but the smallest of samples from his lengthy resume. From his time rowing with the first boat of the virtually undefeated heavyweights of the Class of 2004, he also boasts first-place triumphs at Eastern Sprints, the Harvard-Yale Regatta and England’s Henley Royal Regatta in addition to a national championship.

“Just because rowing is such a grueling sport, it can really take a toll on you not just physically but emotionally and spiritually,” he says. “I feel like I draw my strength from my relationship with God. If I didn’t have that relationship, I don’t think I would be able to do it and make it in the sport.”

But even if Holzapfel tends to deflect glory from himself, the reality that he is actually doing it at the highest level, in the world’s most prominent program—with an arguably imposing family precedent, as well—isn’t lost on anyone. He and fellow senior Malcolm Howard, Harvard’s master of protocol, only garner praise.

Parker, their near-legendary coach, is a particularly distinguished exalter.

“It’s early in the game yet, but [Holzapfel and Howard] are two very impressive oarsmen,” Parker says. “But they’re also two very impressive people. You can see that they earn a lot of respect from the other oarsmen and I think that’s going to have a very important impact on the squad.”

But now, with their notoriously successful former teammates lost to graduation, the burden falls primarily to Holzapfel to try to uphold the Crimson’s tradition of dominance.

His teammates, for one, aren’t too worried.

“We’ve got a great captain and he’s just spectacular in keeping us motivated,” senior William Ulrich says, frankly. “He’s reminding us that people aren’t perceiving us as threat this year and urging us to prove them wrong. Harry hasn’t had to say anything—Aaron’s just spectacular at that.”

But wait—isn’t Holzapfel afraid? Just a tad fearful of unjustly being held to a standard of absolute perfection?

In his mind, those may be the wrong types of questions to ask.

“In the sport of crew, people can get sucked into the monotony, the difficulty of the sport and really lose the enjoyment that is supposed to come from it,” he says. “But I think we’re focused on what we have to do now.”

Astonishingly, you see, Aaron Holzapfel is undeterred by the looming presence of the river.

Certainly not while rowing—and not in the boathouse that is his second home.