Dear reader, yesterday I was invited for a round of golf in the couples’ group that my friends have every Friday afternoon. Now, I know what you’re thinking: “But Padre, you are single!” Quite right. My appearance in a couples’ group may seem a little odd, but I usually get called in as the emergency substitute when someone’s partner is unavailable — sort of the “designated hitter” of the golf course. Each week our friend Ron invents a little side game to make the round interesting for golfers of all levels. This week he unveiled what he called “Poor Man’s Golf.” In this curious version, we were only allowed to use a putter, a nine iron, and a seven iron. The rest of our expensive collection of clubs had to remain at home, mocking us silently from their bags. It meant, of course, that the entire round was basically a study in one thing: the short game.
Now, my short game is… well, a theological exercise in humility. I can manage a respectable drive, and most days I can keep up in the fairway. But when I’m forced to rely on those little touch shots around the green, I discover that physics has a wicked sense of humour. My chip either dribbles a polite three feet, as if apologizing for disturbing the turf, or else rockets across the green like it has somewhere better to be. My companions, kind souls, always say, “Take your time.” But I was taking my time — that was the problem!
And yet, as I stood there watching the ball do everything but what I intended, I found myself learning again about patience. The Gospel, too, is full of calls to patience — with ourselves, with others, and with God. Growth, like a good chip shot, rarely comes on the first attempt. It comes slowly, with practice, with perseverance, and with a fair bit of laughter at ourselves along the way.
Golf, in its own mischievous way, also teaches humility. Just when you’re feeling a bit smug after a long straight drive, the game offers a reminder: a shank into the rough or a sand trap you didn’t even see coming. Ministry is like that too — we’re given moments of success, but we’re also constantly reminded that we are human, not divine. The Gospel tells us our worth doesn’t come from flawless performance but from being loved by God, who knows our weaknesses and still delights in us.
And then comes grace — golf’s greatest sermon illustration. The “mulligan.” That blessed second chance. Undeserved, unearned, yet generously given. It’s the Gospel in miniature. Life with God is full of mulligans: second chances, fresh starts, and the freedom to try again without fear.
So yes, “Poor Man’s Golf” revealed what I already knew: my short game needs a lot of work. But it also reminded me of the deeper truths of faith: that patience is a virtue to be practised, humility is a gift to be received, and grace is the greatest mulligan of all. And if, on occasion, my seven iron behaves like a broom handle and the ball like a wayward comet — well, perhaps the Kingdom of God is closer than I thought.
Fore!
Prayer for Patience and Humility on the Course of Life
Loving God,
you teach us patience in every swing,
and humility in every missed shot.
Help us to see the fairways and roughs of life
as places where your grace meets us.
Keep us steady when our aim is poor,
and grateful when the ball rolls true.
May our whole game — short or long —
be played in the light of your Kingdom.
Through Jesus Christ, our guide and companion.
Amen.