I am not good at golf. It is a wonderful and frustrating activity. The more I play, the more I realize that golf is a sport that you can never master - no matter how much you practice. But it is a game that offers moments when it’s possible to trick yourself into thinking you’re starting to figure things out, although you’re sure to do something (hit a shot into the woods, water or sand) and realize you have no idea what you’re doing just a few moments later. I’m convinced that I could play golf every day for the rest of my life and still be a terrible golfer. I’d still get frustrated and I’d still hit plenty of bad shots that make me want to yell bad words loudly. But I’d probably hit at least one “perfect shot” each round that would make it all worth it and keep me coming back to play again, not quite ready to give up the idea that I’d figure it out and finally be good.

Now that the Minnesota weather is finally starting to cooperate and it’s safe to assume winter is actually over (probably), there are a lot of people in this area of the country who are going downstairs to get their golf clubs out of the basement, practicing their swing in the back yard and making plans to fill their summer with days of chasing a little white ball around the woods. If you think about it, the whole idea of golf is a rather bizarre and backwards thing. Many people spend a lot of time and money on all the things involved in the game of golf (equipment, accessories, green fees, vacation time). At many golf courses you actually have to plan ahead and reserve a time to play. Coincidentally, the courses where “tee times” are required are also more expensive. Now, assuming I’m not the only person who finds golf to be a rather frustrating experience, doesn’t it seem strange that so many people are getting excited about days filled with frustration. And the whole making a tee time thing…what does it say about golfers that we take the time to actually schedule what time we will start getting pissed at ourselves?

Shouldn’t those phone calls actually sound something like this…

Golf Course person: Hello, thanks for calling the golf course.

Golfer: Hi, I’d like to make a tee time for this Friday.

GC Person: Okay, what time would you like your attitude to start getting negative?

Golfer: I was hoping to start getting mad at myself around 9:00am.

GC Person: We have an opening at 9:13am, would you be willing to stay somewhat positive and optimistic for about 13 minutes later into the day?

Golfer: I suppose that would work.

GC Person: How many people will be getting angry and frustrated with you?

Golfer: There will be four of us.

GC Person: And would you like to get some exercise while getting disappointed?

Golfer: Excuse me?

GC Person: Would you like to walk or can we charge you a bunch of extra money to drive around in a glorified go-kart while complaining about how you’re playing?

Golfer: We’ll take two carts please.

GC Person: Great. We have you down for four people at 9:13 am this Friday. It will cost you each at least $50 of your hard earned money. See you then.

Golfer: Looking forward to it.

Like I said, I’m not a good golfer. But for some reason I keep playing, and every spring I get excited about getting back out on the course. If the old adage goes “everything I needed to know about life I learned from the game of golf” is true - and in some ways, I think it is - then every time I waste time and money playing golf I learn something…about life, about the world, and about myself.

I don’t spend a lot of money on golf. I play most of my golf each summer at my cabin where there is a decent 9-hole course half a mile down the road and it only costs around $10. My dad and I (and sometimes my brother-in-law) begin many of our days on the golf course and then return to the cabin to drink coffee and eat some breakfast (including bacon if we’re lucky!) before spending the rest of the day living the good life of being at the cabin.
About once a summer I get the chance to be at my cabin all by myself, and although it’s a place I usually think of spending time with family and friends, it’s always nice to get away and spend some time there on my own. Although my dad is a great golf partner - read: he’s not way better than me, although I’ve still never beat him - it’s sometimes fun to play alone without having to worry about anyone else seeing how bad I am. The problem with this of course, is what happens if I hit an amazing shot and no one is there to witness it although this rarely happens). What if I got a hole-in-one and no one saw it happen, would anyone believe me? (If you’ve seen me golf, please don’t answer that question.)

I wrote the following thoughts after playing golf by myself one morning at my cabin a few years ago.

Location: A golf course in Northwest Wisconsin
Date: Tuesday, August 08, 2006
6th Hole: Par 4, 289 yards, dog-leg left

I hit a hybrid 3 iron/wood off the tee. It was the perfect shot. Higher than my normal drive, with a slight hook that followed the turn of the fairway…everything about it felt right. It was about 9:30 in the morning, so the sun was still at a sharp angle facing down at me, forcing me to squint while watching the ball sail through the air…it was glorious! (Read that last line like Will Ferrel would say it, “it was glooorrriious!”) I gently put my club back and picked up my bag and started walking through the wet grass to find where my golf ball’s journey had ended.

Quick aside: There are two kinds of walks a golfer can have on the golf course, and many different variations of each. The first is the “I just hit a great shot and I want everyone to notice” walk (confidence, pride, puffing out chest and walking slowly to enjoy the feeling) and the second is the “that shot sucked and I want to get to my ball right now so I can hit it again before people see where I ended up” walk (frustrated, head down, muttering words you wouldn’t say around your grandma).

Since I was golfing by myself this morning, I enjoyed the walk on my own. Soaking in the wonderful feeling of every step, knowing that I had just hit a great shot. I noticed a grounds crew worker sprinkling fertilizer on the green ahead. “I bet he’s impressed,” I thought to myself. Assuming he had seen my ball drop onto the middle of the fairway behind him.

Because of the bright sun and wet dew, every clump of grass and leaf had a shine to it that could have been mistaken for a golf ball from a distance, and as I got closer to where I thought my ball had landed, I didn’t see a golf ball anywhere. Since I hadn’t actually seen where my ball ended up because of the bright sun, I assumed it had either rolled just off the fairway or better yet, followed its hooking path and continued down the middle of the fairway toward the hole.

I checked both. There was no golf ball. Although I was a bit confused, I wasn’t worried. It had to be around somewhere, since after all, I had hit that ball perfectly.

Another aside: Just like there are two ways for a golfer to walk after hitting a shot, there are also two ways for a golfer to look for a missing ball. You can look for a ball “where you think it is” or “where you hope it is.” Occasionally where you think it is, is actually worse than where it actually is; sometimes where you think it is, is the same place where you hope it is; and oftentimes where you think and hope it is, is where it will never be in a million years - no matter how much you practice. On this morning, where I thought it was, was in the middle of the fairway, 100 yards from the hole…but there was no golf ball where I hoped there would be, or anywhere else nearby for that matter.

I looked everywhere possible for that ball, but found nothing. I couldn’t believe it. How could I hit a ball perfectly and then not find it? My pride crept into my thoughts as I continued looking. “It must be up here,” I thought. “I hit the ball perfect, it has to be somewhere around here…and it has to be somewhere good!”
I never did find that golf ball. Where it ended up is a mystery I guess. So what does any of this have to do with life as a Christian? After all, I titled this piece “the double-bogey Christian.”

As Christians (and/or as golfers), we often think we’re doing better than we really are. We think we’re doing things perfectly or are at least on our way toward becoming better, and even when we get lost or confused, we think we’ll find what we’re looking for and figure it all out. We assume people are impressed by us and that we have reason to walk around with a lot of pride, like we’re pretty special. We don’t want to admit that we really don’t know what we’re doing and we’re not nearly as good as we think.

Golf is intended to be fun and relaxing, so I’ve learned that it’s best for me to lower my expectations so I don’t end up frustrated and mad. It’s common for most people shoot for par, but I think I am more realistic than most people. I realize that if I tee off on every hole with the goal/expectation of getting par, I will at best live up to my expectations, and at worst fall terribly short and be disappointed. I am a double-bogy golfer, so that’s my goal.

Sure, I’ll get an occasional bogey, par or a very rare birdie, but when the round is done my overall score will average out to a bunch of double-bogeys.

So too goes my life as a Christian. Everyday I wake up fully intending to do good and be good (call it living “par”), yet I stumble in sin and end up with a bunch of double-bogeys.

I’ve golfed enough to know that a par for me is like an eagle for Tiger Woods, but a double-bogey for me is like Tiger getting a par. It’s more realistic to step up to the tees thinking I’m going to get a bogey or double-bogey than tricking myself into expecting I’m going to get a par or birdie.

As Christians, we often fool ourselves into thinking we can live life under par, the equivalent of being perfect, as if we have everything figured out and we’ve done something to be proud of…so we walk feeling pretty proud of ourselves. Yet, in reality, if there was a scorecard for our life, it would have a lot of numbers with squares rather than circles (note: when scoring in golf, you draw a square around a score over par and a circle around scores under par).

I am a double-bogey Christian, and if you are honest with yourself, so are you…and that’s okay. God’s grace is sufficient for me, you and everyone else doing their best to make it through 18-holes of life.

Visit Andy's blog at anewdoxology.com for more insightful writing.

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