“Well, that’s going to leave a mark…” I muttered disgustedly, after yanking my very first shot into the weeds at Golf League the other day.
Deep it went into the furze. Irretrievably deep. And sure enough, I paid the price: a double-bogey 6 on the opening hole. But having recently written about the profit to be found in minimizing mistakes on the links, perhaps something deep-down in my amygdala kicked in. For once, “swing panic” did NOT ensue. In fact, I parred the very next hole…along with a few others during the round…and didn’t do worse than “bogey” the rest of the day.
Some (many?) golfers would consider this a mediocre performance – but I’ll take a “42” any day. Once my handicap was applied, it netted out to a “27,” best in the League. A delightful consolation for one who loves the game, but nevertheless sports a handicap that is humblingly high.
Today’s Responsorial Psalm speaks of such graces unfolding in our lives, I notice. Perhaps the Psalmist didn’t exactly have golf in mind, but the principle of God’s constant and reassuring presence is the same, I’d say:
Gracious is the LORD and just;
yes, our God is merciful.
The LORD keeps the little ones;
I was brought low, and [God] saved me.
As I noted last week, golf from time to time provides an excellent entry point for contemplating such spiritual lessons. It’s one of the reasons I continue to play, despite my obvious-and-frequent-futility out on the course. I am amazed and awed to discover how often the Holy One’s presence is revealed there—showing up subtly but unmistakably in nature’s beauty…in our camaraderie…in both fleeting success and abject failure.
It’s all there, and more: God’s grace saturates our play, if only we have eyes to see. Of course, today’s Gospel passage reminds us that grace comes with an unexpected edge, a dark side, especially if we’re inclined to desire only sweetness and light to emanate from the Holy One.
God is with us always, in the person of Jesus.
God reveals salvation to us in Christ.
But God also reveals a confounding mystery in Jesus: how it’s necessary for him to “go low;” indeed, that Jesus must “suffer greatly and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and rise after three days.”
Like St. Peter, we’re not always sure we want to know that side of the salvation story. But it all belongs—floozled shots and fantastic putts alike. It’s all wrapped up and ultimately transformed in the blood of the One who came to save us. Amen…alleluia!
Let us pause now…to recall that we are in the presence of the Holy & Merciful One.
IHS
With Us Still 