Sons of the Most Holy Redeemer

Sirs, what must I do to be saved?” (Acts 16:30, ESV)

In September, Sue and I ferried off for three days to the remote Orkney Islands north of Scotland. We saw all the truly breathtaking sights one should see on a short trip, but by far the most memorable moment was 10 minutes that only God himself could orchestrate.

We wandered one day after lunch to the pier in Kirkwall where ferries depart. We saw no signs of life except two young men dressed in black monk’s garb, having a meager lunch of hummus and crackers.

Conversation was easy when I showed interest in their destination. “We are on the way to Papa Stronsay, an island which our Order bought a few years ago,” one said. “We live there at the Golgotha Monastery. What brings you here?”

“Oh, we’re just tourists, although I am researching for a novel about a golf course on a mythical island in the Orkneys.” They showed me a map of their small island, which is only 180 acres. “Perfect for my golf course,” I offered, which seemed to worry them.

Turns out we were speaking to Father Martin Mary, from Oxford, England, and Brother Edmund Maria, from Kansas City, USA. I wondered to myself if the madness of golf had perhaps driven “Marty and Eddie” to this holy secluded life where double bogeys are long gone.

“So, what is the name of your Order?” Father Martin quickly answered, “Sons of the Most Holy Redeemer.” Without even thinking, I responded, “Me too. I am a son of the Most Holy Redeemer.”

Father Martin seemed puzzled. “Are you Catholic?”

“No, but I did meet Mother Teresa twice on mission trips to India.” He seemed impressed and the door opened for me to share my 1995 story of Mother Teresa’s gospel. Just outside her bedroom in Calcutta, she had told me, “I’m not good.” She then turned her eyes to heaven and softly said, “Jesus.” It was her short version of the gospel. Both padres smiled. Even saints need Jesus.

The conversation with the monks led me to later google the Order. I found out that their day starts with prayer at 3:15 a.m. I also discovered a mission statement that grabbed me:

Remember O Christian soul that time passes quickly and you too must soon die, be judged and enter into your eternity of heaven or hell. You have only one soul to save; that is your chief, nay your only work. For what does it profit you if, by your work, you gain the whole world which must soon end, and lose your immortal soul in an eternity of sufferings that will never end? What exchange can you give for your soul? There is none. At all cost then, save your soul.

I am still pondering the magnitude and directness of this message. It surely must underlie all human thought. It explains religion of all kinds, both true and false. It is a dormant voice in any human who has ever pondered the universe and God and eternity.

I confess, I am not sure how living in a monastery in the Orkneys accomplishes that goal, but I must say, their statement has refocused me on what matters most.

As John Wesley once famously said after his failures in Georgia as a missionary, “I went to America to convert Indians, but oh, who shall convert me?”

So, I have a feeling that Father Martin and Brother Edmund have added Sue and me to their long list of people to pray for at 3:15 a.m., and that is perfectly fine with me.

But I also hear the voice of Mother Teresa when she gave the answer to John Wesley’s question in one simple word, “Jesus.” He alone can save my soul.

Lost Ball in High Weeds

“Rejoice with me because I have found my lost sheep.” (Luke 15:6-7)

One of golf’s great joys is finding a nice golf ball on the course. The flip side of that joy is the extraordinary pain of losing a brand new Pro V1.

It is so unbearable that I never play golf with a new ball. Opening a box of new balls and sailing the perfect white ProV1 off the first tee into the weeds or worse is unthinkable for me. I play only with balls given to me by college players who played nine holes or so with the nugget. Or good balls I have found.

Last Friday, I started with a beautifully used Titleist 4 with a UK logo. Sure enough, a bad swing on the fourth hole sent the ball straight into the jungle guarding the right side. I bid farewell to my lost friend, made a six and moved on. Just another lost ball in the high weeds.

Four days later I was jogging on the same course in the early morning. I decided to wander into the abyss on the fourth hole. Sure enough, my heart leaped with joy when I saw a nice white ball. I soon realized that not only was this a Titleist, it was my Titleist 4 Pro V1.

Oh, the joy! Luke 15 came alive. The story of the lost sheep (Luke 15:3-7), the lost coin (Luke vv. 8-10), and the lost son (Luke 15:11-32) came tumbling through my mind. Rejoice! The prodigal Pro V1 that was lost was now found! And lucky for him, he was not found by some 24-handicapper who would have lost him again in a pond. He was found by his “best friend”—me. I promised him I would never hit him to the right again! I wanted to “kill the fattened calf” and celebrate since the prodigal son was home.

As I returned to my jog, I remembered that the phrase “lost ball in the high weeds” has entered the American jargon. It well describes someone who has lost their way, especially when it comes to spiritual matters.

So my question for today is this. Who in your world is a “lost ball in the high weeds”? Let me first say I hope it’s not you. Is this possible that someone could read this devotional daily but be lost? You have been a success, love golf, and love family, but somehow you’re lost? Success can actually be a barrier to finding eternal life.

Jesus said it squarely, “And what do you benefit if you gain the whole world but are yourself lost...?” (Luke 9:25, NLT).

If you indeed feel like a “lost ball in the high weeds,” do us both a favor and email me. I’d be happy to talk in person.

But even if you are not lost yourself, you surely have friends at your golf club in that category.

So here is a final picture. Jesus is in the weeds with a ball retriever around a mossy bank full of weeds. He is looking for lost balls. He knows they are not really lost. He believes they will be found. The lost coin. The lost sheep. The prodigal son. He has left the 99 other balls safely in the bag. He has gone to seek the one lost ball.

This ball has a name. Who is your “most wanted” lost ball? You probably have already thought of someone. Write his or her name on a card to keep in your wallet. Play golf with them. Rake their bunkers. Give ’em putts. Answer their questions. Pray for them. Be ready for the phone call when they need you the most. And last, be ready to rejoice with them.

“We must celebrate with a feast, for this son of mine was dead and has now returned to life. He was lost, but now he is found” (Luke 15:24).

A Good Question

...since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses...let us run the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus... (Hebrews 12:1-2, RSV)

Do friends or family who have died have any influence on this earth? Can people in heaven effect outcomes in this life? Is there indeed a “cloud of witnesses” who surround us, sort of like angels, helping us in certain times?

There are biblical stories of people appearing from the other side. Moses and Elijah appeared on the Mount of Transfiguration. Samuel returned from the dead in a bizarre story found in 1 Samuel 28. But I am left mostly confused on the question, and I have never heard a satisfactory sermon on the subject.

In 1992, several good things happened to me after my father died. Curious about the connections between heaven and earth, I asked a respected theologian (who had preached his funeral) whether it was possible that my father had anything to do with my good fortune. I expected him to tell me I was silly to think such ridiculous thoughts. Instead, he shocked me with, “I’m not sure why you’d stop being useful just because you’re in heaven.”

Those words have resounded in me as I continue to remember University of Kentucky golfer Cullan Brown, who died way too young on August 4. Many close friends have experienced extraordinary blessings since his death.

For example, Max Mehles was a senior and mentor for Cullan on the Kentucky golf team. On the day of Cullan’s death, Max’s girlfriend, Sophia Popov, received a sponsor’s exemption to play an LPGA event in Ohio. Carrying her own bag with no caddie, ranked 304th in the world, and wearing a blue ribbon in memory of Cullan, she finished tied for ninth, which qualified her for the Women’s British Open. Perhaps you know the rest of the story. Still wearing the blue ribbon for Cullan, Sophia won the Open at Royal Troon on August 23, with Max on the bag. Did Cullan help somehow? I presume not, but honestly, I don’t know.

Then just two weeks ago, Cullan’s roommate Alex Goff carried his friend’s bag in the televised Blessings Collegiate in Arkansas. And sure enough, Alex won his first college tournament. He had never come close to winning a college event. He was ranked near 750th in the amateur golf rankings. Announcers on TV kept saying things like, “Cullan is surely looking down on Alex from above.” Statements like that make me a little nervous, knowing that Golf Channel announcers are not very good theologians. But when it comes to this question, neither am I.

The story ends, for now, with one last question from another former UK teammate. Lukas Euler called me the day after Alex won, happy to report that he just shot a 64 to Monday qualify for his first Korn Ferry tour event. We discussed Cullan and Sophia and Alex. So now Lukas, in his direct German style, asked a question I may never forget: “Do you think it’s possible that Cullan asked God to give his unused talent to his friends?”

I had no good answer for him. I don’t know.

But I do know this. Death and life are Real. These stories of “blessings” are true. Heaven is a real place with real people. And Cullan Brown is now one of the great cloud of witnesses. He is alive! Instead of the Hall of Fame, he has entered the Hall of Faith, found in Hebrews 11. Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, and Moses—and now Cullan!

In the fall of 2018, 18-year-old freshman Cullan wrote a paper for a leadership class. He was writing about a certain leader, but his words are chillingly now his own. Cullan said, “He has a clear view of what he wants to leave behind, which is the love and story of Jesus Christ.” Wow! Cullan has left behind the love and story of Jesus Christ. And a lot of friends.

Walking the Course

“They will walk with me in white, for they are worthy.” (Revelation 3:4, ESV)

The starter and a rainbow met Alexander McDonald and me on the first tee at 7:16 a.m. at Royal Dornoch. It was 55 degrees F, perfect for an early morning walk. The sun was coming up out of the North Sea on our right, creating shadows on the first green that extended across the whole putting surface. We were in no hurry. We just walked. Except for one birdie, we did not keep score. We were back in the clubhouse at 9:55. The walk was better than the golf shots.

Some would argue that there should be no golf without the walk. Scottish author Andrew Greig says in his book Preferred Lies, which I recommend, “Golf is a walking game. The walk between shots is not an interlude, non-golf. If it were, most of a round of golf would be non-golf and a great waste of time.” Like all Scots, he thinks buggies (powered carts) are a major problem.

For golfers, “the journey” is perhaps the best metaphor for the Christian experience. We hear a voice that says “Come, follow me.” And off we go.

Great literature has followed this idea that life is a journey: The Odyssey (Homer), The Wizard of Oz (Baum), The Lord of the Rings trilogy (Tolkien), Gulliver’s Travels (Swift), Pilgrim’s Progress (Bunyan).

The idea of walking with God is all over the Bible. God himself walked in the garden in the cool of the day (Genesis 3:8). Enoch, Noah, and Abraham walked with God (Genesis 5:22−24; 6:9; 17:1). Psalm 1 warns not to walk in the counsel of the wicked. Isaiah heard a voice that said, “This is the way, walk in it” (Isaiah 30:21). Micah told us to walk humbly with God (Micah 6:8).

Jesus showed up on a walk to Emmaus (Luke 24). And when Philip asked Jesus, “How can we know the way?” Jesus made it plain: “I am the way” (John 14:5-6).

Paul exhorted believers to walk in love, walk in the Spirit, walk in the light, walk worthy, walk carefully (Romans 13:13; 14:15; Galatians 5:16; Ephesians 4:1, 17; 5:2, 15; Colossians 1:10; 2:6).

Modern versions of the Bible have often eliminated the walking metaphor. The scholars who translate the Bible have tried to help us by turning walk into live. I have no right to criticize Biblical scholars since I can barely speak English, but these translators probably ride buggies. For me, I still like the idea of walking with God. Walking with God is a lot less pressure than living for God.

Playing with a golf cart, as we Americans do, may be a good picture of how many of us live—hurrying from one church or social event to the next, thinking the only thing that matters is “the shot.” We have missed the quiet and peaceful walk with Jesus. He listens to us. We walk and talk. On my smartest days, I just listen to him.

And I must say, it is also good to walk with another human being who knows you well enough to speak truth. Most people need a confessor, a teacher, a confidante, a mentor, a fellow pilgrim. For many it is your spouse.

Naturally, we hope to stay on the right path on this journey. But wandering off the path is always part of the story. Dante captures it in the opening lines of The Divine Comedy: “Midway along the journey … I woke to find myself in a dark wood, for I had wandered off the straight path…” (Dante may have been an 18-handicap  slicer).

Indeed, note that Jesus never said, “I am the Fairway.” If you follow him, there will be some rough, some bunkers, and worse. Even a cross. Walking with God will not be easy. But it is truly the only way to live.

THIS WORLD ISN'T FAIR

“Everything he does is just and fair.” (Deuteronomy 32:4, NLT)

Wednesday, August 5, 2020. 6 a.m. We awoke to an unusually glorious view over the Links of Brora. The sun was shining. The flags were limp. The North Sea was calm. The birds were chirping. The sea otters were at play. Another day in Scotland’s Paradise.

As my first cup of coffee was brewing, I checked my emails for the Links Players’ devotional. Instead, a Jeff Hopper email simply said, “Sorry to hear that Cullan passed.”

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Cullan Brown

In the snap of a finger, Paradise was gone.

Cullan Brown, age 20, had died. Osteosarcoma, a rare bone cancer, had taken the life of a rising star on the Kentucky golf team. All-SEC Freshman. Made the cut last summer in a PGA Tour event. Shot a 29 on the back nine the first time I ever watched him play. Not to mention a gourmet chef, expert outdoorsman, and 4.0 student. And best of all, he was a Jesus lover. Shortly after he arrived on UK’s campus, he wanted to meet with me for an hour. I soon realized his main purpose was to let me know he and I were on the same page when it came to Jesus.

But now he was gone.

The first news article I could find quoted a former Kentucky player, Chip McDaniel, who tweeted, “This world just isn’t fair.” Amen, Chip.

Thousands of people had prayed. Jack Nicklaus and Bernhard Langer had sent hopeful messages to Cullan. But none of that seemed to matter.

Chip’s tweet sent me to the Bible, looking for the word fair. I could not find the word as we define it 2020. In the King James Version (1611), the NASB (1902) or the RSV (1952), the word fair only meant the color of your skin, or the beauty of a young lady, or maybe the weather.

Only modern Bible versions use the word fair. Such as: “Everything he does is just and fair.” (Deuteronomy 32:4, NLT). Or: “If God were not entirely fair, how would he be qualified to judge the world?” (Romans 3:6, NLT).

The older translations simply say God is Just. God is Righteous. God is Upright. God is Awesome. I suspect that modern translators may have fallen prey to the presumption that God needs to be “fair,” as we understand it.

This Awesome God knew his purpose for Cullan Brown. It was not the PGA Tour.

Instead, the plan of this Righteous God was to plant Cullan, a small mustard seed from Eddyville, Kentucky (population 2,554), in the hearts of thousands.

“The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed.... the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.” (Matthew 13:31, NRSV)

When Cullan was told he had cancer, he never complained that this world isn’t fair, even though it isn’t. That’s because he knew that God is Just, Righteous, Upright, Awesome!

I imagine the scene on August 4, 2020. Jesus embraced Cullan in his new body and said, “I love you so much.” Cullan nodded approval and smiled as Jesus continued, “Your journey on earth seemed short, but my purpose was for you to lay down your life to save others. I just knew you’d be OK with that.” Cullan smiled again and nodded, “Of course, of course.”

I can actually hear Cullan then responding in his unique Kentucky twang, “Jesus, thank you so much. Now though, please just make sure everybody who knows my story knows that you love them, and if they trust in your love, the plan always works out.” Now Jesus smiled. “Of course.”

Perhaps this conversation even happened walking down a fairway. Since Jesus is too smart to play golf, he would be Cullan’s caddie. Jesus loves to caddie for his children.

So, the world is not fair. But God is Just, Right, Upright and Awesome. RIP Cullan.

THE ETERNAL MULLIGAN: The Gospel for Golfers

The Apostle Paul was a golfer. We know this with absolute certainty because he told his young caddie Timothy, “I have finished the course.” (II Timothy 4:11)

But even more obvious, listen to his letter to the Country Club of Rome:

“I do not understand what I do... For what I want to do, I do not do, but what I hate I do. I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. No, the evil I do not want to do, this I keep on doing.” (Romans 7)

Apparently, Paul had a bad slice or hook. Maybe even the yips or shanks. For sure, he was no better than a 24 handicapper.

As for me, being a golfer turned out to be one of life’s great blessings. The game itself helped me to be a better lawyer, a better senator, a better judge, a better friend and even a better husband. Indeed, golf even helped me find eternal life and love. I know that sounds crazy, but please consider the following nine lessons from the game of golf that may change the trajectory of your life.

Read about the 9 lessons

SLUMDOG GOLFER: A Day at Kodaikanal Golf Club

Most days on the golf course are eventually forgotten (thanks be to God), but not a day at Kodaikanal. The course was built originally in 1898. They have pictures from the 1920’s on the wall in the clubhouse and you can feel the ghosts of British colonialism everywhere.

A family of monkeys on the first tee tells you part of this story. A fence around the first green to keep off the wild boars says more. The scorecard told me that we get free drops from “fresh excreta”. This was supposed to make me feel better but did not. Whose “fresh excreta” was not clear to me.

The only way to really describe it is to take you through my day at Kodai, short for Kodaikanal, a resort city in the mountains. I use the word ‘resort’ with reservation.

Download Slumdog Golfer (PDF)

NO MIRACLES

“John didn’t perform miraculous signs,” they remarked to one another, “but everything he said about this man has come true.” (John 10:41, NLT)

Have you ever seen a miraculous golf shot?

Think about some of the Tiger shots. The chip in on the sixteenth hole at the 2005 Masters. If you don’t remember it, Chris DiMarco does. Or Tiger’s famous 6-iron from the fairway bunker on the eighteenth at the 2000 Canadian Open. Ted Scott was Grant Waite’s caddie that day, playing in the same group, and told me the story with awe. Just like he also tells the story of Bubba Watson’s miraculous hooking sand wedge from the woods of Augusta in 2012.

Personally, there are no real miracle shots, unless you count a skanky nine iron, hit low on the face downwind last summer in Scotland, playing with Jeff Hopper. The ball bounced short of the green, kicked dead left and ended up in the hole! Or even better, Jeff’s more legitimate ace three days later on the same Brora course, all with a rainbow to confirm the miracle.

Truthfully, we use the word “miracle” way too loosely around the golf course. In the Bible, the word miracle means the Red Sea opening for Moses, blind Bartimaeus finding his sight, Lazarus raised from the dead, or Jesus walking on the water. Indeed, many people followed Jesus because of his “miraculous signs” (John 6:14). Luke’s account tells us that “God gave Paul the power to perform unusual miracles” (Acts 19:11). So, I am not a doubter in miracles.

But for me personally, life has been woefully short on Bible-quality miracles. It has frankly bothered me that my hands and my prayers have produced “no miraculous signs.” I have tried. I have prayed for healing and miracles for dozens of people, primarily on trips to India. But I have no provable firsthand miracles to report.

If I was a TV preacher in a white suit on a stage, I’d be broke and out of business.

But last week, I found John 10:41. I noticed for the first time that the amazing story of John the Baptist includes no miraculous healings or events. Indeed, as the Scripture plainly says, “John didn’t perform miraculous signs.” The man Jesus said was the greatest man ever (see Matthew 11:11) did no miracles.

For some reason, that gave me hope.
So if this great man John performed no miracles, what did he do?

He pointed people to Jesus. “The next day John saw Jesus coming toward him and said, ‘Look! The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! He is the one I was talking about’” (John 1:29).

And two years later, the people confirmed that “everything [John] said about [Jesus] came true.” John told the truth about “the Truth.” And what was the result? “Many who were there believed in Jesus” (John 10:42).

What a great testimony this could be someday at your funeral! What if hundreds, or at least family and friends, could all agree that “Grandpa never did any great miracles, but everything he told us about Jesus turned out to be true—we believe because of him”?

Pointing the world to Jesus. That was John’s purpose. And that is a model we can all follow in the workplace, on the golf course, and everywhere we go.

THE DANGEROUS COUCH

“In the spring of the year, the time when kings go forth to battle….” 2 Samuel 11:1a (RSV)

Under the PGA’s new schedule, springtime is when the kings of the golf world ‘go forth to battle’, hoping to win Majors. Except this year, when they were on the couch.

Springtime is supposed to be a gourmet meal of Majors. The Player’s Championship in March is just an appetizer, followed by an exciting ‘green jacket salad’ at Augusta in April. Then the month of May treats us to a scrumptious meaty main course at the PGA Championship, and finally, we finish springtime with a sweet and delicious U.S. Open dessert.

June 21 ends all the springtime fun and the sweltering dog days of summer begin, interrupted only by the umbrellas and sweater weather of the Open Championship somewhere over the ocean near the arctic circle.

Springtime was also when Old Testament kings would “go forth in battle”. The book of 2nd Samuel tells the story of how King David personally led his forces into battle. The boy who defeated Goliath became the quintessential warrior King, leading his army to victory after victory. This was not Arnie’s Army. This was real warfare and David led his troops, winning all the Majors of his day, solidifying his position as the one and only King of all Israel.

But David’s story takes a sad twist. In one of the most convicting passages in the Bible, we hear that the King sent Joab and the troops to battle, “but David remained at Jerusalem.” (2 Samuel 11:1b). He stayed on his couch.

“It happened”. What happened? You know the story. He saw Bathsheba. He sent for Bathsheba. He took Bathsheba. He killed her husband.

But David’s sin did not start when he saw Bathsheba. His sin started when “David remained at Jerusalem.” He made a decision to take comfort on his couch. And as it turned out, the couch was more dangerous than the battlefield!

The King’s place was with his men in battle, not a couch of safety.

So, I confess. Like King David and many of you, I have been on my couch more than the battlefield during this springtime. Sadly, I really like it. I had no idea my couch was so wonderful. I was unaware that Netflix and the Golf Channel were available all afternoon.

But springtime is nearly over. It is time to confront our reality. God has called us for a battlefield, mostly for souls around the golf courses. He has told us to ‘go for it’. But we are now comfortable on the couch, thinking that ‘laying up’ may be safer.  

Many phone calls now end with ‘stay safe’. In other words, stay on your metaphorical couch, ‘lay up’ to be sure all ends well. Avoid all risk.

But now seems like the right time to get off the couch. The couch is not as safe as it looks. In fact, it can be downright dangerous.

The battlefield with God is a safer place than any couch without Him.

MADE FOR JOY

Let the heavens rejoice, and let the earth be glad; let the sea roar and the fulness thereof. Let the field be joyful and all that is therein. (Psalm 96:11-12, KJV)

I am sad today because I am supposed to be on a plane headed to Scotland. Tomorrow, I should be on the first tee at Royal Dornoch for my 7:42 AM tee time.

Like a boy in middle school love, I was smitten by links golf almost 40 years ago. Admittedly, she doesn’t love me back the way I love her, but still, I keep going back. Every year.

The focal point of the village of Dornoch is a famous cathedral, built in the 13th Century. Inside, a plaque recites Psalm 96:11-12, acknowledgement that God loves links golf even more than I do. I was inspired recently to write a poem to describe the spiritual experience of walking the links. God is there. But you must look for him. Look Up to the Heavens, Look Down to the Earth, Look Out to the Sea, and Look In to your Soul.

“Let the heavens be glad” (Look Up)

The views of the firth are so glorious
The clouds always moving in a beautiful disorder The direction of wind always different
The portraits so awesomely changing
The shadows mean the sun is still there
The moon shines so bright on the back nine

“Let the earth rejoice” (Look Down)

The colors of green seem endless
The ground that we walk brings energy
The bounce of the ball lasts forever
The putts that we hole bring such joy
The balls that we lose seem so happy
The earth is the judge of a shot’s real worth

“Let the sea roar, and all that fills it” (Look Out)

The smell of the sea invigorates the soul
The sounds of the sea are a symphony
The beach wants the ball when the wind is just right The seagulls fly low like old vultures
The senses are all tuned to water’s beauty
The scenes of the sea paint a picture

The straight ball is not to be seen
The distance means nothing to clubbing The score only matters in match play The bunkers eat balls like they’re hungry The rain suit is baggy but perfect
The ghosts of the past ever present

Indeed God himself judges the earth called links golf. And he says, “It is good.” Since the land was not suitable for crops or food or production or buildings, it is only suitable for play. Or rabbits perhaps or dogs on a walk. Or golf—a game where the ball must bounce and a rabbit hole is the proper home for that ball.

There’s more. In golf, pure righteousness and truth can be found. The player himself does not decide the outcome. The results are resolved by the earth itself, by the field of play, by the wind and the bounces, and the eyes of a caddie who finds a ball that should have been lost. Ultimate truth is not a number on a scorecard. It is the exhilaration of a six-mile walk interrupted by a few swings, a few strokes, and the fresh air through the nostrils and lungs creating joy all the way to the feet walking the firm ground.

This land was not made for crops. It was made for joy. So, look up, look down, look out, look in. Look for him. Look for joy.

DEATH AND TAXES

“For death has crept in through our windows and has entered our mansions.” (Eccl.7:4)

Right now, April 15, 2020, golfers should be sipping coffee and still discussing with great pleasure the amazing Masters golf tournament that ended on a glorious and sunny afternoon just three days ago.

Perhaps, “Can you believe Tiger won again?” Or maybe, “I am so glad Rory finally got his grand slam.” Or the best of all, “Unbelievable! Can you believe Bernard Langer birdied 18 to win the Masters at age 62. How does he do that?!?”

Instead, springtime has been a steady diet of Andy Griffith re-runs and Shell’s Wonderful World of Golf. I must say, there is nothing quite like watching Byron Nelson come out of retirement to beat that young whippersnapper Gene Littler at Pine Valley! Or Gene Sarazen nipping Henry Cotton with his coat, tie and flippy putting stroke on a miserably cold windy day at St. Andrews.

But instead of the Masters review, this April 15 we are reminded of the old adage: “There’s only two things certain in the world. Death and Taxes.”

But this year, taxes have been pushed to the back pages. Instead of our normal April 15 tax concerns, death has taken center stage.

Indeed, as I write this a few days in advance, today is the day when scientific models have predicted the Peak of Death in the USA from the CoVid-19. Supposedly, over 2,600 will die today in the USA from CoVid-19, say the experts.

Consider these facts. Nearly sixty million people die every year. That is two people per second, more than 150,000 daily. The lines to get inside the Pearly Gates are longer than the lady’s room at Madison Square Garden. Every day!

To break it down, nine million die of hunger, eight million die from smoking, three million die from alcohol, one million die from HIV, over one million die from car accidents, one million die from suicides, and get this, about 500,000 die from the old fashioned flu that basically scares no one.

So, let me say what you may not want to hear.

Death is here to stay. Death will still be here after the Corona Virus has been conquered. Death will be around after the economy has recovered. Death will not miss a beat.

The great teacher Job understood this. “If God snatches someone in death, who can stop him? Who dares to ask, ‘What are you doing?’” Job 9:12.

So seriously, do you know someone who fears death? Maybe even you?

The Bible offers three awesome persons with sound advice.

1st, King David said, “Death wrapped its ropes around me; the terrors of the grave overtook me. I saw only trouble and sorrow. Then I called on the name of the Lord: ‘Please, Lord, save me.’” Psalms 116:3-4. Call on the Lord!

2nd, Ezekiel reminded God’s people that we have a responsibility in this hour. “If the watchman sees the enemy coming and doesn’t sound the alarm to warn the people, he is responsible…… They will die in their sins, but I will hold the watchman responsible for their deaths.” Ezekiel 33:6-8. Warn the people!

3rd, then Jesus Himself reminds us. “I am the living one. I died, but look, I am alive forever and ever! And I hold the keys of death and the grave.” Rev 1’18. Jesus is Alive!

So, death is here to stay. But Jesus has conquered our greatest enemy!

JUBILEE MULLIGAN: 50 years of Freedom - 3/15/20

“This 50th year will be a JUBILEE for you.” Leviticus 25:11

Welcome to my birthday party! I was born March 18, 1951.

Ten years later, my father took up golf at age 44. He watched Arnie win the Masters on TV. Soon thereafter, the curse began for me. Mom dropped me off at a lighted Par Three course with rubber tees. I rented a 3-5-7-9 iron set, plus putter. I played over a hundred holes a day with my bad baseball grip. I was addicted to the smell of mown spring grass.   

My dear mother had not smelled that same grass, so she paid for me to take flute lessons when I really needed golf lessons. The Vardon grip and the flute grip were not compatible so I became mediocre at both.

But February 6, 1970 was an even better day.  I was ‘born again’. Thus, I celebrated last month my 50th spiritual birthday!!  

In Leviticus we learn that this 50th year should be a Holy year known as the JUBILEE. Read Leviticus 25 to learn all about it.

“Set this year apart as holy, a time to proclaim freedom throughout the land for all who live there. It will be a jubilee year for you…” Lev. 25:10.

The JUBILEE was a year of Freedom from debt and Restoration of rights. Everybody gets a huge Mulligan in the 50th year! A clean scorecard!

So, I declare in faith that 2020 will be a JUBILEE year. What should happen in 2020?

2020 should be a year of Sabbath.  The Lord showed me that I have retired but not really rested! So, Jubilee must include Sabbath rest, prayer and slow preparation for the next seven (7) years. It may mean cancellation of trips or events already planned. The corona virus has already made that happen.

2020 should be a year of Celebration. The Lord showed me the Joy of the past fifty years. I have written a lengthy summary for my family of what’s happened these 50 years, hoping they will know our story and celebrate with us.

2020 should be a year of Harvest. The Lord showed me that it is no accident that we recently moved to a golf community near Daphne, Alabama, which amazing is called the Jubilee City. This is one of only two places in the world where an awesome oceanic phenomenon takes place each summer, called a JUBILEE! According to Wikipedia,

‘during a jubilee many species of crab, shrimp, flounder and other large fish leave deeper waters and swarm- in large numbers and high intensity- in shallow coastal areas of the Mobile Bay. A jubilee is a celebrated event which attracts large crowds, drawn by the promise of abundant and easy to catch seafood.’

Fish literally jump out of the sea into buckets or nets. In 2020, fishers of men will find an abundant harvest. Lost souls looking for spiritual oxygen will come to the surface and jump into the nets. It will be a spiritual Jubilee.

My final confirmation came through Fadhli, my young Indonesian friend who plays on the university golf team at St. Andrews in Scotland. Last week he won his match 7&6 with a walk off Ace on the 13th hole.

Where? The Jubilee Course at St Andrews.

Okay, Lord, I hear you. 2020 will be a Year of Jubilee.

THE TEACHERS ASSISTANTS

For a time is coming when people will no longer listen to sound … teaching.  They ….. will look for teachers who will tell them whatever their itching ears want to hear. (2 Timothy 4:3)

As mentioned last time, hitting wedges and nine irons on the range makes me feel good, but it doesn’t teach me much. I don’t know how I am really swinging until I get to Mr. Five Iron- my teacher. He lets me know if I miss the sweet spot.

Metaphorically speaking, many believers stay on a comfortable range hitting short irons. They go to church regularly, have a small group that never asks tough questions, and read a few good books that scratch ‘itching ears’. They are afraid to confront the deeper issues that can only be revealed by the Teacher, God Himself.

My experience, after sitting under this Teacher for nearly fifty years, is that he has two great Assistants.

1. The Word of God. “All Scripture is inspired and useful to teach us what is true.” (2 Timothy 3:16). 

Many believers spend time listening to sermons or other good material, but stay away from the obvious best, the Scripture itself.

Why is that? “For the Word of God is alive and powerful. It is sharper than the sharpest two-edged sword, cutting between soul and Spirit, between joint and marrow. It exposes our innermost thoughts and desires.” (Hebrews 4:12).

That’s it. We don’t want to be exposed. We prefer to hit nine irons all day on the range, looking for words of comfort instead of words of conviction. The Bible is real. It is raw. It is Truth.

We must submit to this great Teacher, the raw Word of God. And I don’t mean five minutes a day. This assistant Teacher, inspired by the Holy Spirit, would love to get an hour a day or more from you. He is waiting on you- probably sitting on a desk near your favorite chair.

The second great assistant Teacher in God’s School is harder to understand. This may sting.

2. Marriage may be God’s best “Five Iron”- God’s assistant Teacher.

Many men will confide that everything is going ‘really good’, which means work, church, children, finances, and friends. But then they pause and whisper that their only real challenge is the marriage. Words like ‘pray for us’ come with a shake of the head. They don’t really want to talk about it or work on it, because it is too painful.

They prefer to keep hitting nine irons and wedges on the range instead of pulling the Five Iron to see what is really happening. They have a wall up to prevent God from touching that area of life.

Marriage is where God reveals to you who you really are. I am not the person you see speaking to hundreds of people at a public meeting, or mentoring a kid at the golf course, or even writing this devotional. That is the ‘performing me’.

The ‘real me’ is the man at home, whose patience is tested daily by small aggravations and words from by dear wife, the only person who can help me know who I truly am. God has given us marriage to make us holy, not happy.

So, as you consider how to apply these lessons, perhaps make up your mind to let God be your Teacher. And let His assistants do their work.

THE TEACHER: Mr. Five Iron

“Who is a Teacher like Him?” (Job 36:22)

In today’s modern world of golf, most professionals have a Teacher. Indeed, anyone wanting to improve their golf game should find a teacher. All the PGA pros reading this are saying, ‘Amen’.

But the Bible warns, ‘beware false teachers’. When I was 19, I had never had a golf lesson. A false teacher saw me and offered a free lesson. He showed me “Square to Square”. I had the semi-shanks for a year. So, teachers are good, but be careful.

 Now, fifty years later, I have decided that the Five Iron is my “Teacher”. Let me explain.

I go to the range to warm up. I hit some wedges and think, “Ok, I can still play.” I move onto the short irons, continuing the thought, “Not bad.” My mind continues the charade that I am a pretty good player. The short irons are false teachers.

But eventually I get to the six iron. Chinks in the armor begin to show. A toe job hooks left. A semi-chunk goes right. Only one in three is a decent strike. The six iron is John the Baptist, preparing the way for the real Teacher, Mr. Five Iron.

Only Mr. Five Iron teaches me the Truth about my swing and who I really am. If I can hit three good five irons in a row, squarely in the right direction on the right trajectory, then I know that I am ready. It never happens, because my Teacher screams out that I have a lot of work to do. “You can’t handle the Truth”, says the former mashie, mocking me most days.

Sometimes, not wanting to truly know the Truth, I skip Mr. Five Iron and go to the comfort of the Hybrids, which lure me into thinking that my swing is good. The ball gets airborne and solid on a nice line. Mr. Hybrid feels so safe and nice.

So……. what’s the point?

Most Christians do not really want a Teacher. They do not really want to get better, to be challenged, to fix problems that have laid dormant for years. They prefer the easy way.

So, do you have a Teacher?

Most believers would claim Jesus Himself as their teacher, but is He really?

The rich young ruler, who would have been a member of the finest country club, called Jesus ‘teacher’.

He asked “Teacher, what good deed must I do to have eternal life?” The young man didn’t like Jesus’ answer so “he went away sad”. (Matthew 19:22).

In golf language, he left the Five Iron and went back to his comfortable wedges, where he could pretend that he was indeed good enough.

The answer of course is to allow God to speak into the most difficult areas of your life. He is the ultimate Teacher who wants to dig deep and show you who you really are.

Psalm 139 offers a pattern. “Search me, O God, and know my heart, test me and know my anxious thoughts. Point out everything in me that offends you…...” (Ps 139”23-24). King David, for all his faults, was willing to invite the Teacher into his life to reveal the depths of his weakness.

BIG BERTHA: Dead at age Thirty (30)

Great Big Bertha walked slowly and somberly to the outdoor podium. She looked out over the largest gathering of golf clubs in history. Over one hundred clubs were dressed in their finest grips and covers. Many eyes were filled with tears.

“Thank you all for coming today. It is a sad day for all of us who knew my mother and your friend, Bertha. She was the grand ol’ lady of golf, loved and respected by everyone. She was an original.” Everyone nodded agreement.

“You called her BIG BERTHA. I called her Mom.” Emotion overcame the only daughter of Big Bertha. She reached for a small golf towel with a Pine Valley logo to wipe her tears.  

“She carried herself with dignity and class, never complaining when she was thrown or cursed. She brought sheer joy into the lives of so many, especially giving Mr. Wedge a lot of opportunities to shine,” she said with a smile. “Thank you for coming. Big Bertha’s death has already brought life by your appearance here today. Thank you!”

She took her seat next to the rest of Big Bertha’s family, including grandchildren Biggest Big Bertha and Big Bertha 454, plus the Callaway youngsters Rogue and Epic Flash, all sitting together on the front row.

The eulogy of Big Bertha’s eldest daughter brought joy filled tears. Almost all the greats had come for her funeral at the famous Pine Valley Golf Club in New Jersey, USA. Three other greats of the game offered eulogies to the exclusive crowd gathered on the green lawn near the 1st Tee.

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