I don’t play golf with Father Cunningham anymore.
It’s not because he’s so much better than me.
It’s because of how he’s so much better than me.
“Oh, I just have Sister Mary say a blessing over my balls before I go out to play,” he said one day.
And I didn’t think about this at all. It was just a little divine intervention.
Heck, don’t we all sneak in a little prayer now and then to beg The Almighty for help?
Then, I realized that he always bought golf balls still in a package before every round we played.
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The Reverend Francis Norton woke up Sunday morning and realizing it was an exceptionally beautiful and sunny early spring day, decided he just had to play golf. So… he told the Associate Pastor that he was feeling sick and convinced him to say Mass for him that day.
As soon as the Associate Pastor left the room, Father Norton headed out of town to a golf course about forty miles away. This way he knew he wouldn’t accidentally meet anyone he knew from his Parish. Setting up on the first tee, he was alone. After all, it was Sunday morning and everyone else was in church!
At about this time, Saint Peter leaned over to the Lord while looking down from the heavens and exclaimed, ‘You’re not going to let him get away with this, are you?’
The Lord sighed, and said, “No, I won’t.”
Just then Father Norton hit the ball and it shot straight towards the pin, dropping just short of it, rolled up and fell into the hole. IT WAS A 420 YARD HOLE IN ONE!
St. Peter was astonished. He looked at the Lord and asked, “Why did you let him do that?”
The Lord smiled and replied, “Who’s he going to tell?”