The First Hole
Spirituality
Golf In The Real Kingdom
A Spiritual Metaphor For Life In The Modern World
Object:
Awe came upon everyone....
-- Acts 2:43
I grew up in the Forty Fort United Presbyterian Church near Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. Though the church has been around for over 200 years, I'm its only son who became a pastor. They even have a picture of me hanging near the back door under an exit sign. Despite my mom's assurances, I've always wondered why it ended up there.
That suspicion aside, Forty Fort U-P did more than any other in shaping my life and ministry. That's where I met Jesus, kissed a girl for the first time (I always liked youth group!), received a call to ministry, learned the church at its best is about loving like Jesus (invitationally, inclusively, and unconditionally), and met the most influential woman and man of my adolescent years.
Grace Blanchard was 104 when she stopped teaching Sunday school.
Maybe that's why I'm not especially sympathetic when our most seasoned members cite age for begging off boards, committees, and so on. Besides, the tired, tested, and true always have a lot more to offer than ecclesiastical rookies. That's why our pastor emeritus continues to be so vital to us. It takes a long time for theory to catch up with practice.
Anyway, Miss Blanchard had just crossed the century mark when I showed up in her class with nine other boys. She only taught boys. Whenever we asked why, she'd say something about focus. Like most eighth graders, I knew she was wrong. Now I know she was right because I've got one.
The last Sunday of every month was S-O-S Sunday in her class -- same old stuff! Starting in Genesis, she'd review salvation history in a well-drilled Q & A.
During my second year in seminary, she died. Her will dictated that anyone from Forty Fort U-P in seminary was to receive 1,000 dollars from her estate. Appropriately, I used the money to buy books about the Bible. They're in my study. She's in my heart. And the greatest lesson from her remains life in the Lord is perpetually fresh and exhilarating.
I was going to say the Reverend Harold F. Mante was my pastor for over two decades. But, in fact, he'll be my pastor forever. He was my pastor during confirmation class, God and Country Award, high school, college, seminary, graduate school, and right through my ordination on May 8, 1977. He also hung with me through some delinquent moments that would even make my eighth grader blush.
I'll never forget playing golf with my dad and Reverend Mante for the first time. I was about fourteen or fifteen. I striped my tee shot on the first hole right down the middle of the fairway about 250 yards or so. I was pumped, psyched, and ready to assume my destiny as the precursor to Tiger Woods until Reverend Mante flipped another ball to me and challenged, "Let's see if you can do it again."
The first shot was so good.
And I'll never forget the worship service that included my ordination. Reverend Mante preached. He kept pounding away at what he called the three B's of successful life and ministry: Be slow! Be steady! Be solid!
Over two decades later, I cannot get those three B's out of my mind. Whether it's planning church strategy or facing the first tee, it's how I approach just about everything.
Reverend Mante gave me a Princeton Seminary chair to celebrate my ordination. I keep it in my study. I sit on it for meetings and during counseling. It helps me to remember the two greatest lessons taught to me by my pastor. First, unconditionally love people no matter how weird or wily -- and I recall how he loved me when I fit into both categories. Second, just like golf, life is more than the first hole and there's always room for redemption, but it's a lot easier if you give it your best shot at the start.
So I approach my vocation (ministry) and avocation (golf) with Miss Blanchard and Reverend Mante in mind. I'm psyched whenever I prepare a sermon or stand at the first tee. And while I know I can always recover from bad sermons and starts (shots), it saves time and tears when doing it right the first time.
Whether it's God or golf, nothing can happen through you that has not first happened to you. Or as one missionary said, "You can't give away what you ain't got for yourself!"
In other words, if you're not exhilarated -- psyched -- whenever you enter the pulpit or tee it up, don't bother! Nobody wants to listen to or play with people who obviously don't care about what they're doing. That's why some churches are empty and some folks have problems getting partners.
I think of Milton the lawyer who reviewed documents from bond issues. His handicap was higher than New Jersey taxes. He approached his job and golf with the enthusiasm of someone being interviewed by Mike Wallace. So nobody wanted to work or play with him.
After about five holes of his firm's annual golf outing, his team walked off the course disgusted by his underwhelming approach to life and sport. So Milton caught up with the group on the next tee and asked if he could join them. Knowing his reputation, they said, "Sorry, Milton, but we've already got three."
Paul Azinger was playing with Gary Player on slow greens. Player remarked how he loved playing on slow greens. Then Azinger played with Player on fast greens. Player remarked how he loved playing on fast greens. So Azinger asked which was his favorite. And Player told him that the only way to enjoy the game is to enjoy the whole game.
I remember John Huffman telling me about Norman Vincent Peale's evaluation of him early in ministry which John was reciting as a caution to me early in ministry. Dr. Peale told John that he was like fireworks -- bright and brilliant and exciting and attractive and effective. But if he didn't pace himself for the long haul, Dr. Peale said his ministry would burn brightly but briefly with only ashes remaining to trace his ministry.
Whether it's the first hole or the first day on the job, it doesn't end at the beginning. Pacing for the long haul is the path to success. Or as Reverend Mante challenged me years ago: Be slow! Be steady! Be solid!
And yet the first hole and first day set the tone for what's ahead. My dad likes to say, "Start strong and stay strong and you'll succeed." Arnold Palmer put it this way (My Game and Yours, 1983):
Oh, it's great to overcome a bad start and come from behind, but it isn't easy. A bad start can discourage you, throwing your game off completely. We pros sometimes find that we have shot ourselves right out of a tournament on the first nine. The average player, if he starts off badly, finds it almost impossible to pull his game together. His confidence and concentration are gone for the day; he may as well go home ... How much better it is to start off as a firecracker and not have to come from behind ... For another, a good start sets you up mentally and gives you the confidence you need to keep playing your best.
And then putting the paradox together -- recovery is possible but a good start is preferable -- the king went on:
You have to keep reminding yourself all the time that the first three holes count, for it's easy to forget. Even in an eighteen-hole round the whole day seems to loom ahead of you. If you lose the first hole, there's always the second. And if you lose the second hole, too, there are sixteen to go ... But if you fall into this lackadaisical mental trap, your day can be ruined before you know it ... the rest of the round is just a chore and a nuisance. Chalk up another golf round spoiled by carelessness in the early stages.
That's why the early church outlined a very simple strategy for a slow, steady, and solid start (Acts 2:42-47):
They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers. Awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles. All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.
I think of Art in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. He made an appointment to see me and began, "Dr. Kopp, you always talk about a personal relationship with Jesus as the way to happiness, wholeness, joy, and eternal security. Well, how can I get that relationship?" I replied, "You won't get it with a snap of your fingers. It's a process: worship, pray, read the Bible, hang out with Christians, and take Holy Communion."
He did.
He did!
And Art is happy, whole, joyful, and secure.
I'm not saying every day at work will be a hot fudge sundae or that first drive will always find the fairway more than a two minute walk from the tee. I'm just saying the first day and first hole aren't nearly as daunting when you're psyched, slow, steady, and solid.
-- Acts 2:43
I grew up in the Forty Fort United Presbyterian Church near Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. Though the church has been around for over 200 years, I'm its only son who became a pastor. They even have a picture of me hanging near the back door under an exit sign. Despite my mom's assurances, I've always wondered why it ended up there.
That suspicion aside, Forty Fort U-P did more than any other in shaping my life and ministry. That's where I met Jesus, kissed a girl for the first time (I always liked youth group!), received a call to ministry, learned the church at its best is about loving like Jesus (invitationally, inclusively, and unconditionally), and met the most influential woman and man of my adolescent years.
Grace Blanchard was 104 when she stopped teaching Sunday school.
Maybe that's why I'm not especially sympathetic when our most seasoned members cite age for begging off boards, committees, and so on. Besides, the tired, tested, and true always have a lot more to offer than ecclesiastical rookies. That's why our pastor emeritus continues to be so vital to us. It takes a long time for theory to catch up with practice.
Anyway, Miss Blanchard had just crossed the century mark when I showed up in her class with nine other boys. She only taught boys. Whenever we asked why, she'd say something about focus. Like most eighth graders, I knew she was wrong. Now I know she was right because I've got one.
The last Sunday of every month was S-O-S Sunday in her class -- same old stuff! Starting in Genesis, she'd review salvation history in a well-drilled Q & A.
During my second year in seminary, she died. Her will dictated that anyone from Forty Fort U-P in seminary was to receive 1,000 dollars from her estate. Appropriately, I used the money to buy books about the Bible. They're in my study. She's in my heart. And the greatest lesson from her remains life in the Lord is perpetually fresh and exhilarating.
I was going to say the Reverend Harold F. Mante was my pastor for over two decades. But, in fact, he'll be my pastor forever. He was my pastor during confirmation class, God and Country Award, high school, college, seminary, graduate school, and right through my ordination on May 8, 1977. He also hung with me through some delinquent moments that would even make my eighth grader blush.
I'll never forget playing golf with my dad and Reverend Mante for the first time. I was about fourteen or fifteen. I striped my tee shot on the first hole right down the middle of the fairway about 250 yards or so. I was pumped, psyched, and ready to assume my destiny as the precursor to Tiger Woods until Reverend Mante flipped another ball to me and challenged, "Let's see if you can do it again."
The first shot was so good.
And I'll never forget the worship service that included my ordination. Reverend Mante preached. He kept pounding away at what he called the three B's of successful life and ministry: Be slow! Be steady! Be solid!
Over two decades later, I cannot get those three B's out of my mind. Whether it's planning church strategy or facing the first tee, it's how I approach just about everything.
Reverend Mante gave me a Princeton Seminary chair to celebrate my ordination. I keep it in my study. I sit on it for meetings and during counseling. It helps me to remember the two greatest lessons taught to me by my pastor. First, unconditionally love people no matter how weird or wily -- and I recall how he loved me when I fit into both categories. Second, just like golf, life is more than the first hole and there's always room for redemption, but it's a lot easier if you give it your best shot at the start.
So I approach my vocation (ministry) and avocation (golf) with Miss Blanchard and Reverend Mante in mind. I'm psyched whenever I prepare a sermon or stand at the first tee. And while I know I can always recover from bad sermons and starts (shots), it saves time and tears when doing it right the first time.
Whether it's God or golf, nothing can happen through you that has not first happened to you. Or as one missionary said, "You can't give away what you ain't got for yourself!"
In other words, if you're not exhilarated -- psyched -- whenever you enter the pulpit or tee it up, don't bother! Nobody wants to listen to or play with people who obviously don't care about what they're doing. That's why some churches are empty and some folks have problems getting partners.
I think of Milton the lawyer who reviewed documents from bond issues. His handicap was higher than New Jersey taxes. He approached his job and golf with the enthusiasm of someone being interviewed by Mike Wallace. So nobody wanted to work or play with him.
After about five holes of his firm's annual golf outing, his team walked off the course disgusted by his underwhelming approach to life and sport. So Milton caught up with the group on the next tee and asked if he could join them. Knowing his reputation, they said, "Sorry, Milton, but we've already got three."
Paul Azinger was playing with Gary Player on slow greens. Player remarked how he loved playing on slow greens. Then Azinger played with Player on fast greens. Player remarked how he loved playing on fast greens. So Azinger asked which was his favorite. And Player told him that the only way to enjoy the game is to enjoy the whole game.
I remember John Huffman telling me about Norman Vincent Peale's evaluation of him early in ministry which John was reciting as a caution to me early in ministry. Dr. Peale told John that he was like fireworks -- bright and brilliant and exciting and attractive and effective. But if he didn't pace himself for the long haul, Dr. Peale said his ministry would burn brightly but briefly with only ashes remaining to trace his ministry.
Whether it's the first hole or the first day on the job, it doesn't end at the beginning. Pacing for the long haul is the path to success. Or as Reverend Mante challenged me years ago: Be slow! Be steady! Be solid!
And yet the first hole and first day set the tone for what's ahead. My dad likes to say, "Start strong and stay strong and you'll succeed." Arnold Palmer put it this way (My Game and Yours, 1983):
Oh, it's great to overcome a bad start and come from behind, but it isn't easy. A bad start can discourage you, throwing your game off completely. We pros sometimes find that we have shot ourselves right out of a tournament on the first nine. The average player, if he starts off badly, finds it almost impossible to pull his game together. His confidence and concentration are gone for the day; he may as well go home ... How much better it is to start off as a firecracker and not have to come from behind ... For another, a good start sets you up mentally and gives you the confidence you need to keep playing your best.
And then putting the paradox together -- recovery is possible but a good start is preferable -- the king went on:
You have to keep reminding yourself all the time that the first three holes count, for it's easy to forget. Even in an eighteen-hole round the whole day seems to loom ahead of you. If you lose the first hole, there's always the second. And if you lose the second hole, too, there are sixteen to go ... But if you fall into this lackadaisical mental trap, your day can be ruined before you know it ... the rest of the round is just a chore and a nuisance. Chalk up another golf round spoiled by carelessness in the early stages.
That's why the early church outlined a very simple strategy for a slow, steady, and solid start (Acts 2:42-47):
They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers. Awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles. All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.
I think of Art in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. He made an appointment to see me and began, "Dr. Kopp, you always talk about a personal relationship with Jesus as the way to happiness, wholeness, joy, and eternal security. Well, how can I get that relationship?" I replied, "You won't get it with a snap of your fingers. It's a process: worship, pray, read the Bible, hang out with Christians, and take Holy Communion."
He did.
He did!
And Art is happy, whole, joyful, and secure.
I'm not saying every day at work will be a hot fudge sundae or that first drive will always find the fairway more than a two minute walk from the tee. I'm just saying the first day and first hole aren't nearly as daunting when you're psyched, slow, steady, and solid.
