Besides his faith, Father Tim had two great loves, motorcycling and golf. He spent all day one spring Saturday getting his bike road-ready. Sunday dawned another beautiful, cloudless day and Father Tim’s thoughts turned to golf. He imagined riding in the cool breeze, feeling the fresh air, and then eighteen holes on a faraway course. His mind was made up.
“Father Joe,” he said, “I think I have a touch of the flu this morning. Could you take my Mass for me?”
“Sure. Get some rest and you’ll feel better,” answered Father Joe.
As soon as Father Joe left the rectory, Father Tim had put on his leathers and was on his motorcycle with his golf clubs stowed on the back, headed out of town.
St. Patrick and the Lord were looking down from Heaven.
“Lord, he’s lied and he missed saying Mass on Sunday. Aren’t you at least going to see to it that he gets a little road rash.”
The Lord just smiled.
Father Tim rode for most of the morning until he found a golf course where no one could possibly identify him.
As he teed up, St. Patrick asked, “How about a little rain and thunder and lightning to keep him off the course and send him a warning?”
The Lord just smiled.
The third hole was a long, straight shot over a water hazard.
St. Patrick said, “I see. You’re going to put him in the wet.”
The Lord just smiled.
Father Tim hit the ball hard and well. It hit the green and rolled slowly, slowly toward the pin. A hole in one!
St. Patrick said, “Aren’t you going to punish that wicked priest at all, then? Instead you reward him with a four-hundred yard hole in one.”
The Lord just smiled and asked, “Who’s he going to tell?”
Yet, there’s no denying it: Unless you plan to ride exclusively around the Southern United States, you’ll face some chilly winters. And even before it...
