Accounts vary, but the majority opinion is that golf’s “mulligan” was named for Canada’s Dave Mulligan. While on the links nearly one hundred years ago, Dave mishit his first shot and promptly teed up another ball.  The ensuing drive he called a “correction shot,” but his friends called it a “mulligan.”

Today, a mulligan is generally allowed only (if at all) on the first shot of any round of golf although charity events sell mulligans to raise additional funds.  A mulligan is golf’s “do- over” and something many of us could not do without.

I’d like one.  A mulligan, I mean.  My last shot needs correction.  It was a mishit. I don’t know what went wrong.

You see, it’s hard to say why some shots go awry.  There is always more than one factor at work in any event, and we can’t control all influences or eventualities.  They say good golfers are able to put the memory of bad shots behind. Average players are not able to do the same, and life’s mistakes are hard for anyone to forget.  Mulligans don’t count on the scorecard, but erasures always leave their marks..

You can’t unring a bell.  “The moving finger writes, and, having writ, moves on.”  I’d like to cancel some of the lines in my past, but even God can’t undo what has been done.  However, God can rectify the wrong and justify the wrongdoer. Flesh can accomplish neither of these.  And God can give a second chance, a legitimate “do-over,” because He has the right to suspend the rules of the game.  Truth and consequences are at the disposal of the Sovereign and subject to His will. It’s called grace.

We don’t have the option of quitting the game.  True, there are some who have cancelled their round, but, even for them, the game didn’t really end.  Once we begin, we play to completion and only have so much time between shots. Perhaps, the sense of urgency is actually a contributing cause of bad strikes.  There have been some stellar scores, but perfection is unattainable. Though the elements conspire against us, play on we must. We all need a little divine intervention and for the ball to occasionally kick our way.

Throughout our lives, we need grace greater than our sins- recoveries for every blunder and misstep.  It is possible for us if we don’t take it for granted. If I get a mulligan, it doesn’t mean I don’t try on the next shot.  In the same way, those forgiven of past deeds don’t frustrate the grace of God by living unconcerned lives. Being out of contention may make us want to quit, but we ought not.  The point of grace is recovery- not remorse. I may have missed the last cut, but I can’t withdraw from active play. I’ve got a tee-time.        

Sterl