This may seem like a really odd title for an inspirational piece. I know many people would flat out say there is nothing spiritual about golf and dismiss it out of hand. That may well be true. I certainly am not going to argue that golf is inherently spiritual. Nor am I going to say that I know golf is spiritual. My real question is whether golf can be spiritual?
This question is rooted in two aspects of reality for me. The first is the Quaker perspective that all of life is sacred. This is the normal Quaker way into a discussion about the sacraments. Quakers who know something about sacramental theology would readily agree that the sacraments of the Christian Church, i.e. the eucharist, baptism and others, are sacred. It would be silly to think that all of life is sacred, except the two things most Christians assume are sacred or sacramental. But I know some silly Quakers! The second aspect of reality is quite simple. I just played a round of golf. So that is now part of my experience. From that I began to wonder whether there was anything spiritual about it?
I would be ok to conclude there is nothing spiritual about golf. It does not make me wish I had not done it. I do not consider it a waste of time, although I know some folks who do consider it a gross waste of time. And I know others have some concerns about the ecology of golf and the economics of the game. I don’t want to deal with this now, but recognize some people would thereby accuse me of complicity in a global problem.
As I already indicated, I don’t think golf is inherently spiritual. If it were, then that would mean that we are spiritual whenever we play golf. Clearly, this is nonsense to me. I like to play, but it is not that important to me. If I never played again in my life, I would be quite fine with that. I would not feel the slightest deprived. It is an enjoyable game and I am ok if I conclude it is only that: a game---a game, but not spiritual.
I am pretty clear why I play. It is for the friendship. When I play, it is to be with someone or a couple folks with whom I want to be. Of course, we could just go have coffee somewhere---and I have done that many times. But it is also fun to spend part of a day hitting a ball and walking around in conversation. I know that I would not go play golf by myself. That would not be enjoyable. I go for the fellowship. If golf is spiritual, it is because of the friendship element.
When I realize this, I know that I am on to something. Friendship is pretty special to me. I have long been fascinated by it. In fact, some years ago, I created a class at the college and called it “Spiritual Friendship.” It became fairly popular. It was simple. We simply took time to become acquainted with the long history of friendship. It also required students to think more deeply about the nature of friendship than typically we do. In a world where folks claim to have 500 friends on Facebook, it is easy to become cavalier about what a friend is and who qualifies as a friend. I hear students talk about their “new friends,” only to realize they had just met someone!
That is not how the early Greeks and Jews talked about friendship. That is not how friendship is a constant theme in Christian literature from Augustine to Aelred of Rievaulx up to our own time in the wonderful work by Liz Carmichael, who used to teach at Oxford University. Friendship is nothing more than an exploration of love---Christian love in my understanding. Having said this, you can now see how loaded the word, friend, has become for me. I have never been on Facebook, so I don’t have 500 friends. Nor do I even think that is really possible. Of course, I know 500 people, but they are not all friends!
If friendship is essentially about love, then it becomes fairly easy to move from love to a discussion of spirituality. The makes even more sense if we accept the Biblical teaching that God is love. If God is love and the word, friend, is actually a love-word (as it is in the classical languages, like Greek), then it makes sense to talk about friendship as an avenue to the spiritual.
Maybe I should really claim that for me golf is an excuse to be with a friend for half a day. There is a commitment of time, attention and interaction that is crucial. If we are serious about golf for the day, we may keep score. I am still sufficiently competitive, I want to do as well as I can. But I know friendships don’t really keep score. And friendships are not really competitive.
I come to the place that I can say, yes, there can be something spiritual about golf. When golf is the occasion to root me in love and to act out of love, then it has become spiritual. I am willing to argue that where there is authentic love, there is the Spirit. Having said that, I also recognize that golf might be an occasion for the profane. Profanity is simply one indicator of that. I could play out this scenario, but I am sure you already get it.
Golf can be fun, but friendship is the key.
Those of us who have read theology or, perhaps, those who are people of faith and are old enough might well recognize this title as a reminder of the late Jewish philosopher and theologian, Martin Buber. I remember reading Buber’s book, I and Thou , when I was in college in the 1960s. It was already a famous book by then. I am not sure I fully understood it, but that would not be the last time I read it. It has been a while since I looked at the book. Buber came up in a conversation with a friend who asked if I had seen the recent article by David Brooks? I had not seen it, but when I was told about it, I knew I would quickly locate and read that piece. I very much like what Brooks decides to write about and what he contributes to societal conversation. I wish more people read him and took him seriously. Brooks’ article focused on the 2016 contentious election. He provocatively suggests, “Read Buber, Not the Polls!” I think Brooks puts
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