Happy Mulligan Day!

In golf, when playing with family or friends, and not when the game is too serious, there is a generous act that the more skilled players offer to players like me.  That ability to take another try, to swing again, to do the turn over, is called a Mulligan.

There are several stories of how the extra shot got its name, but no one knows for certain whether it refers to a golfer by that name, or a free bottle of booze that may have been given to players on hot days.

What I like about it is the second chance to get it right.

One of the things I do as a deacon is to lead the congregation in the general confession.  I begin with an invitation.

Let us confess our sins against God and our neighbor.

When I say these words, I feel like shouting, "Hey!  We get a chance to fix things between us, right now!"

I always used to think of sin as breaking one of God's rules, that the need for confession was to wipe away the bad report and clear the card, so the poor performance would not appear when the day came that I would have to stand in judgment.

It was something between God and me, something private, personal and confidential, not something I shared with the community on Sunday in church.

The things I wish I could take back, though, are not always things between God and me.  Sometimes I hurt others, and while God is quick to offer a mulligan, someone else, someone close to me, might not be.

How do I wipe that slate clean?

In the general confession we say in church on Sunday, we get some help with that.

We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We are truly sorry and we humbly repent. 

It may not be easy to go up to someone we know and say words like these.

I haven't loved you as if you are me.  I am sorry and I truly, humbly want to change, to restore my relationship with you.

Why is that so hard?  Could it be that we aren't sure we will be forgiven?  Or do we rattle off the words in church without thinking about them, and then forget?  If we truly mean these words when we say them together, shouldn't it be easier to walk up to that family member or friend or neighbor and tell them we want to try again?

And what about when we are the ones who are hurt?

Isn't it funny that we can be much more generous on the golf course than in other places in our lives?

So, here is a thought.  Given that today is the celebration of the birth of John the Baptist, the one who offered second chances to so many through baptism at the River Jordan and other places, why not go out today in search of those who could use a second chance with us?

Let's call it Mulligan Day, and forgive those who hurt us.

We don't need to make a big deal about it.  Just call them up and say, ":Why don't we have a do-over?"

Maybe you can even invite them for a round of golf.

Happy Mulligan Day.