Faith on the Fairway
- May 4
- 2 min read
An article by Deacon Dan Ritchie
Faith on the fairway.
There’s something about golf that reveals the truth about a person. I’ve played the game for many years and have been blessed to win a number of tournaments. In smaller events, I played freely and confidently. But when I stepped into larger provincial and national championships, when the stakes were higher, the competition stronger, and more people were watching, I often struggled. I rarely broke par.
Same golfer. Same swing. Very different results.
It took me a long time to understand why. It wasn’t a lack of ability. It was pressure, the quiet voice that said, “You need to prove yourself here.” Instead of simply playing, I started managing expectations, my own and those I imagined others had of me. Everything tightened. My swing became cautious. The rhythm disappeared. I stopped playing freely.
Over time, I realized this wasn’t just a golf lesson, it was a spiritual one.
In the Gospel, Jesus repeats a simple but powerful command: “Do not be afraid.” Fear doesn’t just live in our thoughts; it shapes how we act. It makes us guarded, self-reliant, and focused on proving ourselves. Instead of living with trust, we begin performing.
Spiritually, that’s where we often go wrong.
We start to believe that we need to earn God’s love that we need to be better, do more, or prove ourselves worthy. But the Gospel tells a different story. God’s love is not something we achieve; it’s something we receive. It doesn’t increase with our success or decrease with our failures. It is constant, faithful, and freely given.
When we forget that, we begin trying to control everything. And in doing so, we lose the freedom that comes from trusting God.
In golf, the best shots happen when you’re relaxed, committed, and present. You trust your swing. You don’t overthink, you let it happen. The spiritual life is similar. Trust in God creates freedom. It allows us to live with peace rather than pressure.
The saints understood this deeply. St. Teresa of Avila once said that prayer is nothing more than a close sharing between friends. Friendship doesn’t require performance, it requires trust. And trust leads to freedom.
Looking back, I can see that my struggles in bigger tournaments were actually a gift. They humbled me. They reminded me that I’m not in control, and that my identity isn’t found in success. God didn’t call me to be successful, He called me to be faithful.
And that’s a lesson for all of us.
Life will place us in “big tournaments”—moments where the pressure is real. A health diagnosis. A family crisis. A major decision. In those moments, we can either tighten up and rely only on ourselves, or we can trust.
Trust that God is present. Trust that His grace is enough. Trust that we don’t have to prove anything, we simply need to be faithful in the next step.
If I could go back and play those tournaments again, I wouldn’t change my swing. I’d change my mindset. I’d remind myself: just play. Be free. Trust what you’ve been given.



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