ESPN Golf

Every golfer, if he or she plays the game long enough, will hit that perfect shot, that one swing when absolutely everything goes right … then watch in horror as the ball plugs in the face of a bunker. Or splashes into a lake. Or worst of all, just disappears altogether. And most of us, the rational beings that we are, will consider the events that transpired and reach the most obvious conclusion: The golf gods did it.

It's not a belief that stops with amateurs. When Sergio Garcia lost the 2007 British Open in a playoff to Padraig Harrington, he seemed fairly certain about why.

"I'm playing against a lot of guys out there, more than the field," he said.

PGA Tour player Woody Austin's a believer, too. Despite a shaky first round at the 2005 Mercedes Championship, Woody found himself just off the lead, and he was convinced the golf gods wouldn't stand for it.

"You keep testing them, and they are going to get you." By Friday night, he was 10 shots back.

But what does organized religion think about all this? Are there really supreme beings who take pleasure in a fried-egg lie or a T.C. Chen double-hit chip?

It's the holidays -- what better time for a spiritual journey?

The search for real answers starts with Father Pasquale Vuoso, pastor of St. Sebastian's Catholic Church in Santa Paula, Calif., and a priest who has been known to end Sunday Mass with a rundown of his most recent golf scores.

"In golf," Vuoso begins, "most things are going to go wrong."

Yes, this is truly a golfer speaking. Still, he says, if we're waiting for God to help us on the golf course, "we're in real trouble."

For Vuoso, who plays to a 6.0 index, the challenge of golf is built right into the game. It's not God that creates good and bad bounces, he says, it's golf. That's a mature statement, especially coming from someone who hit a drive the last time he played that bounced on the cart path and rolled 75 yards right back toward him.

"Murphy's Law is very much at work in golf," Vuoso points out. "Murphy was probably Catholic."

John Crosby, senior pastor of Christ Presbyterian Church in Edina, Minn., and a 10.2. index, admits there have been plenty of times on the course when he has asked that familiar question, "What have I done to deserve this?" But, he adds, "If God is interested in my golf game, it's much more in my response or my recovery than my score."

For Crosby, one of the great gifts of golf is the way it forms character, and "Clearly, God is much more concerned about the fact I keep nudging my ball from behind the tree."

I'm fairly certain that was a hypothetical, but the other three guys in Pastor Crosby's next foursome might want to tag along next time he blocks one way right.

Next up is Shmuel Ross, 29, an Orthodox Jew and low single-digit handicap golfer. The great story about Ross is that he converted only after he failed to make his college golf team and knew he'd have his Saturdays open to keep the Sabbath. But just like the priest and the minister (I really should have had these guys walk into a bar, just for the joke), Ross won't take the golf gods bait.

"I've blamed nature. I've blamed my swing. I've blamed the ball … but not God."

It is starting to appear as though no one's willing to go on record about the existence of golf gods.

Ishani Chowdhury, the director of public policy at the Hindu American Federation, can barely let me get the question out of my mouth.

"There's actually no relevance to Hinduism at all. It has nothing to do with Hindu terminology or theology in any way."

From the sounds of it, this is a hot button issue over at the HAF.

At this point, the negative responses came fast. Buddhism? Sorry. Shintoism? Nope. The only group that might have been willing to accept the idea of a golf god was the Neo-Druids, a pagan religion revolving around nature worship and plant sacrifices. If nothing else, they at least could appreciate a giant divot taken in anger. I even tried to contact one of them, but this close to the winter solstice, trying to get five minutes with a Neo-Druid is apparently wishful thinking.

Just when it seemed as though there was no one willing to take a pro-golf-god stand, I remembered John Ziegler. Ziegler is, among many other things, the "pastor" of the First Church of Tiger Woods, an online collection of Tiger's otherworldly accomplishments -- from his early days to June's U.S. Open miracle.

Not surprisingly, Ziegler is more than happy to take sides.

"If [Tiger] is not the God of golf, he certainly must have done some amazing favors for whoever is."

Hmmm. Garcia probably won't like this line of thinking.

The larger truth in all this is that the existence of God is awfully tough to prove. As such, we golfers should feel thankful. Because with every ugly lie and bad bounce we endure, perhaps God is just making it that much easier for us to believe that, indeed, there's something else out there.

Bob Smiley is a regular contributor to ESPN.com's golf coverage and the author of the new book "Follow the Roar." He also writes the golf blog Fore Right and can be reached at bobsmiley77@gmail.com.