A Bishop was an active golphoholic. But he always put his clubs away Saturday night and would not pick them up again till monday morning.

One Sunday.... after a particularly ugly week of rain, the Bishop got up very early -- as the sun was rising -- and snuck on to a public golf course to play one quick round before mass.

At that moment, St. Peter looks down from heaven and sees what the Bishop is up to.

"God," Peter creis, "God... Get over her and take a look at this. He is BLASPHEMOUS."

"Don't worry, Pete. I saw this comming. I am taking care of this."

At that very moment, the Bishop teas off at the first hole, a 515 yard, dog leg right, par 5. The ball leaps from the pin, soars through the air executes a text book right curve strikes the ground 298 yards from the tee with incredible velocity jumps forward and, miracle of miracles, after three bounces drops into the hole without even striking the flag stick.

The Bishop is astonished, as is Peter... "Did you see, that Sir. He dropped it straight into the hole... That was a miracle... I thought you were punishing him."

"With time, you will understand," says God as he walks away.

Peter watches with astonishment as the Bishop, hole after hole, drops the tee shot into the cup.

As the Bishop puts his ball down on the tee at eighteen, Peter summons God once again. "He is about to set a record, Sir... and you are doing nothing about it..."

The club colided with the ball... the ball flew... and dropped into the hole.

"I am confused."

"Pete... think about it... He is a man of God... a preacher of the holy word... He has just shot the perfect game... On Sunday.... Without paying the green fees... Who can he tell?"