Living a Sacramental Life

"...we are a paradoxical people whose lives vacillate between angst and tranquility... how could we ever hope to lead a grace-filled life?"

Is it possible to live a sacramental life in these times?  I’d like to think so.  A sacrament, according to one definition is “an outward, visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace.”  My guess is that many feel they aren’t living with a sense of internal spiritual grace.  In fact, I would bet that a large number of us live an internal life we would define as one of turmoil, of anxiety, of wanting, of despair, of confusion, of doubt, of fear, punctuated occasionally with a sense of joy and grace. 

It seems that we are a paradoxical people whose lives vacillate between angst and tranquility, and given that, how could we ever hope to lead a grace-filled life?  Here is one example.

I had a high school teacher whose act of grace may have saved my life.  I was always good at the subject of English in school.  Language and writing is a gift that has come easily to me.  Because of this gift, I became one of the favored students of Mrs. Clay, my English teacher.  Once, in what I thought was a happenstance conversation, she asked me what I was planning to do when I graduated high school.    I told her that me and my friend Buzzy were going to join the Air Force together.  My answer shocked her.  Keep in mind, I graduated high school in 1970, as the Viet Nam war was in full fury.   A day or two later, Mrs. Clay approached me and asked if I would consider applying for college if she helped me.  College wasn’t really on my agenda.  No one in my family – at that point – had ever been to college.  I said sure, because I liked her and didn’t want her to think I was ungrateful. 

Mrs. Clay did all the work.  She acquired the college application to her Alma Mater – which was only 30 miles away.  She sat me down to fill it out.  She made sure all the signatures were in place.  She mailed it in.  I don’t even know if there was an application fee.  And then she dogged me on whether or not I heard anything in response.  That was the only college application I made, and I was accepted.  She encouraged me to go, and I did.   My friend Buzzy wasn’t so lucky.  He did join the Air Force and was sent to Viet Nam.  He came back as a haunted soul who would wake up screaming in the night.  He ended up abusing drugs to numb his pain.

I’m convinced that Mrs. Clay’s work to get me to college was an outward, visible expression of grace.  She was kind and concerned and willing to do what she could to help out a precocious kid who didn’t think much about his future.

What if tomorrow we all woke up and decided to live a grace-filled life, even if we didn’t exactly feel full of grace? What would it be like if you woke up and chose to be thankful for the morning?  How would your day change if you peacefully ate your breakfast without simultaneously reading the newspaper or watching TV or checking your phone?  What if you decided that your little one’s stubborn refusal to cooperate was a joyful expression of her growing awareness of who she is and how she can command her world?  These decisions, and many like them are choices we can make. 

How many times through the course of a day might we get an opportunity to bestow grace upon ourselves, on those we love and those we encounter?  What would our world be if we were determined to serve as an outward, visible sign of our internal grace – even if we weren’t so sure that grace was our motivation.  Can our determination to act with grace and kindness become fertile soil for growing a bonified sense of our own internal grace? 
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I don’t know if Mrs. Clay was a spiritual person.  All I know is that she bestowed upon me a sacrament that changed my life.  Perhaps, the intention of bestowing grace on others is the only sacrament we really need.