Grace is one of the most important aspects of our lives, however it seems at times too big to talk about. Just when we think we have defined, categorized and placed it in the appropriate box, it eludes our grasp like thin air.

In my childhood religious studies, I recall Sister Mary Finbar telling my fourth grade class that it was critical to our eternal salvation that we live in the "state" of grace. I didn't have a clue what eternal salvation meant but I knew I was doomed because I lived in the "state" of California.

When I told my father that we had to leave California and move to the "state" of grace or we were all going to hell, his face became quite distorted. I figured that he was either unhappy with my comment or the refried beans he had eaten for dinner were on the attack.

I later find out that when it came to spiritual matters my father lived in the "state" of denial. Maybe this is why I disliked geography so much.

Well, here I am at the age of 49 still struggling with grace and how it applies to my life.

Growing up I knew every conceivable way to lose grace but I was never quite sure how to get it or keep it. I was told that I could earn grace and even store it up by good works, prayer, example and a myriad of other ways. When I asked Sister Finbar that if I could earn it when would I know I had enough to go to heaven? I discovered for the first time that a ruler has many functions other than measurement.

I have realized that my perspective of grace both guides and limits me. If I look at grace as simply something "out there" to be achieved it becomes like money or a lottery ticket. The more I acquire the better chance I have to attain a better seat in heaven. I choose to believe that grace is something "in here" to be experienced in my daily life. However, in order to recognize the grace I speak of, I must at times step back from programs, structures, organization and institution.

In reviewing my life and my many stories of faith, I have come to understand that my most significant and powerful moments of grace were never scheduled in a church bulletin.

They have been found in my common, ordinary, daily human experiences. When a close friend of mine died, the many times I worried about the faith of my children, the 27 years of marriage to my bride Linda, the births of my three granddaughters, or when our daughters left home, and the many moments when I faced and talked about my biggest hopes and fears.

One of the greatest gifts that our Church can give us is to teach us that what we do in our everyday lives is sacred and holy.

Sister Finbar, wherever you are, thank you and may God hold you in His arms. I now understand that you were also a moment of grace.

Glenn Harmon © 2002