Newspaper Page Text
PAGE 10 - The Georgia Bulletin, July 19, 1990
© 1990 by Catholic News Service.
On being
GRACE-FULL
CNS photo by Mimi Forsyth
By Father Eugene LaVerdiere, SSS
Catholic News Service
Thirty years ago is not such a long
time, unless you’re 30 years old. But
then, think of the changes that have
taken place since 1960.
That’s the year I began my studies in
theology. One of the topics we talked
about was grace.
Grace was very important. It was the
way we talked about our relationship
with God, a wonderful transforming
relationship. Grace even provided
special help from God for difficult
challenges and responsibilities.
Grace was a special kind of life, a gift
of God that attuned us to God. This
divine life needed a follow-up. Human
parents do not abandon their children
at birth. Neither does God.
Today, 30 years later, I can’t recall
the last time I heard a group of students
talking about grace. The year 1960
seems a long time ago, after all.
Whatever did happen to grace?
There were problems, of course. We
tended to quantify grace. It didn’t occur
to us then, but that was like trying to
quantify love.
There was no measuring the love of
human parents in quarts and pints, but
somehow we managed to think of divine
grace with images of milk bottles more
or less full.
And by the way, whatever happened
to milk bottles?
Milk bottles have joined the stuff of
history. Who would have thought
they’d ever be collectors’ items?
But what about grace?
Grace is still with us, even if we have
new ways of talking about it. What
went is the tendency to quantify grace.
Just a few days ago, I heard a
wonderful story about grace from an
elderly member of the Little Company
of Mary, Sister Mary Paul.
With her full head of silken white hair,
peaceful smile and short firm steps
assisted by a walker, Sister Mary Paul
is the kind of woman you’d like to take
home with you.
The story took place in 1960. Sister
Mary Paul was on a train from Jasper,
Ind., to Chicago. Opposite her sat an
18-year-old Jewish boy named Leyi.
At one of the stops, a passenger
leaned over to Sister Mary Paul as she
went out and said, “Sister, would you
say a prayer for me?”
She nodded a yes.
After the train got going again, Levi
spoke up. “Why did that woman ask
you to pray for her?”
As Sister Mary Paul went on, I could
visualize young Levi watching her
closely as he listened. “I suppose
because of my life dedication to God.
She felt I would care enough for her to
pray for her.”
Fields and trees and railroad cross
ings flitted past.
After awhile, Levi turned to Sister
Mary Paul and asked, “Sister, do you
like Jewish rye bread?”
“Oh yes! I do.”
“He took out a big loaf, broke off a
generous piece and gave it to me.”
“Take it, eat!”
“I had shivers all through me.”
“How wonderful!” I said.
Sister went on. “We both ate, neither
of us saying anything I can remember.
But before he got up to leave, Levi
leaned over to me and said, “Sister,
would you pray for me?”
Returning from her memory to me
and 1990, Sister Mary Paul concluded
her story. “That was 30 years ago. He
was just a student then. I wonder where
he is now.”
Sister Mary Paul still prays for Levi.
“I’ve lots of time you know.”
The word grace did not enter into
Sister Mary Paul’s story, not even once.
But its reality was surely there.
Grace received a new name:
God-with-us, new only
because we had forgotten it.
There was Sister Mary Paul’s
presence and obvious dedication, the
visible embodiment of grace, like an
enduring smile. We used to call that
kind of grace “sanctifying grace.”
Sanctifying grace is lovingly given
and generously transforming.
The angel Gabriel referred to sancti
fying grace on greeting Mary, the
mother of Jesus: “Hail, full of grace. The
Lord is with you.”
The angel’s greeting is now part of
every Catholic’s prayer. We may not
talk about grace much, but we do talk
about God being with someone. We
think of this as new language for grace,
but we owe it to the angel Gabriel no
less than the old language of grace.
Even in 1960, those who talked to
Sister Mary Paul on the train between
Jasper and Chicago did not think of her
as blessed with grace. But they
certainly knew God was with her and
that is why they asked her to pray for
them.
That is not all. What about the
woman who asked for prayer? And what
about Levi, the Jewish boy who asked
why she had done that, who pondered
her answer, offered her Jewish rye bread
and later asked her to pray for him?
In 1960, all of those were so many
“actual graces,” little gifts, special
helps, reminding us that God was
indeed with us.
What about that shiver Sister Mary
Paul felt and which memory still recalls
after 30 years? Another actual grace!
It should be clear then what happen
ed to grace. It received a new name:
God-with-us, new only because we had
forgotten it.
And by the way, Sister Mary Paul’s
story was quite a gift itself, a grace
actually.
(Father LaVerdiere is senior editor of
Emmanuel magazine.)
FAITH IN THE MARKETPLACE
What Does God do?
Choose one or two words
or phrases to characterize
roles God fulfills in
your own life.
“God liberates me to see things differently so I can act differently.”
— Ennio Mastroianni, Mayfield, Md.
“He helps us to be good people. He gives us strength ... in the sacraments.”
— Chris Nelson (grade 5), Mayhew Lake, Minn.
“My 49-year-old daughter is dying of cancer and I couldn’t get through it. God
gives you what you need to bear these things.” — Mary Ellen Ackerman, Baltimore, Md.
“God has given me an attitude of acceptance and surrender to his will. This
means being free to invest my time and energy in more positive endeavors.”
— Bessie Briscoe, Washington, D.C.
“God gives us a beautiful world.’
— Stacy Kim (grade 5), Mayhew Lake, Minn.
“God comes to me through my ministry to handicapped persons who enrich me
by their ability to love God, totally.” — Sister Justa Walton, Baltimore, Md.
An upcoming edition asks: “As a pastoral counselor, exactly what do you do? And where do you do It?" If you’d like to respond for
possible publication, write: Faith Allve\ 3211 Fourth St. N.E., Washington, CLC. 20017-1100.^ 1 UL J MJIU , u gfc