Grace

"For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith - and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God - not by works, so that no one can boast." - Ephesians 2:8-9

As a child, I was accident-prone, making my family "frequent fliers" at Jane Phillips Hospital in Bartlesville. I still bear several scars of a completely normal childhood. There's a place where my lip was stitched back together after I toppled over on a chair, busting my mouth on a twin bed post. I got a bad case of road rash while bravely roller-skating down a hill on the Pathfinder Parkway. My giraffe-like legs went out from under me, causing me to skid down the pavement on my backside.

My mother used to call me "Grace," when one of these unfortunate incidents occurred. I don't think she meant it as a compliment.

Thankfully, the Apostle Paul was not referencing the elegant movements of a jungle cat when speaking of grace. Biblical grace is God's unmerited favor shown to human beings. It is not earned and certainly not deserved.

Polish theologian Paul Tillich said that when humans experience grace, it is as if God were saying, "You are accepted. You are accepted by that which is greater than you, and the name of which you do not know. Do not ask for the name now; perhaps you will find it later. Do not try to do anything now; perhaps later you will do much. Do not seek for anything; do not perform anything; do not intend anything. Simply accept the fact that you are accepted!"

This is a difficult concept for most of us to grasp. We live in a world where acts of grace are the exception rather than the rule. We marvel at the Good Samaritan who stops to change our flat tire on the side of a frigidly cold interstate. We blink back tears as we ask him how much we owe him and he replies, "Not a thing. I hope you have a better day."

I recently returned from an amazing jaunt to Paris, France. While there, I visited Sacre Coeur, the Catholic basilica perched on the highest point of the city. I climbed the nearly 300 steps to the very top of the dome, admiring the beautiful decorations carved into the travertine...and not appreciating the graffiti of people who wanted to leave their own mark at the top of this holy place.

Deeply perturbed that they would deface this beautiful monument to God, I nearly didn't take the photograph. As I look back at all I captured, I'm so glad I did take that picture, graffiti and all.

I have no idea who Veronika is or if it made her feel better to know that her name is floating high above the streets of Montmartre. What I do know is that she is a child of God, just as I am. And I shall extend to her grace, just as God extends His grace to me.