Episodes of Grace

An Episode of Grace is a collection of short stories by Linda McCullough Moore.  The title of the collection is apt.  Yes, one of the stories bears the same name, but really every story in the collection could have that title.

The stories present an interesting way to think about life. 

It seems obvious to think of our lives as akin to a novel.  There was a beginning, someday there will be an end, and we spend our lives working out the middle.  The events of our lives are all part of the larger story.

In those larger scale stories, however, there are those short stories, the small parts of our lives that could be taken out of the novel and presented as a whole and complete story unto themselves.  We all have these short stories; indeed when we tell people about the episodes in our lives, we are relating those short stories.  We have no real ability to relate the novel of our lives; we don’t yet know how it all turns out.

But, Moore points to yet another dimension of our lives.  The episodes.  Those brief moments, hardly noticeable, whose reflections ripple outward.  Among those moments are the episodes of grace; those moments when the burden of life is lifted ever so slightly by a passing comment or a stunning sunset.

Reading about those moments of grace, I had a shock of recognition.

One of the curious things about being a professor is that I say a lot of good-byes.  Every year, there is a whole set of students who are leaving Mount Holyoke.  Some of them I will never see again.  Sometimes a student comes back for a reunion or just visiting the campus, and we pick up right where we left off in the conversation.  Sometimes I get an e-mail out of the blue from a former student. (I always like those e-mails.)  Sometimes, I stay in regular contact with a student.

But, in every case, no matter which of those futures will materialize, there is that moment of good-bye. 

One result of all these relationships, really friendships, in which neither of us knows whether or when we will talk again is that there is a comment I hear frequently.  It is the sort of thing you don’t say to someone you know you will be seeing again.  It is what you say when someone is leaving and you know this may be the last chance you have to say it.  I cannot count the number of times a student has looked at me and said in a tone of deep gratitude, “I just want to thank for that time you said X to me.”

Here is the interesting thing: I don’t always remember saying X.  I remember talking with the student.  For some of them I remember having those long conversations which ramble all over the place.  Others, I only talked with once or twice when they were taking a class with me.  But, I don’t always remember the conversation in which I said X. 

It is a weird feeling.  Here is someone thanking me for saying something deeply meaningful, something which made her life a bit better, and I do not recall saying it.

I now know what to call those comments.  They are episodes of grace.  They are brief, not always memorable to the person saying them, but full of grace for the person hearing them.

We have all experienced these episodes of grace and we are grateful for them.  But, before reading Moore’s book, I had never really thought about being a creator of episodes of grace.

What would it look like to actively work at creating episodes of grace in the lives of others?  Interesting thought experiment.  Imagine living your life thinking that the conversations you are having may be the single most important conversation the person with whom you are talking will have this year or this decade.  Imagine that the comment you are about to make will be remembered in a decade by the other person.

If you think too much about that, it would be nearly impossible to have a conversation.  So, how do you cultivate a life where you are unconsciously providing those episodes of grace?

I don’t have the answer, but it is hard for me to escape the conclusion that this is the sort of thing I really should figure out.  The world could use more episodes of grace.