A Moment of Grace

All human nature vigorously resists grace because grace changes us and the change is painful.

     Flannery O’Connor

We saw the movie 42 this week.  It’s the very powerful and inspiring story of the legendary Jackie Robinson, the first African-American to be allowed to play baseball in the major leagues.  The year was 1947.  And breaking the color barrier in this most American of sports was fraught with condemnation, hatred, discrimination, racism, threats and intense controversy. 

Jackie Robinson, against tremendous pressure to stop, persevered amidst the opposition, and proved to the world that he – and other talented African-Americans – had the right stuff and the gifts to play with the very best of them.  Not only did he prove his value and his worth.  But he did, most importantly, with amazing, abundant grace.

Grace.  It changes us.   It forces us to rethink.  It causes us to do differently what we had always done the same before.  It changes resentment to forgiveness.  Prejudice to acceptance.  Hatred to respect.  Dismissiveness to appreciation.  It changes attitudes, opinions and actions.

Grace.  It isn’t easy.  Change rarely is.  Sometimes it’s painful.  But always it is right and it is good.

Life is a journey of self-discovery.  Sometimes that discovery is hard and it hurts to see that old habits, old beliefs, old ways of life need to change for the better.  But this self-discovery is vital to our growth and our well-being.  It is essential to healthy relationships with ourselves and with others.  This self-discovery requires grace. 

 Jackie Robinson exhibited immense grace in his interaction with others.  He didn’t fight back at his enemies and detractors.  He did not bow to their levels of hatred, attack and insult.

His teammate, who in a public show of support near his hometown put his around Robinson in front of a hostile crowd to show them his acceptance of his new teammate, revealed grace.

The owner of Robinson’s team, the Brooklyn Dodgers, originally indicated that he merely hired Robinson to sell tickets.  But in a touching moment revealed a nobler motive for his hire when he confessed his guilt at not doing enough to stand up for an African-American teammate who was discriminated against when he was in college.  His was a confession of grace.

The minority of teammates who greeted and welcomed Robinson into the locker room with outstretched hands in front of the majority of teammates who blatantly didn’t want him there, displayed grace.

The teammate who originally wanted to be traded rather than play on a team with an African-American who changed his mind after coming to terms with a changing world demonstrated grace.

In 1947 it was painful to begin this racial change.  It is still painful in too many places today.  And so is so much other change that extends grace where grace hasn’t been extended before. 

It is a moment of grace when any of us undergo the challenges that really change us – to be more open, to be more honest, to be more forgiving, to be more tolerant, to be more generous, to be more understanding, to be more loving.

The summer of 1947 was a moment of grace in baseball, indeed.  But the summer of 1947 was a moment in time that advanced a movement of grace for the larger society. 

And every moment of grace, of any sort, large or small, public or private, can lead to transformed lives that change the world and make it more as it is meant to be.

Photo by Jose Francisco Morales on Unsplash