Amazing Grace

If this were Rome, Wis., in the heart of Picket Fences country, nobody would blink twice at the appearance of Hannah Miller (Patty Duke), a minister of unspecified denomination who is (1) a single mother of two, (2) a former nurse, (3) a former pill addict, and (4) the survivor of an overdose who, while on a hospital table, had a near-death vision of angels that inspired her new career. AMAZING GRACE (NBC, Saturdays, 8-9 p.m.) is proof that Rome wasn't built in a day -- and that on TV, God makes guest appearances in mysterious ways.

Set in a Pacific northwestern Everytown, this family drama -- a competitor for the attentions of the Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman crowd -- would appear to have more Murder, She Wrote than Fences in it. Like Murder's Jessica Fletcher (or, for that matter, Dr. Quinn), Hannah is counselor and social worker, concerned citizen and meddling do-gooder. Duke's got the manner for it, too: She's efficient and energetic, with empathetic eyes behind magnifying eyeglasses, and a face that's a symphony of compassion. She moves like a Cub Scout den mother.

But as in Fences, Hannah's neighbors and congregants are formulated to project just a bit more...soul. Regulars include Harry Kramer (Dan Lauria of The Wonder Years), a warm, lightly Jewish bachelor lawyer with an old thing for Hannah (Related to Seinfeld's Cosmo Kramer? Not a chance); Dominick Corso (Joe Spano of Hill Street Blues), an ornery but essentially decent cop and adversary of Harry's; and Arthur Sutherland (Sister Act II's Robin Gammell), a fuddy-duddy church elder uncomfortable with Hannah's history of drug abuse -- not to mention her coziness with celestial visions. At home, meanwhile, Hannah is raising two kids -- Marguerite Moreau as moody, teenage Jenny and Justin Garms as plucky little boy Brian. Add to that the erring, confused, and unfortunate who live in and around the nabe -- a woman who kidnapped her son after losing him in a custody battle, an elderly parishioner who wants to give all her money to a charismatic bells-and-whistles preacher (Burt Reynolds in a nifty piece of casting) -- and you can see how Hannah's gonna have her hands full.

Now, I love seeing God on television. The more spiritual and religious practice is an everyday part of life in dramatic (or even comedic) plots, the better. Heck, all of the most affecting TV shows I can think of have had, as their underpinning, a religious context, whether it's Joel Fleischman's Judaism in Northern Exposure; the Catholicism of Frank Pembleton, John Kelly, and Mike Logan in Homicide, NYPD Blue, and Law & Order, respectively; the ethical quandaries faced by the doctors of ER and Chicago Hope; or D.J.'s questions about religion on Roseanne. Television is ahead of all other entertainment in effectively demonstrating the diversity of religious experience in America.

But on Amazing Grace, the Rev. Hannah Miller is so nondenominational, she hardly needs that degree in divinity. Sure, she prays to God: ''How'm I doin'?'' she asks on a walk in the woods. But for all its tolerance of character quirks, Grace plays it too safe, spooling dialogue that sounds as if it's been through a blender. Duke's minister has about as much spiritual resonance as Sister Bertrille in The Flying Nun. What a waste of a good character. At least Sally Field got to experience the miracle of flight. C+