For those unfamiliar with the word "sacrament," the sacraments are material and ritual practices of most Christian churches that Christians believe were instituted by Jesus, the most universal being baptism and the Lord's Supper (also known as Communion, the Eucharist and even "the Love Feast" for some Anabapists), although some Anabaptists include footwashing (which makes as much sense to me as any others) and Catholics and Orthodox Christians recognize 7 Sacraments. A common (though largely Catholic) definition of a sacrament is "an outward sign of an inward grace."
Many people today are emphasizing a "sacramental theology" that recognizes the possibility (maybe even the tendency) for God's presence to be recognized in a great multitude of mundane places, objects and circumstances (ie. "the sacrament of the present moment"). I think all of this has a great deal of merit.
Here's the thing: during the Reformation, Luther, Zwingli, Melancthon, Bullinger, Bucer, Calvin and obviously a great number of Catholic thinkers, all argued passionately about the nature of the Lord's Supper. Distinctively, all of the previous people thought it was okay to kill Anabaptists (and Anabaptists were willing to die) for their views on... baptism, obviously. Theologian Brian Gerrish has recently argued that the Eucharist, not predestination, was really the central concept in John Calvin's thought.
I understand why many people now see these arguments as petty, overly rationalized fights about things that are really rather mysterious. However, in my observations of many evangelical churches in the United States, the biggest issues regarding the sacraments at many (not all) churches have become logistical. How can we distribute some portion of grape juice and cracker to so many people, quickly and efficiently, so that we can get them to eat and drink in unison? Perhaps because of the logistical problems involved, many Protestant churches only partake of Communion once a month or even once a "quarter." Baptism involves fewer people (usually), but more liquid and wardrobe changes.
I really don't want to restart the sacrament "wars" that have divided Christians over the centuries, but if Christians believe that they should continue to practice the sacraments (as Christians have done since very early in the church's history), shouldn't our foremost question be "how do we imbue this practice with as much of the meaning it has held and can hold as our theology will allow?" rather than merely, "how do we pull this off, quickly and efficiently?"
Maybe theology is where the change needs to start. Christians need to embrace a theology that expands beyond human-brains-believing-things-attached-to-eyes-that-read-the-Bible-and-mouths-that-talk-about-it. And yet, Christians need a theology that is willing to contract and mark out certain times and spaces and objects as special and sacred for us (as a community) in a way that other things are not. It's entirely well and good for individual Christians to experience God in a multitude of settings, but not if those individual experiences negate participation in the community. We need a theology that goes beyond individualism and yet stops short of making everything generically holy and spiritual. A theology of the in-between.