The Rt. Rev. Scott Mayer2011 Annual Diocesan Convention Sermon

St. Nicholas’ Church, Midland, TexasOctober 22, 2011

My mother gave me a timely gift for my birthday last month – a novel written by Elmer Keltonentitled “The Time it Never Rained.” As you might imagine, it’s set in 1950’s West Texas. Inthe Introduction Kelton writes the following about West Texas:

“Each new generation tends to forget – until it confronts the sobering reality – that dryness hasalways been the normal condition in the western half of the state. Wet years have been theexceptions. Walter Prescott Webb, in his classic “The Great Plains,” noted how the land changeswest of the 98 meridian, and how this has affected the people who live there, etching its marksth

upon their characters and impacting upon their culture. Traditionally it has taken a strong willed,individualistic breed to live west of that line, especially when that living is tied closely to the soil,as is the case with the rancher and the farmer. Those not strong enough either did not cross the lineor retreated after being bruised by the demands of that uncompromising land. Those who remainedbecame tough, resilient and almost militantly independent.”

Kelton adds, “Resistance to regulation may be stronger in drouth-prone West Texas than anywhere.This trait remains a puzzle to people in other areas, willing to trade their freedoms piecemeal forwhat appears to be a guarantee of security. They, perhaps, do not have this heritage of recurringstruggle for survival which every succeeding generation of West Texans has had to face, each inits own time.”

For some of us a certain pride wells up within us when we hear such a passage as that. Even thoseof us, like me, who never worked livestock nor worked the farm, take a certain pride that we comefrom such stock – that this accurate but romantic (at a distance) depiction of our home is in ourDNA.

Tough. Independent. Self-sufficient; no sense of entitlement. Strong-willed. Free to succeed;free to fail. There is much to admire about West Texas. And yet it’s also often the case that one’sstrengths are one’s weaknesses or challenges. And such challenges are the context for ministry inthis corner of God’s creation. For that matter, such challenges might be for some of us our owngrowing edges. Sometimes our qualities present our biggest challenges.

If, for example, one is determined to be self-sufficient, and pull up the proverbial boot straps, onemight be reluctant to admit they need help. If, for another example, one is proud to never oweanyone anything, they might be resistant to accept a completely free gift. If one is proud of theirrugged individualism, they might buy into the falsehood of the self-made man. None of thisapplies to anyone here, of course.

I would suggest that the story in today’s Gospel speaks to our particular context. It’s the story ofJesus teaching in the synagogue of his hometown, and the people say, “Where did this man get thiswisdom and these deeds of power? Is not this the carpenter’s son? Is not his mother called Mary? And are not his brothers James and Joseph and Simon and Judas?”

Now one reason this passage was chosen to be read on October 22, is that this is the day in the lifeof the Church we are celebrating St James of Jerusalem. And every reading, including the Acts ofthe Apostles, and First Corinthians, and Matthew make reference to James. And while I appreciate Matthew’s version of today’s story, I more prefer Luke’s version. Andbesides all that, it serves my purposes better for today’s sermon, which is kind of like that all-familiar move by preachers when we say, “This elephant reminds of a rhinoceros.” Today I wantto look at the same story, but I want to explore it through Luke’s lens.

As Luke tells the story, Jesus is reading from scripture in the synagogue back home in Nazareth.Evidently, he is commenting on a sacred text, teaching, perhaps preaching a little, as everyone isamazed at his words of grace – his gracious words. We don’t know his exact words, but they evokefrom the crowd amazement.

The people are proud. “Is not this Joseph’s son?” they say aloud, astonished at his brilliance, andhis insight, and his knowledge of God. He’s one of their own. Already, early in his ministry,Jesus’ reputation as a great teacher has spread. Perhaps by then, he’s performed a miracle or two.Luke doesn’t tell us. But Jesus is the hometown boy who is growing into greatness, and theyrecognize that, and they are proud of him, and they claim him as their own.And then things take a turn. Rather than gracefully accepting all this praise, rather than absorbingthe compliments, rather than basking in the adoration, Jesus practically becomes offensive. Hedeclares the brutal truth that all of their expressions of approval won’t keep Jesus from hisprophetic role of telling the truth. (I wonder if his abrupt response isn’t his personal reaction to sucha temptation.)

We don’t know. But we do know the potential of all that praise and adoration to keep someonecoming back for more, cultivating a need for approval; to keep someone from telling the hard truthabout things; and perhaps most pertinent to today’s story, to keep someone performing for theadoring public.

So Jesus interrupts all this praise by quoting scripture. He reminds them that God’s grace extendsbeyond the “chosen people of God,” and even to foreigners. He tells the story, right out of theirown book, about the time of famine, when God rescued ONE widow. Out of all the starvingwidows in Israel, God rescued a foreigner – someone OUTSIDE the chosen community of faith. And the same with a leper. Out of all the possibilities, only the Syrian leper was healed.

The nerve of Jesus! Not only bad manners, blowing off all these compliments, and not only usingtheir own sacred book to make a challenging point (nothing could make anyone madder), butchallenging the understanding that HIS people should get the benefits.

As we say, membership is supposed to have its privileges. WE want the miracles. WE want thehealings and exorcisms. WE want to hear the spiritual insights from the sacred scriptures. WE arethe chosen. We expect the benefits.

In today’s story Jesus encounters an adoring public in the synagogue. “Isn’t this Joseph’s son?” theyproudly exclaim. He’s one of US. He’s ours. Jesus encounters this adoring public who expectsto benefit – a public who feels entitled.

Entitlement: that’s a pretty loaded word these days, and I’m not even referring to governmententitlements. You hear someone express their lament, even their disgust, that those on welfarehave a sense of entitlement. It’s claimed that after habitually living off the state, they have a senseof entitlement – it’s owed to them.

But I wonder if it’s possible that a lot of us, maybe even most of us, have a sense of entitlementabout life. Certainly, the culture shapes such an attitude. Just for example, a few years ago muchwas written and reported about the so-called “angry white male.” Why was the white male angry?”Well, the white male was losing jobs to other races and nationalities and even to women (of allthings). All these foreigners migrating into our country, jobs being outsourced, and women leavingthe role of homemaking – “they’re taking our jobs!” – historically, our jobs. However painful it maybe to admit this, that’s a sense of entitlement.

If you scratch real deep – and some of us hide it better than others – most of us (maybe not all of us,but most) have certain expectations in life that by virtue of being an American citizen we feelentitled. The law even says we are entitled to some privileges we did not earn – just by being bornhere; just by benefitting from the sacrifice of our forebearers, or our parents, or communitybenefactors. We grow up entitled. Just for being born here, the law grants us certain privilegeswe did not earn. Entitled by our birth. Membership has its privileges.

That’s what Jesus encounters in the synagogue. The people of Nazareth assume certain privilegesfor themselves – by virtue of their kinship with Jesus, by virtue of their birth, by virtue of theirbelonging to the chosen community of faith.

And Jesus takes their scriptures, their Holy Bible, and uses it against them, reminding them of thetruth of their community of faith all along: God’s grace extends beyond the chosen. God’s graceextends to foreign lands, and foreign people. God’s grace extends to those who may not believein God the same way. And yes, you are chosen. We are chosen; not entitled, but chosen. Chosento be an agent of God’s grace in the world. Chosen for a purpose.

It’s impossible to be entitled to grace. Nothing could be more impossible. We cannot earn a gift. We cannot be “owed” a gift. Not by our birth. Not even by or baptism. Not by a profession offaith. Not by our work for the Church. Not by constant prayer. Not by our study of scripture. Notby worship. We cannot set up life so that we are entitled to God’s grace. God loves us too muchfor that. He’s not going to let us earn His love. He gives it to us.