Showing posts with label dartmouth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dartmouth. Show all posts

Monday, March 28, 2016

What Happened on Easter

Richard R. Crocker
Church of Christ at Dartmouth College
Easter Sunday
March 28, 2016

What Happened on Easter
What Happens on Easter


All of you, I am sure, are familiar with the Easter story. Jesus, the Christ, rose from the dead. That is what we celebrate. But what do we really know about what happened? I want to make two assertions. First, we as Christians cannot claim to know more than we know. And, second, we as Christians cannot claim to know less than we know.

What actually happened on Easter? The only accounts we have about what happened on what we now call Easter Day are in the Bible, in the Gospels. There was no news story published in The Jerusalem Times! And although the four gospels all assert that Christ rose from the dead, the details are quite different.

All the gospels tell us that Jesus was crucified, and that his body was put in a tomb, which was sealed with a large stone. But then, the stories differ. All four gospels say that Mary Magdalen went to the tomb early in the morning. She is the only person so mentioned in all four gospel accounts. But John says that she went alone; Mathew says she was accompanied by “the other Mary”; Mark says she was accompanied by Mary the mother of James and Salome; Luke says she was accompanied by Mary the mother of James, Joana, and other unnamed women.

What they reportedly saw varies. John says that Mary Magdalen saw a young man, who she first thought was the gardener, but who was in fact Jesus himself. Matthew says there was an earthquake, and the two women saw an angel “descending from heaven”, ”whose appearance was like lightning, and his clothing as white as snow”.  And then they saw Jesus himself, who said “Greetings!” Mark says ”they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side” of the tomb. Luke says they saw “two men in dazzling clothes.”

 In each story, the woman, or the women, received a message from the young man, or the angel, or the angels – but the messages vary.

In Mark, the angel says: “Do not be alarmed, you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place where they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.” And the women, afraid, fled and told no one.

In Matthew, the risen Jesus himself tells the women to go and tell the disciples that he will see them in Galilee. The women delivered the message, and the disciples then left for Galilee.

In Luke, the men in dazzling clothes asked the women, “Why do you look for the living among the dead?” and told them, “He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.” So the women went and told the disciples, who did not believe them, except for Peter, who got up and ran to the tomb, where he saw only the cloths in which Jesus had been buried.

In John, after he called her name, Mary Magdalen recognized  that the young man, whom she thought was the gardener, was in fact Jesus,  and she heard Jesus himself say: “Do not hold on to me, because I have not ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them ‘I am ascending to my father and your Father, to my God and your God.’” Which Mary Magdalen did. And the frightened disciples, except Thomas, huddled in the upper room in Jerusalem, where we remember that Jesus himself appeared to them on Easter night.

My point in going through these stories is to show that we really do not know exactly what happened. The stories vary; the details are significantly different, and the substance of the story – that Jesus rose from the dead - is beyond comprehension. It is, perhaps, a mark of authenticity that these stories do not agree in all details. When everyone tells a story the same way, we know that they have probably been coached. These stories reflect different voices. The only significant point of agreement is that when Mary Magdalen, and possibly some other women, (and remember that they all were women), went to the tomb early on Easter morning, they did not find the body of Jesus, and they all reported extraordinary visions or encounters. We don’t even know much about Mary Magdalen. Legends have grown up about her, but the only thing the gospels tell us is that one of them, Luke, reports that Jesus had healed her.  She apparently became very devoted to him. Matthew, Mark, and John report that she stood by his cross while he was crucified, and they all report that she went to the tomb on Easter morning. She is sometimes called the “apostle to the apostles” because she carried the good news to his disciples, Some scholars have even speculated that she was herself a disciple, even perhaps the unnamed “disciple whom Jesus loved.” But that is all speculation. We do not know.

And so, when we talk about what happened at Easter, we cannot claim to know more than we know. What exactly happened is a mystery, and the point of a mystery is that we do not know, we cannot explain it. If the writers of the gospels cannot explain it, neither can we.

But if we as Christians cannot claim to know more than we know, we also cannot claim to know less than we know – because we do know a great deal. And what we know does make all the difference.

What do we know. We know that whatever happened on Easter was so powerful that it not only transformed the lives of his friends and disciples, but led them to be willing to die for what they knew. We know that Jesus’s disciples - not only the 11, but his women friends, his cousins, his family – came to believe that Jesus had risen from the dead. They didn’t know exactly how, either, but some of them later claimed that they had seen the risen Lord. And these claims were not made casually, as a matter of rumor; they were made openly, definitely, and sometimes defiantly. Peter, who had denied that he knew Jesus only three days before, later was himself crucified for his testimony that Jesus had risen from the dead. We do not know how many early disciples testified to the truth of their belief by giving up their lives, but we do know that many did. And of course we have the testimony of Paul, who encountered the risen Lord in what was surely a vision, but a vision so powerful that it totally changed his life, and led Paul also to imprisonment and execution. This we know. It is not a matter of speculation. It is a matter of fact.

During the last few centuries, some skeptics have tried to discredit these testimonies by saying the story of the resurrection was a hoax, based either on a plot to steal the body of Jesus and claim that he was resurrected, or on hallucinations.  Such skepticism, for me, fades in the face of the facts that we know: disciples experienced imprisonment, torture, and execution. Would they do that to perpetuate a hoax or a delusion?

Consider the testimony of Paul, which we read earlier, but which we should listen to more carefully now, “For I handed on to you as of first importance what I in turn had received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the scriptures, and that he was buried, and that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas (Peter), then to the twelve. The he appeared to more than five hundred brothers and sisters at one time, most of whom are still alive, though some have died. Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles. Last of all, as to one untimely born, he appeared unto me.”

Paul’s account here is different even from the account in the gospels -  but remember, Paul had not read the gospels. They had not been written when he wrote his letters. But he had received the stories, the stories on which some people whom  Paul himself had been persecuting were betting their lives.

So we know for certain that what happened on Easter caused many people not only to believe it, but to bet their lives on it, to live for its truth, and to die for its truth. That is what we know. We cannot claim to know less than we know.

We also know that the meaning of Easter has not yet been fully understood. We are slow disciples. We know that, in addition to proclaiming the love of God, and the power of the risen Christ, as one who has experienced and transcended torture and violence and death, we know that Christians have sometimes - indeed, far too many times – have inflicted torture and violence and death on others.  This is a sad but undeniable fact. We cannot claim to know less than we know.

But we also know, beyond dispute, that people, many people, thousands of people, millions of people have gathered on every Easter Day for almost 2000 years to proclaim their hope, their faith, their belief in the mystery of Christ’s resurrection, the victory of the crucified one. In good times and bad, wartime and peace time, in youth and in age, among admirable people and sometimes among unadmirable people, the faith has endured. We know this, don’t we, even if we know nothing else. That itself is miracle.

And we are part of that miracle today. Some of us, some of you, may be, like Thomas, doubters. You have heard the testimony, but you cannot fully believe it. You are not like the apostles, who saw the resurrected Christ. You are not like Paul, who was stunned into blindness by a vision of the resurrected Christ. You are still, however, part of the  throngs who have heard the  word, and whose life is sustained by the possibility, the hope, the faith that God has shown us that death does not win, that power does not prevail over goodness, that our suffering, whatever it may be, is somehow redeemed in the crucified but risen Lord. You are among those who yearn and work for the day when, as promised in Isaiah, there will be an end to torture and violence and disease and war, and “they shall not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain.” To the extent that the story touches your heart and finds a place in it, you are also part of the miracle. We do not know everything about what happened on Easter, 2000 years ago. But we do know what happens on Easter, right now.


We cannot claim to know more than we know. But we also cannot claim to know less than we know. And what we do know makes all the difference in the world. Amen.

Easter Prayer March 27, 2016

Almighty God, in Jesus Christ, the resurrected one, you have conquered the power of death, cruelty, violence, and despair, and you have called us to follow him, in faith. We pray, O Resurrected One, strengthen our faith:

In a world where violence and hatred are resurgent,
we pray, O resurrected one, Strengthen our faith.

For a world in which many live in poverty, with no access to the riches around them; and where many a, driven from their homes, are in search of refuge;
we pray, O resurrected one, Strengthen our faith.

For those facing the trials of loneliness, disease, and despair; for loved ones who have died, and those of us who are approaching our own deaths,
we pray, O resurrected one, Strengthen our faith.

For our families, whose lives we value more than our own, but whom we know we cannot completely protect.
we pray, O resurrected one, Strengthen our faith.

For those imprisoned, justly or unjustly, and for those who are imprisoned by addiction.
we pray, O resurrected one, Strengthen our faith.

For the church, for all its ministers and members, that we may more boldly follow in your way,
we pray, O resurrected one, Strengthen our faith.

For ourselves, in the trials we face, the doubts that paralyze us, and the false gods in which we so often put our trust;
we pray, O resurrected one, Strengthen our faith.

Give us grace¸ we pray, to follow in the way of the Resurrected One, who taught us to pray:

Our Father


Tuesday, May 21, 2013

"First and Last' - Richard R. Crocker



First and Last
Richard R. Crocker
Rollins Chapel
Dartmouth College
May 19, 2013
Mark 10:17-31

            Today is Pentecost – the Jewish celebration of the gift of law, and the Christian celebration of the gift of the Holy Spirit. Today also marks my last “sermon” in Rollins Chapel as College Chaplain at Dartmouth. Some of you here today have never been to chapel before. Thank you for coming. Others are among the few who have been regular chapel attenders. Your presence today is especially valued. We have been thinking this term about “the good life” – a subject that I will address today more implicitly than explicitly.

            When I came to Dartmouth as College Chaplain ten and a half years ago, there were no regular college-sponsored worship services in Rollins Chapel, and there had not been for many years. There were occasional services, but no weekly ones. I did not immediately start such a service, since all previous chaplains and Tucker deans had failed in this task, but after a few months, I decided that I would try again. I would like to share with you a few words that I spoke at that first service, in October 2003:


No matter how much we might like to reinterpret the past, it is an undeniable fact that Dartmouth College began as an effort to train Christian ministers to preach the gospel in the wilderness. For some people, this fact is wonderful. For others, it is embarrassing. But it is nonetheless a fact. Just a fact. For 156 years – until 1925 - gathering for worship was an essential part of Dartmouth College life. That is why we have this building - built in 1885 to hold the entire college. It is why we have our college motto (Vox clamantis in deserto). It is why we have a history of ministerial college presidents, the last of whom was William Jewett Tucker. 


There are some people who will welcome this new chapel service. It is something they have hoped and longed for. Others will oppose it because it seems to them a retrogressive way of thinking, an anachronistic throwback to Dartmouth's sometimes embarrassing history. Most will take neither view. They will not even notice it, or if they do notice it, they will view it with the same indifference with which they might view the daily tea parties in Sanborn House.

My perspective, obviously, is different. I think this gathering is very important. I am a preacher, employed by Dartmouth College to stand in a line of continuity with its founders. The gospel I proclaim is a chastened one, to be sure. I, like you, am aware of the errors and arrogance of Christian proclamation here in this wilderness and elsewhere. None of us, in ignorance, is entitled to condemn anyone's sincere convictions, nor to exclude any perspective from the college discussion. But I also know that to have any conviction at all in our time makes one vulnerable to the charge of "bias" or "close-mindedness". Yet to live without any convictions is, I believe, impossible. I live with that tension, and so do some of you. It is a tension that I do not choose to abandon, or to resolve by sinking into relativism.

We live in a culture that sometimes seduces us with false and shallow promises based finally upon the assertion that nothing really matters. In such a wilderness, we are called to remember who we are. That is what I want us to do in these weekly services. We will meet to think together about who we really are. We will meet in this place that reminds us - whoever we are, we are belong to God. And that is both the oldest and newest, the truest and most controversial, word I can say. Amen”


Perhaps I should stop there. Perhaps that is all there is to say. But I will not. The chapel light that we lit ten years ago has not been extinguished. Though congregations have fluctuated between small and smaller, there has never been a service when no one showed up. I was right in saying that the service would be greeted by most people with absolute indifference, but I was also right in saying that it would be meaningful for some. Certainly it has been for me.

Throughout these years, there has been one text to which I have repeatedly returned: it is the text that we read today. I have returned to it because I have come to see it as the quintessential Dartmouth story – the story that everyone at Dartmouth can relate to, whether they know it or not. And so I return to it today.

             
We speak a great deal at Dartmouth about diversity. And that is an important thing to talk about. We need to realize, respect and celebrate the different experiences, backgrounds, cultures, talents, and convictions that people bring to Dartmouth. Yet, amid this diversity, I have come to realize that there is one trait that is shared by almost every student and faculty member, as well as some of the staff, at Dartmouth.

That trait, of course, is ambition. Every student who comes to Dartmouth is ambitious - achievement oriented, wanting to excel. It is the sine qua non for admission. Can you imagine an admissions essay that discusses one's desire not to achieve? Or that documents one's lack of success? And of course the same is true for faculty. And some staff. We all are ambitious, high achieving people.

So what's wrong with that? In many ways, of course, nothing is wrong with it. It is exciting to be surrounded by people who are highly motivated to achieve. This is the very fuel of our community. It is one of the things that makes Dartmouth a good place to be. It is why this passage, recorded in all three synoptic gospels, speaks so powerfully to us who live here. Nothing could be more ambitious than to want eternal life. And the questioner - sometimes described as a rich young ruler - is a very appealing person. He is a serious questioner. He wants to do the right thing. He has been good all his life - got good grades, high scores on his SATs, was involved in lots of extracurriculars, was an officer in youth group and added a lot of community service to his resume as well. I read the account from Mark’s gospel. Matthew's is almost identical - except for one detail. In Matthew, Jesus  simply says to the questioner "You lack one thing." In Mark, we are told "Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, "You lack one thing."

Jesus loved him. Ambitious people - especially people who are ambitious to be exceptionally good - are often very appealing and lovable. I have certainly found that to be the case at Dartmouth. But at the same time, their ambition can be an obstacle to achieving the very thing they really want.

The very thing they really want. Now I am speaking to you as one of you. I do not stand before you as a representative of perfect humility. I am very much part of the culture of ambition that I am describing. And therefore I realize what a radical challenge is posed by Jesus' words - especially the final words ' "But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first." It's a reversal of our way of thinking, isn't it? Think of what would happen at Dartmouth is we tried to fill our campus with students who had been last in their class. It's a stupid idea, isn't it? Much of what Jesus says strikes us as counter to our normal way of thinking. But it also just stays with us - like this passage has stayed with me - challenging us to think a different way – to ask: “What am I ambitious for? What do I really want? And wil my ambition really take me there?”

How then do we get beyond ambition? (That of course is itself another kind of ambition, the ambition to get beyond ambition - so we see the nature of the difficulty). This is not a question that I can answer easily. But I will make a suggestion. Transforming experiences. Students talk to me, sometimes, about transforming experiences. Sometimes they happen in a classroom, when we encounter a profoundly unsettling idea. Or they happen when we place ourselves in a position where we are powerless and afraid like taking a leave term to work in an orphanage in Morocco, or a prison, or an urban school. Or they happen when we confront utter failure. These experiences can truly reverse our priorities and  preconceived notions. And when they do, we get a glimpse about what it means for the first to be last, and the last to be first. I think of that man in today’s text, so talented, so ambitious, who encountered Jesus, but who chose financial consulting.

            What we are talking about, on Pentecost, is receiving a new spirit. It changes our ambitions. We seek to become teachers rather than tycoons, protestors rather than protectors of the status quo, contributors rather than consumers. Sometimes such changes happen right here, in these chapel services– which is why I hope that they will never end.

i

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Opening Convocation Prayer - Richard Crocker

Richard Crocker, College Chaplain
Opening Convocation Prayer
Dartmouth College
September 10, 2012



God of Truth and Hope:
We are here to seek truth.
Sustain us in that task.

Help us not to be distracted by trivia,
or the fickle tyranny of college rankings,
or the foolishness of harmful traditions,
or illusions of self-importance.
Sustain our search for truth.

And sustain our hope
that this search is a human blessing,
not to be feared, but embraced with joy and perseverance,
and that it will lead us to a better life,
not for some, but for all.
Sustain us, O God of truth and hope,
in our common life,
this year and always.
Amen.