Effective Prayer
Hanover UCC
Richard R. Crocker
July 25, 2010
Scripture: Genesis 18:20-32; Luke 11:1-13
You may have heard this joke. Forgive me if you have.
A man was driving down the street in a sweat because he had an important meeting and couldn’t find a parking place. Looking up to heaven, he said, “Lord, please help me find a parking place. If you do, I’ll go to church every Sunday and I‘ll give up alcohol, I promise. Suddenly, a parking place appeared. The man looked up again and said, "Never mind. I found one.”
This sermon is about prayer. Prayer is something that all of us know about and that many of us practice. Yet there is a great deal of confusion among religious people about the efficacy of prayer, about its purpose and its practice. I hope this sermon will help you think about prayer more clearly and perhaps value it more dearly.
Monday, July 26, 2010
The Most Important Thing - Richard Crocker
The Most Important Thing
Hanover UCC
Richard R. Crocker
July 18, 2010
Amos 8:1-12, Luke 10:38-42
Amos was not fit for polite society. Like many prophets, he was erratic, irritating, and disturbing. Some would have called him a crazy man; others called him a troublemaker; others a traitor. Yet, despite his being so politically incorrect, so troublesome and irritating, so infuriating and so uncharming, he was judged, by the later compilers of the Hebrew scriptures, to have been a true prophet, one whose words were worthy of preservation for all time, because he spoke the truth. He told a nation that thought it was prosperous and thriving that it was really putrid and dying. He told a people who were confident in their wealth that they would lose everything. He told people who ignored and exploited the poor that their behavior would lead them to ruin. Those words were hard to take then, and they are hard to take now.
Hanover UCC
Richard R. Crocker
July 18, 2010
Amos 8:1-12, Luke 10:38-42
Amos was not fit for polite society. Like many prophets, he was erratic, irritating, and disturbing. Some would have called him a crazy man; others called him a troublemaker; others a traitor. Yet, despite his being so politically incorrect, so troublesome and irritating, so infuriating and so uncharming, he was judged, by the later compilers of the Hebrew scriptures, to have been a true prophet, one whose words were worthy of preservation for all time, because he spoke the truth. He told a nation that thought it was prosperous and thriving that it was really putrid and dying. He told a people who were confident in their wealth that they would lose everything. He told people who ignored and exploited the poor that their behavior would lead them to ruin. Those words were hard to take then, and they are hard to take now.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Reflection on the Good Samaritan - Richard Crocker
New eyes, new ears
Our Savior Lutheran Church
Richard R. Crocker
July 11, 2010
Luke 10:25-37, Deuteronomy 30:9-14; Psalm 25:1-10; Colossians 1:1-14
Probably most of us have heard the story of the good Samaritan 100 times at least, and we have listened to many sermons on the subject. Perhaps there are some in the congregation hearing it for the first time. It would be nice if this were true. But I am assuming that all of you, like me, suffer from the problem of over familiarity. We do not really listen to the story because we have heard it so often, and we think we know what it means. So as soon as the scripture lesson starts, we may tune out. There is nothing new here for us. Only an exhortation. We listen, and we carry away from the story an admonition to “go and do likewise.’ And that admonition means that we are supposed to be like the Samaritan and be attentive to the needs of anyone we encounter – especially people we are supposed to dislike. Well, that message doesn’t gain much traction in our lives, does it? Help out anyone in need – that’s what it means to be a neighbor, right? Isn’t that what we take away? And don’t we try to do that by giving money to our church and to other charitable organizations – and by having the Friday night community dinners and giving to Oxfam and UNICEF etc? Now I would not for a minute discourage those charitable activities, but I have discovered after listening to the story of the good Samaritan for many years that I have been hearing it wrongly. Perhaps you have too.
Our Savior Lutheran Church
Richard R. Crocker
July 11, 2010
Luke 10:25-37, Deuteronomy 30:9-14; Psalm 25:1-10; Colossians 1:1-14
Probably most of us have heard the story of the good Samaritan 100 times at least, and we have listened to many sermons on the subject. Perhaps there are some in the congregation hearing it for the first time. It would be nice if this were true. But I am assuming that all of you, like me, suffer from the problem of over familiarity. We do not really listen to the story because we have heard it so often, and we think we know what it means. So as soon as the scripture lesson starts, we may tune out. There is nothing new here for us. Only an exhortation. We listen, and we carry away from the story an admonition to “go and do likewise.’ And that admonition means that we are supposed to be like the Samaritan and be attentive to the needs of anyone we encounter – especially people we are supposed to dislike. Well, that message doesn’t gain much traction in our lives, does it? Help out anyone in need – that’s what it means to be a neighbor, right? Isn’t that what we take away? And don’t we try to do that by giving money to our church and to other charitable organizations – and by having the Friday night community dinners and giving to Oxfam and UNICEF etc? Now I would not for a minute discourage those charitable activities, but I have discovered after listening to the story of the good Samaritan for many years that I have been hearing it wrongly. Perhaps you have too.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
"Ground Zero Mosque"
by Kurt Nelson
I'm beginning to suspect my reluctance to post more frequently has less to do with lack of time and effort and more to do with lack of desire to publish unfinished thoughts. But I'm trying. I really am.
I find my thoughts turning frequently in recent days and months, to our public conversation surround the so-called "Ground Zero Mosque." (one take or another or yet another). Public demonstrations and furious blog posts have cropped up all over, and Peter King and Rick Lazio have decided to invest their political energy in opposition to the construction of this Islamic Community Center. As far as I can tell, there's little to debate from a policy standpoint. Precedent would suggest that the first amendment, though it appeals directly only to Congress, would apply, and we would not "prohibit the free expression" of this religious community. (It should be noted that NYC officials have, so far, admirably supported and approved the effort.) But the vociferous backlash remains, and is, in my opinion, drowning thoughtful voices of support.
But I'm moved and struck by a couple of questions which more directly relate to my work. I take great pride in the Dartmouth students I work with. I trust that they have had meaningful experiences of religious and inter-religious community, have delved more deeply and thoughtfully into their own senses of faith, spirituality, meaning and purpose. But I wonder how well we (or I) have prepared and educated them to take on the challenges of religious difference in the world directly? To what extent have we developed 'religious literacy' or 'interfaith understanding' as a goal our our liberal arts education? Are we building a movement that is prepared to take on the next religious conflict as they enter their careers and lives?
This is, no doubt, an emotional issue for those who lived through the attacks on the World Trade Center. And without meaningful education and contact with members of the world's religious traditions, I might have been swayed by those who claim that they will be willing to allow a Mosque on the sacred Ground Zero, when churches are allowed at Mecca. But it is our collective job to remind the country that it is precisely our adherence to religious freedom (and press, and expression, and many others) which makes us a great, pluralist nation, and give us countless opportunities not afforded elsewhere.
No doubt, meaningful steps have been taken, but there's much more to do. This is a goal not just for those who have an interest in multi-faith work, but is a value we must seek to promote for all people - Christians, Jews, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, Baha'is, Atheists, Agnostics, Seekers, and everything and anything else.
Until we do, I suspect a good portion of the country will remain convinced that the "they" that attacked the Twin Towers are the same "they" that are seeking to building a Mosque on sacred American ground.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mjGJPPRD3u0&feature=player_embedded
(Viewer Discretion Advised)
I'm beginning to suspect my reluctance to post more frequently has less to do with lack of time and effort and more to do with lack of desire to publish unfinished thoughts. But I'm trying. I really am.
I find my thoughts turning frequently in recent days and months, to our public conversation surround the so-called "Ground Zero Mosque." (one take or another or yet another). Public demonstrations and furious blog posts have cropped up all over, and Peter King and Rick Lazio have decided to invest their political energy in opposition to the construction of this Islamic Community Center. As far as I can tell, there's little to debate from a policy standpoint. Precedent would suggest that the first amendment, though it appeals directly only to Congress, would apply, and we would not "prohibit the free expression" of this religious community. (It should be noted that NYC officials have, so far, admirably supported and approved the effort.) But the vociferous backlash remains, and is, in my opinion, drowning thoughtful voices of support.
But I'm moved and struck by a couple of questions which more directly relate to my work. I take great pride in the Dartmouth students I work with. I trust that they have had meaningful experiences of religious and inter-religious community, have delved more deeply and thoughtfully into their own senses of faith, spirituality, meaning and purpose. But I wonder how well we (or I) have prepared and educated them to take on the challenges of religious difference in the world directly? To what extent have we developed 'religious literacy' or 'interfaith understanding' as a goal our our liberal arts education? Are we building a movement that is prepared to take on the next religious conflict as they enter their careers and lives?
This is, no doubt, an emotional issue for those who lived through the attacks on the World Trade Center. And without meaningful education and contact with members of the world's religious traditions, I might have been swayed by those who claim that they will be willing to allow a Mosque on the sacred Ground Zero, when churches are allowed at Mecca. But it is our collective job to remind the country that it is precisely our adherence to religious freedom (and press, and expression, and many others) which makes us a great, pluralist nation, and give us countless opportunities not afforded elsewhere.
No doubt, meaningful steps have been taken, but there's much more to do. This is a goal not just for those who have an interest in multi-faith work, but is a value we must seek to promote for all people - Christians, Jews, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, Baha'is, Atheists, Agnostics, Seekers, and everything and anything else.
Until we do, I suspect a good portion of the country will remain convinced that the "they" that attacked the Twin Towers are the same "they" that are seeking to building a Mosque on sacred American ground.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mjGJPPRD3u0&feature=player_embedded
(Viewer Discretion Advised)
Monday, July 19, 2010
CROSS fellow
Jessica Krug, of the class of 2011, is spending the summer in Kenya, working for an orphanage as a CROSS fellow through the Tucker Foundation. Her reflections are worth a look:
http://lightstohome.wordpress.com/2010/06/23/light-of-nairobi/
http://lightstohome.wordpress.com/2010/07/03/light-of-the-village/
http://lightstohome.wordpress.com/2010/07/17/light-of-sunset/
http://lightstohome.wordpress.com/2010/06/23/light-of-nairobi/
http://lightstohome.wordpress.com/2010/07/03/light-of-the-village/
http://lightstohome.wordpress.com/2010/07/17/light-of-sunset/
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
paradoxes
by Kurt Nelson
As I sit in my 95 degree office in normally-frigid Northern New England, I find myself reflecting on three small paradoxes in my current life. (Note: they may be too small to be paradoxes. Perhaps ironies, or simply silly things that I've noticed recently.)
The first is, of course, that I've never been so hot as I am this week. In warmer climates, we're better prepared for a week if 95 degree + temperatures. But here in the snowy hills of New Hampshire, we simply bake in our homes. In our offices. Staring listlessly and trying our best to carry on normally.
The second: I've recently become the car commuter in my family, while my wife now walks to her work. And I've never been so frustrated with traffic as in this small town. Not on the interchange between I-91 and I-95 in New Haven, CT, which I don't think has ever been clear. Not on the Beltway around Washington DC. Nothing compares to waiting for minutes on end to get past the 3 lights in Hanover. Pedestrians crossing against lights. People stopping to chat. Too many cars in too little space. Where are they all going?
And finally, and (hopefully) most significant, I was recently told by a faculty member who teaches about religion that he has "no patience for piety." I suspect it was meant to be a controversial statement, but I found myself empathizing to a certain degree. Don't get me wrong, I have plenty of patience for piety. But I hardly see piety as the root or point of my work. I'm left with clear images of wealthy scribes making public donations, and of the hollow, public prayers of politicians. I'm certainly more interested in what faith and religion and belief mean for people than what they look like.
Perhaps this is what we're all after - scholars, preachers and teachers of religion. But my particular hope for inter-religious work rests in our ability to move past the surface and delve more deeply with one another into questioning the source, meaning and value of our traditions, practices, values and ethics.
As I sit in my 95 degree office in normally-frigid Northern New England, I find myself reflecting on three small paradoxes in my current life. (Note: they may be too small to be paradoxes. Perhaps ironies, or simply silly things that I've noticed recently.)
The first is, of course, that I've never been so hot as I am this week. In warmer climates, we're better prepared for a week if 95 degree + temperatures. But here in the snowy hills of New Hampshire, we simply bake in our homes. In our offices. Staring listlessly and trying our best to carry on normally.
The second: I've recently become the car commuter in my family, while my wife now walks to her work. And I've never been so frustrated with traffic as in this small town. Not on the interchange between I-91 and I-95 in New Haven, CT, which I don't think has ever been clear. Not on the Beltway around Washington DC. Nothing compares to waiting for minutes on end to get past the 3 lights in Hanover. Pedestrians crossing against lights. People stopping to chat. Too many cars in too little space. Where are they all going?
And finally, and (hopefully) most significant, I was recently told by a faculty member who teaches about religion that he has "no patience for piety." I suspect it was meant to be a controversial statement, but I found myself empathizing to a certain degree. Don't get me wrong, I have plenty of patience for piety. But I hardly see piety as the root or point of my work. I'm left with clear images of wealthy scribes making public donations, and of the hollow, public prayers of politicians. I'm certainly more interested in what faith and religion and belief mean for people than what they look like.
Perhaps this is what we're all after - scholars, preachers and teachers of religion. But my particular hope for inter-religious work rests in our ability to move past the surface and delve more deeply with one another into questioning the source, meaning and value of our traditions, practices, values and ethics.
Monday, June 7, 2010
Final Vespers Sermon - The World Is Not Fine.
by Kurt Nelson
My final reflection on term-long discussion of "The Meaning of the Resurrection."
My final reflection on term-long discussion of "The Meaning of the Resurrection."
I've long pondered the meaning of the resurrection this term,
as I took in our broad ranging reflections so far.
We've heard about Love and joy, and sainthood.
Literary theory and theology of all kinds.
I decided that my closing sermon would have a fairly simple thesis:
The world is not fine,
but neither is it hopeless.
The world is full of sin.
That is, it's full of war and inequality and injustice and disaster.
And our actions,
yours and mine,
contribute to its troubles.
We can thus not appreciate the meaning of the resurrection,
until we appreciate the meaning of the crucifixion-
appreciate what it teaches us about ourselves and the world.
These two events are inextricably bound
and they teach us together,
Now, I'm wired such that conversations
with people who speak a different language if faith than I,
are uniquely helpful and clarifying.
My faith, and experience of faith,
are perhaps uniquely formed by my consistent conversations with non-religious folk.
Maybe it's because of my own lengthy sense of estrangement from religion.
Or maybe due to some deep-seated evangelical desire.
But mostly it's because of their consistently simple and biting questions and comments
about the life of faith, which come from my conversations with non-believers.
And as I ponder the meaning of the resurrection,
in my own life,
I am left to think as much,
about my conversations with non-believers,
than of sermons, and Easters, and bible-studies growing up.
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