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Sunday, June 6, 2004
Sermon: "Project a Living Christ"
Scripture: John 14:8-17
Reverend Larry Gerber

Keyboards are deleting cursive writing from the schoolroom, a loss we may come to regret. The discipline of learning to write gracefully can lead to more effective communication, just as the hard work of discipleship can create a deeper relationship with God. Our challenge is to be cursive — not cursory — in our obedience.

1. Do you recall the day you first learned to write in cursive?

Perhaps not. You probably don't remember when you learned to read either.

You may remember the process. You might remember life in first grade when you were taught to read, or life in third grade when you were taught to write in cursive. But you don't remember when reading and writing really "happened."

Not like learning to ride a bike. You're either pedaling like crazy and keeping your balance, or you're lying in a twisted heap with your ankles through the spokes. You might remember when you learned to ride a bike.

Back to cursive writing. The S had the bends in the right places, and the W rose and dropped wonderfully at the command of your tiny fingers clutching that big pencil. Then, beaming brightly, you unveiled the writing to your parents, who happily approved your advancing skills. It was a moment of victory to slant those letters precisely the way the teacher instructed and within the lines, too. Mastering cursive writing was one of those skills that marked a rite of passage; not only was your school teacher proud of you, better yet, writing in cursive clearly meant you were becoming grown up.

Now, if you are as old as I am, and have a natural bent to using your left hand to write with, you might very well remember when the teacher slapped your knuckles with the ruler, and told you to use your right hand. Thanks to my Mom and Dad, the teacher was told to leave me alone. They said that if I was more comfortable using my left hand, then I should be able to. I had perfect hand writing through the 8th grade, thanks to my parents, and my reluctant teachers. The rest is history, after I entered the 9th grade, and had to take notes, I began to write like a Dr. ..............

But cursive writing and the teaching of cursive is on the way out. Rachel Konrad, writing in The Denver Post (June 9, 2003), says that cursive writing is gradually being deleted as more and more students rely on keyboards for communication. Text messaging, instant messenger, e-mail: These are the skills that students are relying upon, and with that reliance has come a steady decline in handwriting skills.

So, cursive writing is disappearing. One could say, so what? Isn't digital communication better, easier and more efficient? Perhaps, but easier and more efficient is not always better, especially when it comes to developing character and building relationships. The question is: What happens when you gradually begin to lose skills that were once used to build character and demonstrate that a person was maturing because she was able to master a skill through careful practice? It is not surprising that along with the gradual disappearance of cursive writing has gone the habit of letter writing; a habit often called an art. So the culture loses cursive writing and no one notices, because in its place is faster, easier and efficient — the triune god of our time.

But while this god is wooing us night and day, Alan Wolfe, author of the Transformation of American Religion, comments that cursive writing is not the only thing that is gradually disappearing. A host of important religious concepts along with the moral practices that undergird them are also disappearing, and not only in secular culture but among many, if not most, congregations.

For example, over the last two generations, the notion of a Holy God whose love will not tolerate sin and to whom all lives are accountable has nearly disappeared. It has been replaced by a benign Being whose love winks at personal sins. This God is often described in the vaguely religious language of contemporary spirituality and defended by those who decry the punishing, grace-less God foisted upon the people by fearful religious institutions and the preachers who offer a poisonous brew of guilt and shame.

Against such a backdrop, who but the most fearful could possibly be against a God whose tolerance is so expansive that anyone can find a place regardless of moral habits?

Sin itself is a concept that depends upon a biblical moral universe of duties and obligations where people are accountable to one another and answerable to God. The concept has disappeared, rendered hopelessly quaint or even tacky, a sign of poor taste in public conversation, replaced by personal choices whose consequences are measured by their effects on one's sense of personal well-being, rather than a larger universe of moral obligations that have their foundation in a response to a righteous and just God.

As C.S. Lewis famously reminded readers in Mere Christianity, a fuzzy, tolerant God is a far distance from the God whose mercy and grace are amazingly profound for the simple reason that God despises immorality. Grace is meaningless when there is no sin to be forgiven. In the wake of this steady cultural trend to throw off oppressive moral codes, including those of institutional religion, people have also thrown off the notion of binding moral obligations that are nonnegotiable. We believe that whatever good we do, we do because we want to, not because we have any obligation to do good.

Under these conditions, where everything is optional, how shall Christians respond to the instructions of Jesus to keep his word? In his final conversation with the disciples, he repeatedly tells them that loving him and obeying his commandment belong together. Cutting against the grain, Jesus actually says that by our obedience we show our love for him. The very thing that many associate with feeling and personal choice — love — is what Jesus says his disciples are to do because he commands them to do it.

This kind of life requires hard work and practice. You could call it Cursive Obedience.

And it's not something you remember learning to do. It doesn't "happen." It's a learned process. It's a life. It's a lifestyle.

Remember how hard you had to work to learn to write in cursive? The purpose of all that practice was not just cruel punishment, but the ability to communicate well in writing. Without the practice, there is no fulfillment.

Likewise, to practice the commandment of Jesus in a cursory way, choosing if and when to obey him based upon our own inclinations, will never lead us to a deeper relationship with God where we know that peace that is promised. We don't like to link obedience to fulfillment; it seems graceless and stern. But in fact, those who live a life of obedience often testify to joy and peace.

Love is neither easy, fast nor efficient.

You need time. But then, you'll see that what matters is only love. That is what Jesus said to his disciples. Keep my commandment, love through thick and thin, day by day, year after year, and you will know the peace of God.

How do we obey Jesus' commandment to love over a lifetime without becoming grim or simply falling away? You simply do it in faith.

What a wonderfully hopeful way to imagine discipleship over the long haul: with obedient delight offering our hearts to God day by day. Knowing that we have sinned, and knowing that we can be forgiven, through Jesus our lord.

This obedient delight, says Jesus will bring you the peace that this world can never give.

Jesus said: My peace I give unto you, not as the world gives. This makes his peace unique. This makes us unique. We are forgiven, and we can receive his peace.
When we partake of the elements of Holy Communion, we are communing and communicating with God through Jesus. No one, other than a follower of Jesus can commune or communicate in this manner. We are special, because we have chosen the way through the cross. We are His disciples. We are special. We cannot allow our faith to go the way of cursive writing. We must bare witness to our specialness
Let us pray "The Prayer of Humble Access" in preparation for Holy Communion