Sermon given at the 10.30am service, Christ Church Downend, Sunday February 10th, 2013. The Bible reading is Luke 9: 28-36. More sermons and talks at http://www.social-statistics.org/?cat=22
1. Jesus
in
a
new
light
(Sermon
given
at
the
10.30am
service,
Christ
Church
Downend,
Sunday
February
10th,
2013.
The
Bible
reading
is
Luke
9:
28-‐36).
So
poor
old
Richard
III.
Found
buried
under
a
car
park
in
Leicester.
I
can
only
presume
he
had
paid
for
long
stay
parking.
Of
course,
some
may
argue
that
it
is
strangely
apt
for
someone
who
is
sometimes
described
as
Britain’s
most
reviled
monarch
and
alleged
to
have
murdered
his
two
young
nephews.
Then
again,
historians
have
reminded
us
that
the
ideas
we
have
of
King
Richard
are
largely
thanks
to
William
Shakespeare
and
to
sources
of
information
written
by
people
who
did
not
much
care
for
Richard
and
had
cause
to
portray
him
in
a
partisan
and
distorted
way.
Those
historians
have
challenged
us
to
see
Richard
in
a
new
light.
Now,
I
did
make
a
brief
effort
to
determine
the
origin
of
that
phrase
–
“to
see
in
a
new
light”.
To
be
honest,
I
didn’t
try
very
hard
and
I
did
not
get
very
far.
It
does,
however,
seem
to
have
religious
connotations,
deriving
perhaps
from
around
the
1600s.
I
wonder
if
at
least
part
of
its
meaning
derives
from
the
events
read
to
us
in
today’s
Gospel
reading,
the
account
of
Jesus’
transfiguration.
Imagine
the
scene.
You
are
one
of
Peter,
James
or
John,
and,
quite
frankly
you
are
exhausted.
Why
are
you
exhausted?
Perhaps
because
Jesus
has
recently
sent
you
out
to
travel
from
village
to
village
to
preach
the
kingdom
of
God
and
to
heal
the
sick,
and
he
did
so
telling
you
to
take
nothing
for
the
journey
–
no
staff,
no
bag,
no
bread,
no
money,
no
extra
tunic
(Luke
9).
Can
you
imagine
how
physically
and
emotionally
demanding
that
would
be?
2. Or
maybe
the
explanation
is
simpler.
You
have
climbed
a
mountain
to
pray.
Mountains
are
literally
a
part
of
the
religious
landscape
in
The
Bible.
Moses
climbed
to
the
top
of
Mount
Sinai
to
receive
the
tablets
containing
the
Ten
Commandments
from
God.
I
do
not
know
if
you
have
ever
climbed
a
mountain.
The
highest
I
can
claim
is
Mount
Snowdon
and
that’s
a
complete
tiddler
compared
to
the
ones
like
Mount
Kilimanjaro
that
I
know
at
least
one
of
the
more
youthful
members
of
the
congregation
has
ascended.
In
my,
admittedly
limited
experience,
few
people
bound
up
a
mountain
with
a
spring
in
their
step,
arriving
at
the
top
with
more
energy
than
when
they
started.
And
those
that
do
are,
quite
frankly,
freaky!
So,
here
again
is
the
simple
explanation:
you
–
that
is
to
say,
Peter,
James
or
John
–
are
tired
because
the
spiritual
pilgrimage
you
are
making
with
Jesus
is
demanding
and
can
be
tiring.
Now,
talking
of
tiring
experiences,
have
you
ever
had
the
one
where
a
phone
rings
in
the
middle
of
the
night,
or
a
child
calls,
or
perhaps
a
fire
alarm
starts
bleeping,
or
you
forgot
to
turn
off
your
mobile
phone
before
going
to
bed
and
so
it
rings
because
it
is
one
of
those
smart
phones
that
is
no
nearly
so
smart
enough
to
realise
that
you
don’t
actually
need
to
be
alerted
in
the
early
hours
of
the
morning
to
the
wine
fuelled
observations
on
life
from
a
friend
who
is
writing
on
Facebook.
Anyone
has
this
kind
of
experience
or
is
it
just
me?
Well,
if
you
have,
you
will
know
that
it
can
be
very
confusing,
especially
if
it
pulls
you
abruptly
from
a
vivid
dream
where,
say,
you
are
driving
at
speed
along
the
country
roads
of
Gloucestershire
in
your
brand
new
racing
green
Aston
Martin,
masterfully
balancing
the
twin
demands
of
controlling
the
vehicle
whilst
playing
3. air
guitar
to
the
well
amplified
sounds
of
American
rock
legends,
KISS.
Ok,
I
am
guessing
from
your
faces
that
that
one
really
is
just
me!
Peter,
John
and
James,
it
seems,
were
also
somewhat
bleary
eyed
and
confused.
And
who
can
blame
them?
There
was
Jesus,
the
appearance
of
his
face
changed,
and
his
clothes
as
bright
as
a
flash
of
lighting.
And
with
him
were
Moses
and
Elijah,
on-‐going
heroes
of
the
Jewish
religion
but
long
since
departed
from
this
mortal
coil.
Perhaps
Peter
saw
the
cloud.
Perhaps
he
could
sense
a
storm
gathering.
Perhaps
that
is
why
he
offered
to
put
up
shelters
so
Jesus,
Moses
and
Elijah
would
not
be
exposed
to
the
elements.
It
was
a
rather
thoughtful
thing
to
do,
don’t
you
think?
However,
he
has
misunderstood.
It
is
not
an
ordinary
cloud.
It
a
cloud
that
has
lead
the
people
out
of
Egypt
and
towards
the
Promised
Land.
It
is
a
cloud
that
signals
the
presence
of
God,
Yahweh,
Jehovah.
And
from
it
a
voice
speaks:
“This
is
my
Son,
whom
I
have
chosen;
listen
to
him.”
“This
is
my
Son,
whom
I
have
chosen;
listen
to
him.”
To
whom
was
the
voice
speaking?
I
suppose
it
was
to
Peter,
John
and
James.
But
why?
If
you
happen
to
have
your
Bible
open
rollback
to
the
proceeding
passage
(Luke
9:
18-‐27)
and
there
you
will
find
Jesus
asking
the
disciples
a
question,
“Who
do
the
crowds
say
I
am?”
They
replied,
“Some
say
John
the
Baptist;
others
say
Elijah;
and
still
others
that
one
of
the
prophets
from
long
ago
has
come
back
to
life.”
4. “But
what
about
you?”
he
asked.
“Who
do
you
say
I
am?”
Peter
answered,
“The
Christ
–
The
Messiah
–
of
God.”
Peter
was
right,
wasn’t
he?
Jesus
was
not
Elijah.
He
was
not
Moses,
the
most
important
prophet
in
Judaism.
He
could
not
be
because
there
was
Elijah,
and
Moses
too,
with
Jesus
on
the
mountaintop
But
Peter
was
only
part
right
or
rather
his
language
did
not
quite
capture
who
exactly
was
standing
before
him.
Peter
said
to
Jesus,
“you
are
the
Christ.”
God
said
to
Jesus,
“you
are
my
son.”
Put
yourself
in
Peter’s
shoes
for
a
minute.
Not
only
is
he
seeing
Jesus
is
a
new
light,
he
is
being
taken
on
a
journey
that
is
leading
him
to
see
Jesus
in
an
ever
changing
and
profoundly
challenging
light.
Consider
this.
Peter
answers
Jesus’
question
with
these
words:
“you
are
The
Christ
of
God.”
What
happens
next?
Is
he
told
well
done,
you
are
right?
No,
he
is
told
that,
“The
Son
of
Man
must
suffer
many
things
and
be
rejected
by
the
elders,
chief
priests
and
teachers
of
the
law.
He
must
be
killed
and
on
the
third
day
be
raised
to
life.”
What
on
earth
was
Jesus
talking
about?
I
doubt
very
much
this
is
what
Peter
had
in
mind
for
the
Christ
of
God.
Yet
the
gradual
tick-‐tock
towards
death
and
humiliation
sandwiches
the
transfiguration
scene.
Jesus
talks
of
his
death
before
the
transfiguration,
and
he
talks
of
his
betrayal
afterwards
as
well.
5. “Listen
carefully
to
what
I
am
about
to
tell
you,”
Jesus
tells
his
disciples,
“The
Son
of
Man
is
going
to
be
betrayed
into
the
hands
of
men.”
Perhaps
this
was
what
Jesus
was
discussing
with
Moses
and
Elijah:
exodus;
isolation;
loneliness.
This
was
something
the
three
of
them
could
share,
that
the
life
of
the
prophet
was
rarely
easy.
Jesus’
other
words
don’t
offer
much
comfort
to
the
disciples
either.
He
says,
“If
anyone
would
come
after
me,
they
must
deny
themselves
and
take
up
their
cross
daily
and
follow
me.
For
whoever
wants
to
save
their
life
will
lose
it,
but
whoever
loses
his
life
for
me
will
save
it.”
Let’s
not
pussy
foot
around
here.
Jesus
gives
a
clear
instruction
to
his
disciples.
To
follow
him,
they
must
deny
themselves
and
give
everything
to
him.
Yet
the
disciples
do
not
understand.
Perhaps
they
choose
not
to.
We
know
they
don’t
get
it
because
only
two
sections
down
from
the
transfiguration
(in
Luke
9:
46-‐50)
we
find
them
arguing
about
which
of
them
will
be
greatest.
And
so
Jesus
finds
a
child
and
tells
them
“don’t
you
ever
be
so
lofty
or
arrogant
or
so
full
of
yourself
that
you
would
not
welcome
as
someone
as
simple
and
as
powerless
as
this
child.”
Actually,
Jesus
puts
it
like
this,
“the
person
who
is
least
among
you
all
–
they
are
the
greatest.”
“This
is
my
Son,
whom
I
have
chosen;
listen
to
him.”
Perhaps
the
words
are
intended
for
us
to.
Words
of
challenge
but
also
of
encouragement.
6. Perhaps
the
instruction
to
give
everything
–
yes,
everything
–
to
Jesus
is
intended
for
us
too.
He
deserves
it.
He
may
even
demand
it.
The
words
of
the
great
hymn
‘When
I
survey
the
wondrous
cross’
are
so
beautiful,
so
eloquent
yet
so
challenging:
Were
the
whole
realm
of
nature
mine,
That
were
an
offering
far
too
small;
Love
so
amazing,
so
divine,
Demands
my
soul,
my
life,
my
all.
Let’s
not
pretend
this
is
easy.
Let’s
not
pretend
that
we
don’t
live
in
a
world
that
values
status
and
power
and
wealth.
Let’s
not
pretend
that
we
don’t
get
sucked
into
that
world
and,
worse,
help
promote
it
and
perpetuate
it.
My
formal
title
is
Dr.
Richard
Harris,
Reader
in
Quantitative
Geography
–
which,
in
case
you
are
wondering,
is
the
position
below
Professor
–
at
an
institution
that
describes
itself
as,
“one
of
the
world's
premier
6*
geography
schools.”
Six
star
is
the
highest.
Even
the
church
gives
me
a
title:
it
is
Licensed
Lay
Minister
or,
more
simply,
Reader,
which
means
I
am
a
Reader
twice
over,
if
only
I
had
time
to
read!
Of
course,
there
is
nothing
innately
wrong
in
these
titles
but
still
they
flatter
and
seduce.
They
are
a
temptation
to
value
status.
They
desire
to
set
apart.
And
yes,
I
would
quite
like
to
have
the
title
Prof
written
on
my
platinum
cash-‐back
credit
card
one
day.
But
let’s
not
be
too
chastised
or
downhearted
either.
We
need,
by
God’s
gracious
instruction,
and
by
the
guidance
of
the
Holy
Spirit
to
get
the
balance
right.
To
rejoice
that
we
are
being
refined
(Isaiah
48:10-‐11),
changed,
but
to
also
not
be
7. complacent.
We
are
called
to
actively
pursue
all
that
is
good
and
holy
in
our
lives,
and
to
set
aside
that
which
we
know
not
to
be.
There
is
a
wonderful
promise
that
comes
immediately
before
the
transfiguration.
Jesus
says,
“I
tell
you
the
truth,
some
who
are
standing
here
will
not
taste
death
before
they
see
the
kingdom
of
God.”
The
phrase
confused
the
early
church.
They
took
it
to
mean
that
Jesus
would
soon
return,
before
many
of
them
had
died.
He
didn’t.
Well,
not
in
the
sense
they
imagined
it.
Their
misunderstanding
was
to
believe
that
the
kingdom
of
God
is
something
outside
of
the
Earth
that
has
yet
to
be
revealed
in
it.
But
Jesus
says
in
Mark,
Chapter
1,
verse
15,
“The
time
has
come.
The
kingdom
of
God
is
near.
Repent
and
believe
the
good
news.”
Have
you
seen
the
Kingdom
of
God?
I
think
I
have.
I
think
you
have
too.
Isn’t
it
revealed
when
we
show
friendship
to
the
stranger?
Love
to
the
unloved.
Mercy
to
the
tormentor.
When
we
feed
or
clothe
the
homeless,
when
we
befriend
the
needy,
listen
to
the
lonely.
When
we
share
our
time.
When
we
share
our
possessions.
When
we
will
not
tolerate
injustice.
When
we
aspire
to
serve.
Wash
each
other’s
feet.
To
give
as
to
receive.
When
we
gather
in
worship.
When
we
gather
in
communion.
When
we
gather
as
friends,
as
brothers
and
sisters,
regardless
of
race,
gender,
past
history
or
any
other
form
of
social
categorisation
that
tempts
to
divide
us
from
the
unity
that
should
come
in
Christ
Jesus.
Those,
I
suggest,
are
the
signs
of
God’s
kingdom.
8. On
Wednesday
Lent
begins,
bringing
the
obvious
benefit
of
pancakes
on
the
proceeding
Tuesday.
That
day
is
also
the
anniversary
of
Lincoln’s
birthday,
who
said,
amongst
other
things,
“It
is
fit
and
becoming
in
all
people,
at
all
times,
to
acknowledge
and
revere
the
Supreme
Government
of
God;
to
bow
in
humble
submission
to
His
chastisement;
to
confess
and
deplore
their
sins
and
transgressions
in
the
full
conviction
that
the
fear
of
the
Lord
is
the
beginning
of
wisdom;
and
to
pray,
with
all
fervency
and
contrition,
for
the
pardon
of
their
past
offenses,
and
for
a
blessing
upon
their
present
and
prospective
action.”
However,
I
am
no
Daniel
Day-‐Lewis,
and
a
sermon
–
or,
rather
its
listener
-‐
can
only
tolerate
so
many
tangents
so
I
will
return
to
the
point.
For
Lent
many
of
you
will
consider
giving
up
chocolate
or
crisps
or
beer
or
takeaways
or
television
or
something
that
is
appropriate
and
relevant
to
you.
And
I
dare
say
that
it
is
a
good
thing
to
do.
However,
the
true
purpose
of
Lent
is
to
take
us
on
a
spiritual
pilgrimage
to
Easter
when
we
remember
the
one
who
gave
up
everything
–
everything!
–
for
us,
and
calls
us
to
follow
that
example.
Peter
said,
“you
are
the
Christ
of
God.”
The
voice
from
the
cloud
said,
“This
is
my
Son,
whom
I
have
chosen;
listen
to
him.”
The
question
we
might
like
to
ask
ourselves
is:
“is
it
time
to
see
Jesus
in
a
new
light?”
Amen.