Sermon on The Transfiguration of Jesus

SERMON For Saint John’s Episcopal Church
Beverly Farms, Massachusetts

The Transfiguration of Jesus
By Jamie Coats
March 2nd, 2014

Last Sunday after Epiphany

Readings: Exodus 24:12-18, 2 Peter 1:16-21, Matthew 17:1-9, Psalm 99
Reference: Luke 9:37-43

Thank you for inviting me to your beautiful church to reflect on the Transfiguration. I bring you greetings from the Brothers of the Society of Saint John the Evangelist, the Episcopal monks, – a wonderful band of kind men for whom I work. I know that you have invited the Brothers here on many occasions. They are grateful and send their love.

In today’s reading we learn of two different men in different times who went up to the mountain top, communed with God, and came down to the valley. The messages of Moses and Jesus are very different.

We hear in the last verse of Psalm 99 that we should
“Proclaim the greatness of the LORD our God
and worship him upon his holy hill; *
for the LORD our God is the Holy One.”

We are to “worship him upon his holy hill.” I believe that in the story we hear today in the New Testament Jesus disagrees, it is not enough to worship God upon his holy hill. We have to be able to come down the mountain, into the valley and look into each others eyes and see the love of God.

But let us go back to Moses. He goes up to the mountain top. He is changed and he brings down badly needed laws, the Ten Commandments that patterned God’s love into the lives of the wandering Israelites, and to a great extent patterns our lives to this day. This is good top-down stuff.

But you can have too much of top-down. By Jesus’ time the laws brought down by Moses had been expanded upon, a purity system had developed, by a few, who so-to-speak claimed the mountain top for themselves and dictated from their elite height how the rest of us were to live. People were kept in their place, told what they could do, could not do, who was in, who was out, who was loved by God, who was not.

Jesus shows up and starts breaking these purity rules. We hear time and time again the religious authorities being appalled at Jesus’ behavior including daring to heal on the Sabbath. What message does Jesus bring down the mountain?

I have it on good authority that in the Eastern Orthodox Tradition it is held that nothing happened to Jesus at the Transfiguration, he was not changed. He already was the son of God, the man of light. What changed was the disciples, the love of God flowed through them too. What changed because of Jesus is the knowledge that the love of God flows through every one of us, without exception. Orthodox icons of the Transfiguration show the light infusing everyone.

Understanding this explains the story that Luke tells about what happened on the next day. Luke describes how Jesus is off the mountain in the valley amid a big crowd. A man comes to him whose son is desperately ill, in the clutches of an unclean spirit, and he tells Jesus that the disciples have not been able to help. Jesus first rolls his eyes at the disciples saying “”You faithless and perverse generation, how much longer must I be with you and bear with you?” In other words, don’t you get it, you have the power to heal this boy too, why don’t you heal him. He says some unrecorded words to the boy and the boy is healed.

Through my association with the Brothers of the Society of Saint Evangelist I think I have an idea of how Jesus connected to the pain in the boy and also what you and I are capable of doing to help heal each other and bring in God’s light.

In 2010 I found myself in a similar situation to the man in Luke’s story whose son was ill. Except in my case it was not my child but my oldest sibling, my sister Emma. She was hospitalized in a psychiatric hospital in Oxford, England. I flew back and forth to England with my boss at the time, Br. Curtis giving me all the time I needed. Sadly there was no Jesus to say the necessary words to Emma, to connect with her and release her pain. She went missing, there was a large police search. Nine days later we learned of an unidentified body at the foot of a sea cliff. We knew it was her from the description.

Just before I flew from Boston to England to organize services for Emma Brother Curtis called me. He had known me for four years and he is pretty good at looking into another person’s soul. He said, “I have been praying for a word for you to take with you, the word “wonder” keeps coming to me.” I thanked him but felt it would be a long time before I ever felt wonder again.

The year before Emma died she wrote a long poem that described a walk through a wood in Devon, England. On what would have been her 50th birthday we gathered with her friends where Emma described sitting at the river’s edge. We read her whole poem. I waded in and poured Emma’s ashes into the river, into her poem. At that moment I was flooded with wonder.

Afterwards, to work through my grief I wrote a series of poems called the “Grief & Wonder Trilogy.” The first poem goes:

We all have tragedy.
Will it hold us
And we pass it on
Tragically?

Or can we let
Our friends hold us
So hold our own tragedy
And then let it like ash

Spread into the stream
Returning to the cycle
Of a greater love
And experience wonder?

Br. Curtis had looked into my soul, knew what I needed and gave me one word, Wonder. It is an amazing spiritual gift that one man or woman can do that for another. I am not a monk. I am not very good at looking into the soul of another and producing the right word, as Curtis did for me and Jesus did for the boy.

But we are told that Jesus knows that we can transfigure one another. That is the story of the Transfiguration, it is about you and me helping each other. It is about us letting our friends hold us. It is not about truth on high coming down the mountain top. It is about when you greet each other after this service. Jesus knows that we can transfigure each other, even in coffee hour.

And here is one way I have been learning about Transfiguration. Some of you may be aware that the Brothers publish a very short daily meditation by email call “Brother, Give Us A Word.” A couple of years ago in 2012 I was joking with the Brothers that in Lent we could ask instead for friends to “Give up a Word.”

So I thought I would give it a try. I set off to ask anyone I might encounter the following:

If you could give up a word for a week that would transform your life for the better, what would it be?

What happened amazed me and continues to.

A woman told me that in her head she always called her self “Stupid” as her mean older sister had done when she was little and felt destined to go the grave calling herself “Stupid” until she gave up the word.

Br. David Vryhof said to me that he needed to give up “Should” because other wise at the end of day he can’t be grateful to God.

Once on a plane a fellow passenger gave up the word “daughter” to her own horror and went on to explain how she struggles to relate to her daughter. She spent her life saving to put her daughter through college and currently her daughter is not saving for her own children’s college and this causes this lady so much anguish.

I have asked people in bars, restaurants and planes. I should warn you that asking this question in Gloucester produces very salty replies.

A few words can transform a situation and it is transforming me. I was at an airport restaurant and I was grumpy. But for some reason I asked the waitress if she would like to give up a word. Her word was “No.” Then she said, “I say it to my little boy all the time but if I gave up “No” I am scared I would hit him. I am so tired. I so need a vacation.” I went from grumpy to tears.

In another restaurant the food was terrible. I had even sent the coffee back because it was cold. But when I asked the waiter if he would like to give up a word, he smiled joyously, and also told me that his word was “No” because he needed to begin saying “Yes” to more things in his life. Our whole relationship changed. The food was still awful but our time together was good.

What I have been learning with these conversations is that we can break our own top-down, from on high, purity system and bring healing this sabbath day. All we need is simple words of the heart. Not your normal, conventional phrases like “What do you do?” or “How do you do?” Or even “How are you?”

When greeting people if we try phrases like “What do you most love to do?” “What is your life dedicated to?” “What is your passion?” the world will change. Today I invite you to ask each other “If you could give up a WORD for a week that would transform your life for the better, what would it be?”

You might like to try this for Lent.

Try this question, share your word to give up and I think you will have a sense of how Jesus connected to the boy in Luke’s story and understand Jesus’ belief that you and I can transfigure each other.

Amen

Further reading:

Writings by Jamie Coats: www.wingedboots.com
Give Up A Word: www.giveupaword.org
Society of Saint John the Evangelist: www.ssje.org
Brother, Give Us A Word: www.ssje.org/word

(c) 2014 Jamie Coats March 2014

No Nothin’! GOD!

You’re a No Nothin’!
baptize
with fire
water
blood

You’re a No Nothin’!
brand you
drown you
rape you
stab you

You’re a No Nothin’!
drag you out
dress you up
white sheet robed
walk up, spit

You’re a No Nothin’!
plunge a knife
into your chest
blood ooze out
now squirting red

You’re a No Nothin’!
dead

dove appears
above your head
knife falls out
bleeding stops

stain of blood
at first a mess
forms a cross
red crucifix

baptized by Spirit
love of Jesus
loudly you say
In The Beginning

No Nothin’! GOD!

Written for the Sunday before Martin Luther King Day in honor of Martin Luther King and his work.

Read on MLK day 2004 at the Church of Our Saviour, Arlington, Massachusetts as an alternate recitation to Duke Ellington’s “In the Beginning God” from his Sacred Concert. Scriptural inspiration from Genesis 1:1, Isaiah 43:2 and Luke 3:21-22.

© Jamie Coats January 2004

No Word of God

 

 

 

 

“I am so happy,” said the Devil. 
“People rarely use the word “Evil.”
Or words of God so beautiful,
Crafted to be so prayerful.”

“That hateful wonder, the holy Liturgy,
Vanishes as people talk on their own authority.
Linguistic worship reduced to Sunday,
They chuck it out every weekday.”

“Who’s left speaking? My favorite preachers,
Who hammer words, not like teachers.
Mashing God’s meaning, in their judgmental way,
Driving people from sacred texts away.”

“Who responds? Reasoning voices,
With no hint of scripture” the Devil rejoices.
“I love their godless word parade,
Raising Reason as God to masquerade.”

“In the beginning was the Word, the Word was God.
No Words of God, In the Ending was the Void!
Don’t try mentioning the Light from Light, Jesus.
People will think you quite ridiculous.”

“God commanded us not to speak of him in vain.
He’d better worry now no one even mentions his name!
Now don’t call me the “Devil” or “Beelzebub,” just “No Good,”
We don’t want any inspired language in the neighborhood.”

© Jamie Coats                                               February 2004

Still Hope at Pigeon Cove

Still
I sit at dusk
Quiet, with a sea view

Half sky
Quarter sea
Quarter grass

And me
My hands cupped
Waiting to receive

At dawn the sun arose
The love within, Emma
Emmanuel for some

Released a dove
Looking for a cove
All day it comes

Across the half sky
Across the quarter blue
Across the quarter green

Arriving to alight
On my left shoulder
Its feet prickle my skin

With a slight flutter
Down my arm
It nestles into my hands

So fluffy
So warm, so light
It coos

My partner cups her hand
Gently under my right
So slowly I slide it out

Our white pigeon
Still comfy
Let’s us know

It is time to sleep
And we will awake, with
Hope

Theme for 2013

Looking for Emmanuel – post Newton

In the late 90s I volunteered one morning a week for one class in a middle school in Mattapan in Boston at a time of many youth-on-youth shootings.  I asked my sixth grade class how we could make the class safe. Quickly ideas were shouted out:  “armed guards, metal detectors, bars on the windows.” Then a boy, one of the smallest, put his hand up. He said, “Then we will be in a prison,” he paused and said, “We could try to get along.” A murmur of assent went round the class.

 

 

Bean & Leaf

She walked into the bar and saw him immediately, the Greenman. His face was made of leaves, he wore a summer suit and a floral Liberty print tie displaying a riot of flowers tastefully tumbling down his front. She sat next to him. She was wearing a small silk pouch around her neck that matched the color of her dress. The pouch hung over her heart. She took the pouch off and put it onto the bar between them. She opened it, revealing a white lined interior holding a variety of beans. He pointed at one and she smiled. He looked up and his eyes caught the bar tender’s attention. He ordered and the bar tender produced what looked like a pint of Guinness for him and a bottle of mineral water for her. His pint was actually filled with deep, rich, dark earth. He pushed his finger into the earth making a hole, she put the bean in, closed the hole and then she poured a little of her fresh spring water into the pint and it soaked in. The seed in the caring earth felt the water ignite its inner strength of life, sprouted and soon a tender new leaf unfurled … to their delight and to everyone else at the bar’s surprise.

The Green Man and Pegasus

At a bar met the Green Man
Who asks, “Like a word?”

“I am looking for Emmanuel,
Emma for short.”

“Go to my barn, take some lessons,
I’ve just the horse for you, Pegasus.

What a winged horse,
Asked for a barn right on the cliff edge

So he’d be able to leap straight into the air.
No, I said, erosion happens.

You’ll have a barn way back from the edge.
From the barn you can still see the sea.

I built the barn from the sacred tree,
The one on which he died.

At the barn take Pegasus out of his stall.
Groom his winter coat so fine,

Put some fluff in a can.
Pick up his feet, pick out his hooves,

Open his mouth, put in the bit
Bend his ears forward, reins over his head.

Saddle him up, check the girth again and again.
You don’t want to fall off up in the air.

Take time to be responsible,
Ride him around the paddock

Until he’s done his business.
I want no defecating from on high.

Then ride off the cliff edge,
To people’s surprise you’ll not fall to your death

But rise into the sky.
Now before you go

Come back to the bar.
Ask my friends each for a word,

A caterpillar one that crawls around inside
Eating up their lives.

Put the words in your can,
Shut the lid all cozy

They’ll turn into chrysali.
Then on Pegasus take off,

Straight into the storm sky
Ride ‘till the sun appears.

Then open that can
And butterflies will pour out

Leaving a rainbow trail
Arching color across the sky.

On your return tell your daughter
If she has a nightmare

She can snuck into his stall
And curl up under his wing.

You’ll find Emma, you’ll find her
You’ll find home, you’ll find us all, partner.

Know what grows, dies, returns.
Seasons and heartbeats understand.

Here’s to bars and barns
Places for you to be a Green Man.”

Theme for 2012

Jamie Coats February 2012

Stations of the Christ – 8 Visions – Index

The Stations of the Christ is a transcription of eight visionary experiences that I had during Lent 2004.

Introduction: How it Began

Vision 1: Christ Reigns

Vision 2: In Boots, Behold God!

Vision 3: The Keys to Heaven

Vision 4: The Virgin Void

Vision 5: Blind Apostles

Vision 6: Crucify Her

Vision 7: Resurrection, Easter Egg

Vision 8: You, God Incarnate

 

Next Chapter >