Love
The Dove
I fly and land where needed,
Where Justice finds her heart hurting,
And we hold the gods accountable,
Opening eyes to her love,
To the love of her,
God.
A Prayer of Oblation
(c) Jamie Coats
24th July 2017
Faithful Betrayal – Holy Fire
First of the Trinity
Mary
God does not
Rape
Mary.
If God had raped Mary
Do you think we’d have her joy
So magnificently described?
God sends Gabriel.
He appears as the most
Gorgeous of men.
She hugs him saying,
“You are so beautiful.”
Places her head on his chest,
Looks up
And tentatively
They kiss on the lips.
He moves to kiss her again.
“No,” she says,
“My betrothal is arranged.
My father is making me marry.
I cannot defy him,
My blood-line, my tribe.”
Gabriel steps back.
“You get to decide.
God’s love is consensual.
Any other story
Is a lie made up
By man.”
Mary tremors at the idea.
A woman freed to choose
Love over tribe,
A woman no longer
Property of man
With the right to decide.
Knowing that this right is
The centre of God’s love
For all mankind.
She chooses love.
She defies her dad,
She faithfully betrays her blood.
“Be it unto me
According to
Thy word…”
Gabriel, Mary
As man
As woman
Fully alive
Feeling
Exploring
Adoring
Intertwining
Through each other
Combining
To be
Worship
To and from
Eternity
Now one
With God
Now spiralling
In a greater orbit
Knowing they are
Saying yes to life,
To Jesus.
She gives birth to a boy,
Who grows to be a man
Who in time understands,
But before,
His tribe raises him
As their man.
Like all of us
He learns the normal
Basis of hate:
Who’s in?
Who’s out?
How is my blood superior?
I am a boy,
I am this belief and religion,
I am of my tribe.
Second of the Trinity
The Syrophoenician Woman
He grows into a prophet,
Limited at first,
He prays to the Father,
And says he is just a man for
The lost sheep of his tribe.
One day he meets a woman,
A woman who says, “No,
That is not good enough.”
She prays as a Mother,
The Mother who is
Desperate
For her sick child.
She is foreign,
Annoying, cloying
And totally persistent.
She is not of his blood,
Gender, race, tribe
Caste, class or God.
He denies her,
He reviles her,
Finally calls her a dog.
She faithfully sees past
The hate he’s been taught
She knows his heart.
She stands her ground,
Tells him,
“Even dogs get scraps.”
Like flint
She strikes him,
Sparks his love.
She breaks the clasp that holds
His cultural coat of hate,
It falls away,
Revealing the loving heart
Given him
By his mother and God.
His mutual love flows,
He loves her daughter
As his own.
Free,
He heals
Into the Messiah.
Third of the Trinity
Mary Magdalene
He is now on the path
To be crucified
By those so superior.
Now he honours every woman,
Every foreigner,
Every other.
Now he’s got it,
Are you surprised
Why he is such a hit
With all the women
Of the Gospels
Described?
Are you surprised
That those of power,
Still dressed in hate,
Come after him
For such betrayal
With bloodshed in mind?
Betrayed by a kiss,
Led through the crowds,
They kill him on a tree.
Mary Magdalene
She watches him die.
His agony consumes her,
She struggles to stop
The terror
From petrifying her.
He dies. Is it over?
The light is fading fast
When his body is released.
She follows
As they take his body
To the tomb.
A new one carved into rock
With a circular stone
That rolls back into a slot.
They haul his body
Down into the antechamber
Onto the preparation table,
No time
To put him into
One of the burial slots.
It is Sabbath,
Darkness,
She’ll return when allowed.
On the third day
She comes early,
Still in darkness
With enough myrrh
To stop the retching
That celebrates
The victory of those
Who kill those who
Put love before blood.
The stone is sitting
In its slot
Rolled back.
No stench,
No body,
Another humiliating loss.
The rock-carved tomb,
The ultimate dead end,
Is emptiness.
Have the men of bloodshed
Desecrated his body
And hidden their evil deed?
“No!” she screams.
In the place of despair
She is faithful to love,
She feels it envelop her.
She turns, risen he is there,
Betraying death itself
Her love explodes,
It is that mutual love
It feels consensual
Beyond sexual,
Union with God.
No hatred to those who kill,
Compassion for all,
Resurrection love
From her pours forth.
Finally Holy Fire
Yes his act is sacred betrayal.
Yes his reward is death,
Yes he is going to ask you to
Stand with the poor,
Under the stars and
Light the candle of a little child.
You will light her candle
Regardless of who you are.
Free, you will not ask
Of gender
Of race
Of tribe
Of caste
Of class
Of God
You’ll faithfully betray
Your tribe if you answer
Yes to what Jesus and
The Trinity of women ask,
“Are you flint enough
To light Holy Fire?
Biblical References:: Luke 1, 23:26-24:12, Mark 7:24-30, Matthew 15:21-28, & John 20:1-18
The Candle Trilogy: Unlit Betrayal | Lit Faithfulness | Faithful Betrayal – Holy Fire
The Candle Trilogy was published in Untamed Gospel edited by Martyn Percy.
© Jamie Coats February 2017
Theme for the Year 2017
Egg of Light
In the egg of light
vision to infinity
brilliant white
enveloping my entity.
In the womb undefiled
in the festival of light
dances the ecstatic child
the dance of the day lit night.
Dance of the universe in eternity
in its richness of creation
multiplicity in unity,
enraptured variation
embracing invariability,
in the crystal instant
entirety of reality,
dazzling the infant
with prismatic being
double rainbow
seven colors of seeing,
light of halo.
Child eyes bright
at the clear clouded gem
paradox of delight
tears lighting them.
Blaze of realization.
Thoughts, sparks of light
ignite with no meditation
searing holes of right
thro’ walls of reason,
empowering the symbol
of light to emblazon
the way to be humble.
Beyond all image
no understanding
joy of knowledge
totally unending
The poem was originally titled Friday 24th July 1987
Jamie Coats
The Man in the Noon
I rode Pegasus all morn,
Could have ridden all day,
Instead at noon
We gently come in to graze.
Emma said the Lord of the Manor
Will say unto you, “Work for me
You’ll be fed from my dovecote
Eggs and young fledglings that coo.”
Emma taught me to reply,
“You’ll not want me to work for you.
I’ve been sent to release the dove,
It is what I am called to do.”
I’ve broken into the dovecote,
Picked up the fluffy fledgling,
The one nearly ready for flight,
’tis now in my jacket, peeking out.
Now I throw the young dove
Up into the air.
Up towards the sun.
Squinting, I see it fly.
I call out at the top of my lungs,
If you don’t shoot for the stars
You’ll not land on the moon.
If you don’t land on the moon,
You will not see the whole earth,
So blue and beautiful,
So full of God’s people.
Hold it all in your heart.
Then ride a moon beam back
To perch on Pegasus’ head.
He’ll snort with delight,
Now you coo and I’ll begin to pray,
This noon
I stop
I put down
All I do.
The offering of my work
Is to you, God,
And to my love,
And to all your children too.
Thanks be to God
Who gave me life.
I love the people of this earth,
I’m sorry I judge them so.
Now I call out their names to you.
God, help us, hug us
With our demons
Whom we deny.
Then in your arms
We will know
We’re already loved,
Forgiven, renewed.
Come Pegasus
Did you graze well?
Your new friend the dove
Will guide us seeking.
It is time to fly,
Fluffy fledglings to find,
We’ll go
’till the sun starts to hide.
The prayer in the middle of the poem contains the seven ways to pray in the Book of Common Prayer: 1) OBLATION; 2) THANKSGIVING; 3) PRAISE; 4) PENITENCE; 5) INTERCESSION; 6) PETITION; & 7) ADORATION.
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
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
Our Newborn Joy
A word, softly spoken
Impregnates our busy lives
Swelling the recollection
We are already loved.
A prayer for Advent
Jamie Coats December 2012
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.
Beautiful Reminders
The love of God
Is like a butterfly
That reminds us
That we are as
Beautiful as flowers
And in our darkest heart
Is the love giving
Nectar of life.
I am part of a team working with the Brothers of the Society of Saint the Evangelist at their Monastery in Cambridge, Massachusetts on communication. One catch phrase for our team is “Let’s send a butterfly.” A butterfly is a postcard, a booklet, a bookmark, a photograph that is so beautiful that people will put it on their mantelpiece, display it in their home. The Brothers have a wonderful eye for beauty and simplicity and profound way for reminding people that they are loved by God.
Using on demand printer services like Lulu.com, Digitallizard.com, Blurb.com and photo services like Snapfish or Shutterfly it is now possible to produce small print runs of stunning prayer cards, booklets, photo-booklets, and calendars.
Please think how you and your church can send someone a butterfly that reminds them that they are beautiful and loved by God.
Hit by a Bus Haiku
I am, roadside down
Hit by a bus out biking,
Tears, loving my child
Jamie Coats August 2009
On July 31, 2009 I was hit by a bus while bicycling to work. As I lay on the ground an apparition of my daughter appeared before me.