Purple

Responding to Acts 16:9-15

Haiku of witness and welcome.

Paul has a vision:

a Macedonian man

calls, Come and help us.

We booked a passage

to Macedonia. God

wanted us to go!

We had to proclaim

the good news of God's new life.

So we went to them.

There, in Philippi

they went down to the river,

to the place of prayer.

On the Sabbath day,

They met the gathered women,

sharing God's good news.

Lydia, dealer

in purple cloth, heard Paul's words

listened eagerly.

Worshipper of God,

Lydia, asks: Baptise me!

She, and her household.

Lydia urged them:

If you judge me faithful, come,

and stay at my home.

© Ken Rookes 2025

Who shall I send?

Reflecting on Isaiah chapter 6

Haiku for trembling

In the sixth chapter

of his book, Isaiah tells

how it all began.

A vision of God

on a throne, lofty; his hem

filling the temple.

Seraphs attending:

six wings. Covering faces,

feet; two wings flying.

Calling each other,

Holy holy holy; Earth

fills with God's glory.

The seraphs' voices

shook the temple; it is filled

with smoke and wonder.

Woe is me, I'm lost,

my lips are unclean, I dwell

among the unclean!

A seraph flew near

with a coal from the altar,

touched my mouth with it.

The Lord's voice cried out;

Who shall I send, who will go?

Here I am, send me!

Go and say to them.

Keep hearing: understanding

will not come to you.

You won't comprehend,

or turn to be healed, until

your land lies in ruin.

© Ken Rookes 2025

Only a boy

 

Only a boy

Reflecting on Jeremiah 1:4-10

Haiku for a call

Calls himself a boy,

Jeremiah; just how old?

fourteen, seventeen?

The word of the Lord

came to boy Jeremiah

to blow his young mind.

Before you were formed

in the womb I knew you; called

you to speak my word.

Seriously, God?

I don't know how I should speak!

I'm only a boy!

It's okay, said God,

Go where I send, speak my words;

fear not. I'll be there!

The Lord touched my mouth

with his hand. I put my words

in your mouth. Speak them!

I appoint you to

pluck up and pull down nations;

to build and to plant.

Samuel, David,

Jeremiah and Mary;

God's youthful brigade!

© Ken Rookes 2025

Here I am

Haiku for a call

There, in the Temple

at Shiloh, boy Samuel

served under Eli.

For many years now

God has been silent. No word,

no visions, either.

Samuel, resting

in the temple, with the ark

of God, heard a voice.

Samuel! The voice

called twice. Here I am, he said,

and ran to Eli.

I did not call you,

said Eli. Lie down again.

This happened three times.

Eli realised

that ‘twas God calling the boy;

told Sam what to say.

The Lord came once more,

calling, Samuel! The boy

said, Speak, I’m list’ning..

When you’re just a kid

it must be daunting when God

calls you by your name.

© Ken Rookes 2024

What shall I tell them?

Haiku for a calling

Fugitive Moses

finds himself in Midian;

marries, settles down.

Tending Jethro’s sheep

in the wilderness, comes to

Horeb, God’s mountain.

An angel from God

appears in a firey bush.

The bush is unburned.

Moses stops to look.

Well who wouldn’t? Quite a sight;

what is going on?

The Lord speaks to him.

Moses, take off your sandals;

this is holy ground.

It is I, the God

of your fathers: Abraham,

Isaac and Jacob.

I have heard the cries

of my people in Egypt;

I know their anguish.

I am sending you.

You will deliver them, take

them to a new land.

Must be a mistake,

God; you surely can’t mean me!

I will be with you.

When you bring them out

of Egypt you will worship

here, on this mountain.

What shall I tell them

when they ask, What is God’s name?

I am who I am.

Go to your people,

those Israelites in bondage;

say, I AM sent me!

© Ken Rookes 2023

Move it, Abram!

Haiku for the settled

God said to Abram:

Leave the comfort of your home,

go to a new land.

Leave your father’s house,

bid your family good-bye;

I’ll make your name great.

I’ll bless you greatly.

For all of earths families

You’ll be a blessing.

He did as God said,

taking his wife and nephew.

Aged seventy-five!

Abram and Sarai,

gather their servants and goods,

and depart Haran.

They get to Canaan.

In Shechem, at Moreh’s oak,

there the Lord appeared

This is your country,

said God; you and your offspring.

An altar is built.

Good news for Abram;

less so for the Canaanites,

already settled.

© Ken Rookes 2023

I am only a boy

Haiku for the hesitant.

Before he was born

Jeremiah was chosen,

set aside by God.

You’ll be a prophet.

I’m sending you to speak to

kingdoms and nations.

Aaargh! Surely not me!

God, I’m not ready for this,

don’t know how to speak!

Jeremiah’s cry

when he first heard God speaking:

I am just a boy!

Don’t say, I’m a boy!

And don’t be afraid of them.

I will be with you.

A symbolic act:

God touches the boy’s mouth, says

My words are yours, now.

Your words have power

over kingdoms; to bring down,

and to build and plant.

If I was sixteen

I might take exception, too;

if God called my name.

© Ken Rookes 2022

They called out to God

Haiku for those in bondage

Time’s dust overlays

memory; generations

cause the past to lie.

Joseph is forgot

and those who once were welcomed

are made enemies.

Arriving as guests,

they multiplied, became feared,

ended up as slaves.

Crying out to God

to end their cruel suffering;

Lord, deliver us!

Fugitive Moses,

tending sheep in Midian

sees a burning bush.

As the twigs crackle

Moses hears a voice calling,

takes off his sandals.

Most disturbingly

the voice purports to be God:

I am sending you!

I hear my people,

I know their pain. You must go,

bring them from Egypt.

Demurring, Moses

protests his limitations.

This is beyond me!

Say to my people

I am has sent me to you;

My name for all time.

© Ken Rookes 2019

They came to listen

Haiku for net leavers

They came to listen,

to hear what he had to say;

the Nazareth man.

Some said that he spoke

direct words from the Father.

They pressed in on him.

Two boats at the shore.

He employs one to teach from;

a floating platform.

The lesson concludes.

Take the boat out, he tells them,

and let down your nets.

The fish aren’t biting.

what would be the point? they say.

Yet, if you insist.

The nets are soon filled,

nearly breaking with the strain.

The other boat comes.

Simon, James and John,

fishing partners, are amazed;

can’t believe their eyes!

Boat owner Simon,

falls before him, cries: Depart!

I am not worthy!

Stick with me, he said

we’ll catch people, netting them

into God’s kingdom!

When they reached the shore

the fishermen left their nets

and followed Jesus.

© Ken Rookes 2019

I saw you

Haiku of surprising discovery

Hey, comrade Philip,

you’re the man I’m looking for:

come and follow me!

Having met Jesus,

Philip went to find his friend:

Come, meet the teacher!

Could he be the one

the prophets told us about;

the one sent from God?

Nazareth, you say?

How could the Messiah come

from that backwater?

Ah, Nathanael,

I’m very pleased to meet you;

such an honest man!

I’ve never met you,

Jesus, and yet you know me?

Very impressive!

I had a vision.

You sat beneath a fig tree

as Philip approached.

Rabbi, I’m seeing

God’s Son, and Israel’s King.

Teacher, you’re the man!

Give me your answer!

Come, join us on the journey;

you’ll find so much more.

© Ken Rookes 2018.

the tyranny of the clock

When Simon and Andrew and James and John responded to Jesus’ invitation to follow him, they had no idea what that would mean for them, or what a blessing they would be for future generation to our time. Before we can consider responding, we need to hear the call, to be silent and listen. As in the time of Samuel, the voice of God is not often heard, but that doesn’t mean that God has given up calling to us. Frequently God’s call is nonverbally communicated through the pleading eyes of babies and starving, orphaned children, the hopeless eyes of the elderly and terrified looks of those fleeing war zones that we see daily. We don’t require words. We have listened to enough sermons. We know what God wants from us and for us.

If you are unsure of what Christ is calling you to at this time, you might like to commit to a few minutes of silence each day for a week. It is likely things will become clearer for you. Put aside the tyranny of the clock and the floods of words and other noise. It could be that what you are being called to is a time of resting as Elijah in the cave. You too may be being called to follow Christ who holds all people in his heart which can be done anytime anywhere. If you can put into your covenant with Christ, a clause of commitment to silent attending, there are guaranteed that God’s grace will be sufficient for the task and there will be many blessings for you and others from taking the risk.

Rev Julianne Parker

(for full sermon see sermons page)

What are you looking for?

The same;

what everybody wants.

A sense that there might be purpose,

perhaps even a God;
who can say?

A belonging to somewhere,

or something.
Someone,
some many.

An answer to the wonder;

and the beauty.

A settling with mystery;

sitting alongside,
accepting its peace.

Hope, in the face of uncertainty;

courage, in the face of fear.
Grace.

A way to make the possible real;

to bring the justice home.

Someone to walk beside

on the track;
a partner in the seeking.

The same;

what everybody wants.

© Ken Rookes 2014

The first chapter of John’s gospel tells of Jesus’ call to follow him. First he calls two unnamed disciples of John the Baptist, (one of whom we later learn is Andrew, who tells his brother, Simon.) Jesus engages them with the question: “What are you looking for?”

In the reading for next Sunday, Jesus calls Phillip, who, in turn, tells his brother, Nathanael.

The question, “What are you looking for?” is a question asked of all who come to Jesus.

Home

(Matthew 4:12-13)

Jesus made his home in Capernaum.
His mother stayed in Nazareth,
along with his sisters and brothers.
They talked in low murmurs
about their eccentric older brother;
the girls were married,
most of the boys too,
with children of their own.
Family gatherings had been good times
of fun and celebration;
with Jesus, everybody’s favourite uncle.
At thirty he should have taken a wife;
should be thinking about his own children.
Perhaps that was his intention,
but why Capernaum, and not Nazareth?
Surprised, bewildered,
and somewhat hurt by his departure,
the family held a crisis meeting
and agreed that a delegation should go
to the seaside town to persuade him to return home.

“It’s good to see you,”
he whispered as he embraced each one.
“Yes, I will be staying.
Of course I miss you,
but no, I’m not lonely,” he said,
as he introduced his new friends.
They wept, spoke of his mother’s tears,
and pressed him for further explanation.
“The time had come,”
was all he offered.

© Ken Rookes

the call

But whether small or great, and no matter what the stage or grade of life, the call rings up the curtain, always, on a mystery of transfiguration – a rite, or moment, of spiritual passage, which, when complete, amounts to a dying and a birth. The familiar life horizon has been outgrown; the old concepts, ideals, and emotional patterns no longer fit; the time for the passing of a threshold is at hand.

–Joseph Campbell 1904-1987The Hero With A Thousand Faces
http://www.edgeofenclosure.org/epiphany3a.html

The plunge

The Plunge

Jesus, source of living water,
when you went to the Jordan that day
to hear the Baptiser’s cry,
what did you come to see?
Did you go seeking advice
about the lonely life of the prophet?
Were you expecting
to be moved by his message?
When you answered his call to repent
and joined him in the waters,
what were you thinking?
How did you decide that his strident call to sinners
needed the tempering of love’s gracious invitation?
Tell me, Jesus,
was there already an inner growing gnawing realisation
that your carpenter’s skill with timber, joints and nails
was about to give way to a new vocation
of stories, speakings, sharings and sacrifice?
Or was it only when the Baptiser
took you into the cool water,
and you emerged, saturated,
and kissed by the Spirit-dove,
that you had any idea
of what the voice might be trying to say,
or of what a beloved son
might be expected to do?

© Ken Rookes

reassurance

The keep-your-fingers-crossed Jesus
lurks behind my fears
and offers me a sort of hope.
Believe in me, he says;
it’s a simple formula,
and I’ll help you
to get the words right.


This Jesus for the credulous
is brightly painted.
He tries to tell me
that everything that happens,
good and ill,
is part of a divine plan;
just keep smiling.


Always there when a safe passage
is needed, he smiles benignly
with his fingers crooked.
He promises blessings
and reassurance,
forgives at the drop of a hat,
and is never outraged.


Sometimes, in the screaming of the night,
I glimpse a different Jesus.
Less pretty, he is wild
like the man in the story
and more than slightly dangerous.
He carries pain in his face,
anger in his voice,


and love in his calloused hands.
This Jesus brings little
that might resemble comfort,
yet still speaks strangely of hope.
He offers no seat in paradise,
just a worrying invitation
to walk his way.


© Ken Rookes 2013