Show us the Father

Haiku for the family

Jesus is the way,

the gospel promises us,

to abundant life.

An image of home;

this house with its many rooms.

There we are welcomed.

He spoke. Be at peace;

don't let your hearts be troubled.

Your place is with me.

Live with faith, he said.

Trust in my words; they are true.

Find yourself in God.

Show us the Father,

then we will be satisfied.

Look at me, he said.

There's work to be done,

God's work, mine; they are the same.

You will do it too.

This, then, is glory:

together doing the work
God gives to us all.

© Ken Rookes 2017

In my Father’s house

In our imaginations, limited

and blinkered by some of the stories

that we hold so precious;

we picture a heavenly hereafter,

and make literal the metaphorical mansion,

with its many rooms, that the Jesus

of John’s gospel tells us

he must leave his friends to prepare.

Extending the metaphor, Jesus the servant-king

becomes Jesus the housemaid;

this can hardly be his meaning.

Where, then, will we find his father’s house;

where can we be at home?

Here,

among the dust. Among the struggles,

among the doubting and the tears.

Here,

in the midst of the failures;

with the anxious and the fearful,

with those who wait.

Here,

where occasional gleamings

of resurrection light flicker almost forgotten

but stubbornly; where children of hope

whisper their words of freedom

and shout against the silence;

refusing to quietly go away.

Here,

where deeds of love and grace

continue to be wastefully enacted,

and strivings for justice and generosity

seek fulfilment in peace.

Here,

where unfashionable songs are sung,

uncertain paths are trod,

and the joy is defiant;

here is the dwelling place

with its many rooms.

Nowhere else.

© 2011 Ken Rookes

I try to post my poem early in the week. This means that I may well revisit it, and make some changes. For a more definitive version, check later in the week.