From now on

Haiku for letting go.

Luke’s gospel story

has Simon owning a boat;

moved up in the world.

The fishing was poor

that day. Jesus made the boat

into a lectern.

Luke builds amazement.

Jesus directs the fishers,

tells them how to fish.

The nets are bursting

with the weight of the caught fish;

call the second boat.

Simon Peter falls

at Jesus’ feet. Leave me, Lord,

I am a sinner!

Jesus laughs, Fear not!

Come with me, and catch people

into God’s kingdom!

Four of them follow,

leaving it all to join him;

to be disciples.

© Ken Rookes 2022

Signs

Haiku for the hungry

They came seeking signs.

Were not his words sufficient?

Apparently not.

The crowd was hungry

for his words, for the healing

the signs and the hope.

There’s a food shortage;

the hunger is great, it gnaws.

Jesus must feed them.

A boy brings his lunch.

Five barley loaves and two fish.

That will not go far!

Here is mystery!

Somehow all are satisfied;

their hungers addressed.

An impressive sign!

This indeed is a prophet,

the one God has sent.

That is not a sign;

this is a sign! Jesus strides

across the lake

You want a sign? Here,

try this, he says, winking, as

he crosses the lake

Don’t be afraid, it

is I! Jesus says; his words

bringing on God’s peace.

© Ken Rookes 2021

The storm

Haiku of stillness

After a long day

telling stories, parables,

Jesus needs a break.

Suggests a boat trip.

Let us cross the lake; we can

leave the crowd behind.

He slept in the stern

as winds gathered force, and waves

beat against the boat.

They woke him. Teacher,

don’t you care that we perish?

He spoke: Peace, be still!

Rebuking the wind

and commanding the sea, he

speaks, and all is calm.

Why are you afraid?

He asked them. Where is your faith?

They were filled with awe.

Who, they ask, is this?

When our boat is being swamped

he brings us order.

Speak your word of peace

into my turmoil, Jesus;

let my waves be stilled.

© Ken Rookes 2021

It is I, don't fear

It is I, don’t fear

Haiku of uncertain faith

He had healed them,

blessed and fed, instructed them,

then he sent them home.

He stayed by himself

while his friends left in the boat

for the other side.

Finding a high place,

letting go; resting body,

communing with God.

In the boat, his friends,

battered by the wind and waves

were getting anxious.

The story tells us

he came walking through the waves.

It is I, don’t fear!

Command me to come,

if it really is yourself;

the fisherman spoke.

The word was spoken.

Bold Peter walked on water;

then fear reclaimed him.

By ourselves we sink.

Save us, Lord! we cry in fear.

His hand reaches out.

Is it his command

of storms, that prove his Sonship;

or is it his love?

© Ken Rookes 2020

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

Promise asnd hope

Haiku for the shepherdless

They came back to him,

eager, full of their stories,

telling what they did.

We all need a break,

let’s find a deserted place,

away from the crowds.

They went in a boat,

trying to get clean away;

didn’t really work.

They watched them leaving

made haste on foot, got there first

to welcome the boat.

They were a great mob,

like sheep without a shepherd.

His heart ached for them.

And so he taught them

many things. Then he fed them;

meeting their hunger.

And then they sailed on,

landed at Gennesaret;

still more people came.

Wherever he went,

from across the whole region,

they came to be healed.

He came among them

with the prospect of freedom,

a promise of hope.

© Ken Rookes 2018

Even the wind and the sea

Haiku for the storm-tossed.

When evening came

they took the boat, crossed over

to the other side.

Left the crowd behind,

looking for a brief respite.

Other boats came too.

In the stern, weary,

on a cushion, tired eyes;

Jesus falls asleep.

The wind is rising,

grows into a roaring gale;

waves are crashing in.

Fearful, they wake him.

Teacher, are you not concerned?

We could all be drowned!

Rebuking the wind

and commanding wild sea

he speaks: Peace! Be Still!

The wind dies away

and the waves cease their crashing;

Why are you afraid?

Why are you afraid​?

We’ve travelled far together;

have you still no faith?

Who, they ask, is this;

the wind is at his command,

the sea obeys him.

Words for the faithful

when all seems out of control:

Be at peace! Be still!

© Ken Rookes 2018

He came, walking towards them.

Haiku for those who sink.

He sent them ahead

by boat, to the other side.

The crowd was dismissed

Seeking solitude,

he ascended the mountain

to pray and reflect.

Out upon the lake

his friends battled wind and waves,

a long way from home.

In this strange story

he came ghost-like at morning,

caused them much alarm.

The reports tell us

that he walked across the lake.

Fear not! It is I!

Stranger still, a man

steps from the boat to join him;

does all right; at first.

Beginning to sink,

he cries in fear: Lord, save me!

Jesus takes his hand.

Is this an image

of baptism, of drowning

and rising to life?

Like the little boat

we are battered by the waves,

far from land and hope.

The waves engulf us;

We are fearful and we doubt.

Jesus, take our hand!

© Ken Rookes 2017

Asylum Boat

A painting by Rev Dr Wes Campbell 

Is Christ divided? Another boat in stormy seas, with a wall (reminiscent of the wall dividing Palestine) reminds us of the divisions and fear experienced by our sisters and brothers.

God Bless this tiny boat

Whatever floats your boat.

Wake up, Master. Don't you care? Was the miraculous rescue from the forces of nature limited to the days when Jesus was present on earth? Is God really sovereign over the cosmos, including the earth and all its elements? If so, why doesn't God stop wars? Why do children suffer from cancer? Why does hostility invade homes and splinter relationships? Why do boundaries of exclusiveness divide us over race, color, sexuality and creed?

There is a modern saying; Someone will say to you … Whatever floats your boat? It sort of means whatever keeps you alive and happy.
What is your boat? What is it that keeps you afloat in this often violent and imperfect world?
There is a poem by Australian poet and cartoonist, Michael Leunig called Love and Fear which makes the point that there are only two things that motivate us.

There are only two feelings.
Love and fear.
There are only two languages.
Love and fear.
There are only two activities.
Love and fear.
There are only two motives,
two procedures, two frameworks,
two results.
Love and fear.
Love and fear. 

For some it is fear. Fear motivated the panic of the disciples, and it motivate the bloodshed and horror of the David and Goliath, and also Saul’s response to David. The defensive power of fear can be our first response when we are surrounded by difficulties and unanswered questions and our own human weakness. 
Arguably our modern politics is motivated by fear; fear of the refugee, fear of not having enough, fear of terrorists, etc.
It is a powerful motivator. Yet Jesus tells us and shows us, that an even more powerful motivator is love, compassion, hope in the eternal power of God.

Whatever floats our boat? Let it be love. Let it be the almighty love of God.
Rev Gordon Bannon

Peace, be still!

When the boat is getting swamped

and the wind and the rain
beat against our faces and drive into our eyes;
when the news bulletins are full of fear and pain,
our leaders point their fingers
and no one takes responsibility;
when women are beaten,
children deal (or don’t) with trauma
and men set their brains aside
for the sake of chemical pleasure;
when the poor are undeserving,
the wealthy are withholding
and compassion is declared a luxury
we cannot afford;
when the weak and the vulnerable go unprotected,
their oppressors go unpunished
and we are no longer outraged by injustice;
then, Jesus,
speak again those words
you spoke to your distraught disciples,
to the out-of-control elements,
and to a planet curtained with tears:
Peace, be still!

 

© Ken Rookes 2015

A tale of two boats

Last year  I shared in the leadership of a few retreats which had me thinking about the state of the church, about our need to be honest, to face truth, and to face our feelings. I was led to a sort of playful image, a tongue in cheek symbol. Given the difficulties the church is facing, our aging church, our diminishing numbers, and our dismissing status and role in society, the symbol I chose was of feeling like we were up sh*t creek in a barbed wire canoe without a paddle.  I know it's not an optimistic vision, but it feels real. It fitted in well with the ancient image of the boat as a symbol of the church. Robin prior actually made a model of this symbol and gave it to me after one the retreats.

And that was one boat, and it is real.

But I also have another story.

I have dear friend who is a potter. His name is John and he has the soul of an artist. We regularly have lunch, share veggies and sing a few songs together. He is not a Christian, but he is a deeply spiritual man.

Sometime late last year, he began having a dream of a golden boat, and then dreamed of making such a boat. He sketched, made models, practiced the form and shape over many months. Then a month or so ago, at one of our catch ups, he proudly showed me the finished work. 

I was very impressed and moved, but it took me a couple of weeks to really begin to listen to the message.

Here, in this symbol, was something that stood in stark contrast to my barbed wire canoe, and I began to hear the divine voice speaking to me through it.

This boat is gold, and, unlike the canoe, it has many oars, it is going somewhere and has many workers, and at its centre ....is the cross, a sign of the power of grace and love and the presence of the divine at the heart of our life."

So which is the greater truth?

It is important for us to know who we really are and what we are really facing, and that is powerfully represented for me in the symbol of the barb wire canoe, but the golden boat reminded me that there is more to the church than that.

In the golden boat I am reminded that the church at her best is a precious carrier of the message of God's love and the power of grace and compassion.

So there it is folks. The tale of the two boats. I guess one of them may give us one sense of the reality of our situation, but the other, for me, is a mysterious gift of God. One which is a gift of hope and perhaps a greater truth.

Make of it what you will, but may God bless our journey together, and may just such a golden vision inspire us to be together what God would have us to be.