Bread from heaven

Haiku for the hungry

We’re hungry, Moses.

More than hungry, we’re starving,

here in the desert.

Why did you bring us

to this barren place? We had

good food in Egypt.

We might have been slaves

but we never starved to death.

You’re killing us here!

God heard the complaints;

Fair enough, I’ll give them food,

teach them how to trust.

God had an answer.

I’ll rain down bread from heaven.

You can gather it.

Just collect enough

for each day. Don’t be greedy;

trust for the new day.

Except the sixth day;

gather enough food for two,

rest on the seventh.

There will be meat, too.

At evening quails arrived,

and with the dawn, bread.

‘Twasn’t strictly bread;

flakey stuff, cov’ring the ground,

but you could eat it.

In desert places

you have to keep trusting God.

That was the message.

Ken Rookes 2023

Difficult teaching

Haiku for the troubled

Come, eat my flesh! The

literally-minded folk

take extreme offence.

What is his meaning,

this claim to be bread for all;

the bread who gives life?

The words that I speak

brings life to your spirit; yet

not all will believe.

Even disciples

are troubled. This difficult

teaching troubles them.

Some of them decamped.

He asks the twelve, Do you wish

to turn back also?

Simon Peter speaks:

To whom can we go? Your words

alone lead to life.

We have known you, Lord;

We see your words are true, that

you are sent from God.

© Ken Rookes 2021

Life for the whole world

 

Haiku for disputation

I am bread that lives

and gives life to the whole world;

life that comes from God.

He offends them, this

Johannine Jesus; speaking

of his flesh and blood.

Only Eucharist

can make sense of these sayings.

That, and his dying.

True food, and true drink,

my very self in flesh, blood;

I am here for you.

Eat of me; take me

deeply inside you, find me

in all your living

Take me deep within;

my body, blood, and my words.

You shall truly live.

You, who are my friends,

I live in you, you in me;

multiplying life.

© Ken Rookes 2021

Bread that is true

Haiku for hungry people

The persistent crowds

seek Jesus, boarding their boats

to sail after him.

You’re looking for me

because I fed you with loaves;

but you’re still hungry.

Bread for the belly

lasts but hours. Seek God’s bread,

feeding the spirit.

The bread that is true,

far better than Moses gave,

comes from the Father.

Sir, give us this bread

always; each, every day

feed us with your life.

I am bread for life,

says the Johannine Jesus;

come, believe in me.

Trust the things I say,

do the things I’m telling you:

so fulfil God’s work.

You, who are hungry,

and you who thirst for fullness,

hear my words and live.

 

© Ken Rookes 2021

 

© Ken Rookes 2021

Recognition

Haiku for opened eyes

They did not know him

the perplexed pair walking home

to Emmaus.

They’d heard the reports

from the women at the tomb;

struggled to believe.

The stranger listened,

then spoke to their confusion;

The Christ must suffer.

They pressed him to stay,

Come in and share some tucker.

They passed him some bread.

The recognition!

Then he was gone. They raced back

to Jerusalem.

Jesus, let us see

and recognise your presence

as we share the bread.

Let us see your face,

Lord; and journey as comrades

towards your kingdom.

© Ken Rookes 2020

A lesson in prayer

Haiku of generosity

Lord, teach us to pray.

A request from disciples

eager to know more.

He tells a story

of a nocturnal knocking,

requesting three loaves.

Don’t ask me for bread;

that is far too much trouble!

(This could not happen!)

The story’s hearers

would have laughed in disbelief.

Quite impossible!

Hospitality’s

demands for generousness

are laid before us.

This lesson in prayer

offers one decisive point:

God is generous

When we come in prayer

to God we can be assured:

God is here for us.

© Ken Rookes 2019

Living bread

Haiku of eternal life

I am living bread,

Jesus says in John’s gospel.
Eat, live for ever.

The leaders dispute.

How can this man give his flesh

that people might eat?

I tell you truly,

Jesus says, Life is in me,

take me deep within.

In these words we find

eucharistic overtones:

Come to the table.

My flesh is true food,

and my blood is true drink: Take,

eat, and drink of me.

Who partake of me,

live in me; and I abide

in them. We are one.

The Father sent me.

The life I have is from God;

I share it with you.

The bread from heaven

gives life that is fair dinkum.

Come to me and eat.

© Ken Rookes 2018

Give us this bread

Haiku for those who hunger.

The crowd found some boats

and crossed the lake to find him,

at Capernaum.

Is it for the signs

or because you ate your fill

that you’re seeking me?

Food that perishes

is worthless; the Son of Man

gives the food that lasts.

His food leads to life.

His word brings life eternal;

God’s seal rests on him.

They asked for a sign,

that they might have faith in him.

Like the desert bread.

In the wilderness

your forebears ate God’s manna;

this too, did not last.

The true bread from God

comes from heaven to the earth,

gives life to the world.

Give this bread to us,

they said, not really knowing

what it is they ask.

I am living bread.

Come, you need never hunger,

nor do you need thirst.

© Ken Rookes 2018

Emmaus

Haiku of recognition

A couple of hours

to Emmaus; much talking

trying to make sense.

Two friends, followers;

their hopes had been swept away

when their master died.

The stranger caught up.

What are you talking about

as you walk the road?

How come you don’t know;

where have you been these days past?

The fear and turmoil.

We had been hoping

that he might be God’s promised;

and then he was killed.

Three days have now passed.

Some women went to the tomb;

his body was gone.

It’s got us flummoxed;

we don’t know what to believe;

not sure what to think.

It isn’t so hard.

What do the prophets tell us?

The Christ must suffer.

Starting with Moses,

and picking up the prophets,

he explained it all.

When they reached their house

it was getting dark. Stay here;

spend the night with us.

At table that night

he blessed the bread and broke it.

They recognised him.

Then he disappeared.

They were amazed, rejoicing.

Did not our hearts burn?

© Ken Rookes 2018

Emmaus

Haiku for an uncertain journey

For a few hours

Emmaus was the centre

of the universe.

Might as well go home,

the two said to eachother.

They had no idea.

An empty journey

devoid of joy, without hope.

Unanswered questions.

Friday's agonies,

Saturday's devastations;

now Sunday's stories.

How shall we believe,

what is left for us to hope,

when will we be healed?

The stranger asks them,

What are you talking about;

what troubles your hearts?

He speaks patiently,

arranging jig-saw pieces

to make the picture.

The falling darkness

leads to an invitation;

he is urged to stay.

The stranger takes bread,

breaks, and passes it around.

Their eyes are opened.

© Ken Rookes 2017

Difficult Words Haiku

Eat my flesh, he says,

as if it’s a normal thing;

this deep mystery.

Living forever;

the reward for believers.

Is there something more?

The spirit makes life,

he told those who would listen.

The flesh, conversely.

His difficult words

drove many away. Not me;

there is no other.

The fisherman spoke

for us all. Your words are life:

where else can we go?

© Ken Rookes 2015

I am the bread of life

 

We take these words

and fashion them into a ritual.
A ritual meal of great beauty,
layered and filled with meaning
and mystery; which is almost certainly
what the writer had in mind.
Flesh is made bread.
 
The wheat is ground,
mixed, kneaded,
and baked in an oven. It emerges,
crusty and smelling of friendship.
So we tear the loaves in two,
break off pieces,
and share them.
 
And somehow, in this bread
and in the wine that accompanies it,
we take into the essence of our selves
the words the Teacher spoke,
the compassion, grace, and love he enacted.
Along with the power of his giving,
his sacrifice.
 
And somehow,
in this invitation to gather
at his table,
we are also invited to see with his eyes
and to behold the kingdom;
a world that may yet be transformed
by justice, hope and peace.
 
Somehow.
And in these fragments,
small, humble, broken,
we receive this man;
not to mention
his outrage
and his tears.
 

 

© Ken Rookes 2015

Give us this bread always

 

They ask for signs,

but fail to embrace
the sign that was given.
They were in happy agreement
when it was all about eating
and feeding upon crusty loaves.
On those days belief came easy
and their hearts had surged,
hoping, expectant.
But seeking, receiving and dining
on the food that endures for eternal life,
(whatever that means),
is another thing entirely.
 
Give us this bread always.
The request comes easily,
with eager, outstretched hands,
but few opt to stay around
to receive the answer.
And the sign,
despite its stark simplicity,
perhaps because of it,
is passed by, unnoticed and ignored.
Mostly.
 

 

 

© Ken Rookes 2015

Hungers

To get away from the multitudes

and their expectations
the man called Bread
withdraws to the hills.
 
Having eaten their fill,
the crowd still wants more.
They intend to make him king,
to claim him as their hero-leader;
that he might feed them when they are hungry,  
heal them when they are sick,
and deliver them victory over their enemies.
 
Instead he gives them a handful of words:
crumbs of bread to fill them with hope,
and morsels of love to overcome their fears.
Then he offers them platters
laden with small parcels of his own strange life;
topped with generously with sacrifice.
 
None of these  dishes will prove sufficient
to satisfy the imagined hungers of the crowd.
 

 

 

© Ken Rookes 2015

Unthinkable

You tell your kids as they grow older;
anytime, it does not matter.
We do not measure inconvenience,
nor will we mention it again.
We will leave our bed and we will come,
if that is what is needed,
to ensure that you will arrive safely home.
It is unthinkable that we should refuse.
Unthinkable, in the story Jesus told,
that a friend should decline
to embrace a minor inconvenience
for the sake of a simple request,
to fulfil the claims of hospitality
and to avoid shame.
Thus is delivered
bread for a hungry traveller.
Unthinkable that the Creator-Spirit God
should be too busy to listen,
should fail to love,
or should withhold
God’s Spirit-presence.
Unthinkable.

© Ken Rookes 2013

Stop waiting for bread to fall from the sky (or fish)

God tells us, "Not me but you; not my bread but yours; not sometime or somewhere else but right here and now.... Stop waiting for food to fall from the sky and share what you have. Stop waiting for a miracle and participate in one instead." Bread, a simple and most necessary thing--both physically and spiritually--is indeed a powerful thing, and the sharing of it is at the heart of our life together in the church.

“ ‘Man, my friends,’ said General Loewenhielm, ‘ is frail and foolish.  We have all of us been told that grace is to be found in the universe.  But in our human foolishness and shortsightedness we imagine divine grace to be finite.  For this reason we tremble…’ Never till now had the General stated that he trembled; he was genuinely surprised and even shocked at hearing his own voice proclaim the fact. ‘ We tremble before making our choice in life, and after having made it again tremble in fear of having chosen wrong.  But the moment comes when our eyes are opened, and we see and realize that grace is infinite.  Grace, my friends, demands nothing from us but that we shall await it with confidence and acknowledge it in gratitude.  Grace, brothers, makes no conditions and singles out none of us in particular; grace takes us all to its bosom and proclaims general amnesty.  See! That which we have chosen is given us, and that which we have refused is, also and at the same time, granted us.  Aye, that which we have rejected is poured upon us abundantly.  For mercy and truth have met together, and righteousness and bliss have kissed one another!’ “  

                                                        --Babette’s Feast -Isak Dinesen

'we who eat the bread'

“ ... But we who eat the bread when we come in

Out of the cold and dark know it is a deeper mystery

That brings the bread to rise:

It is the love and faith

Of large and lonely women, moving like floury clouds

In farmhouse kitchens, that rounds the loaves and the lives

Of those around them ...

Just as we know it is hunger –

Our own and others’ – that gives all salt and savor to bread ...”

Thomas McGrath

In the breaking of bread

In the breaking of bread

the Lord is known.

The human-shaped God

takes the hospitality of heaven in his hands

and distributes it to his friends.

“This is for you,” he says

looking into the eyes of the hungry.

“This food is me. Take me deep inside

your eyes, your head, your heart and your belly.

Take me into your dreams and your struggles,

your fears and your waking thoughts.

Take me deep into your cryings

and your rejoicings. Take me as you journey

towards the wonder of love

and the mystery of grace.

Find me deep within your sharings,

your yearnings, your laughings,

and the fullness of your life together.

See me with you in the loneliness of dark night

and when you close your eyes

against the blinding light.

See me; even when I disappear.

This is for you,”

he says.

Ken Rookes