Proof

Haiku for believing

Sunday evening,

so the story goes; doors locked,

he comes among them.

A greeting of peace.

Perhaps this is proof enough

that he is risen.

Again he speaks peace,

breathes the Spirit upon them.

Continue my work!

Give the people hope,

Speak God’s word of forgiveness

and new beginnings.

Thomas was not there.

I must see his wounded hands

before I believe.

What proof do I need

that he lives, moves among us;

who will I believe?

Those who have not seen,

who hear my words and follow;

they are truly blessed.

John tells his story:

Know that Jesus is the Christ;

find true life in him!

© Ken Rookes 2022

Locked doors

Haiku of the first day

They were filled with fear.

They had seen their Master killed,

so they locked the doors.

In the evening

Jesus came; even locked doors

could not keep him out.

His appearances,

as one raised from death to life,

are strange, like in dreams.

Why should we expect

things to be straight forward, when

death is upended.

What really happened?

We are left to speculate,

and to imagine.

Thomas can’t believe.

Why should he? These things defy

rationality.

In time, he enters

the collective belief, that

their Lord is risen.

He breathes his Spirit

upon them. My work goes on;

Forgiveness must rule.

Evangelist John

writes his book to persuade us:

Life is in Jesus.

© Ken Rookes 2021

The purpose

Haiku of peace

John does it better!

His Jesus comes through locked doors.

Well, why shouldn't he?

Imparting Spirit,

Jesus ensures the mission

goes on without him.

Make forgiveness real,

so that all folk are made free,

capable of love.

No room for doubting!

Even Thomas is sorted,

leaving me alone.

Doubt is not opposed

to Faith; that’s the role of Fear.

Doubt and Faith are friends.

My Lord and my God!

Hey, followers of Jesus,

get on with the task!

The book is written,

John asserts, to convince us;

so that we might live.

© Ken Rookes 2020

Doubting in the dark

Haiku of unexpected hope

John the Baptiser

languishing in the dungeon;

doubting in the dark.

Sending out his friends

to find out. Are you the One

or must we still wait?

Return to John, tell

of the things you see and hear;

life in its fullness.

Tell of God’s welcome,

the outsiders who find home,

of friendship’s triumph.

Tell of the confused

who have come to understand;

lives renewed by love.

Tell of the gospel

taking root in aching hearts,

producing much fruit.

Tell of forgiveness

bringing many beginnings,

joy blended with hope.

Tell prophet-man John

that God’s reign is upon us,

and to be at peace.

© Ken Rookes 2019.

An elusive figure

Haiku for us sceptics

The risen Jesus

is an elusive figure:

now you see him. . .

From behind closed doors,

according to the story,

he appeared to them.

His greeting of peace

was not quite enough, so he

showed his hands and side.

He breathed upon them.

Receive the Holy Spirit:

go out and forgive.

Thomas was absent,

didn’t believe the reports.

I must see his wounds.

What is there to see;

what evidence sufficient

to bring us to faith?

Thank you, man of doubts,

Thomas with your questioning;

you speak for me, too.

Risen Lord Jesus,

present with those who question,

be patient with me.

What more can I say?

Should ev’ry story be told

they would fill volumes.

These have been written

that you might know God, have faith,

and life in his name.

© Ken Rookes 2018

Proof

Proof

The previously-dead Jesus meets with Thomas

and invites his sceptical friend

to extend his hand,

to touch his master's injured hands and side.

This, according to gospel-writer John,

is the incontrovertible proof

that his Lord lives.

We find it less convincing.

Nor do the various reported signs work for us

in quite the same way that they did for the evangelist.

What evidence, then,

might persuade you and I that our Lord lives?

The generous acts of his followers? Perhaps.

Loving deeds of disciples? Maybe.

Lives spent courageously for the sake of justice, hope,

and the gospel? Yes,

such as these could be sufficient

to satisfy the rest of us sceptics.

©Ken Rookes 2016

We may grow weary, but ...

"...Jesus is engaged with the world. He is the Word who was with God in the very beginning, and whose love was present in the world's birth. He is the peasant child who knew and loved the earth he walked and all those who walk with him. He is the naked, vulnerable and tortured man nailed to immovable wood and still moved with compassion for his torturers. He has died, and he is risen, and yet he comes again, to touch doubters and healers, soldiers and peasants, persecutors and apostles -- who are sometimes the same people, after all … especially after Jesus' touch.
Jesus comes to the women at his tomb and his followers huddled in fear. He comes to those who confess him and those who grieve him, miss him, or doubt him. He comes to those who love him and those who hate him. Jesus comes and he comes and he comes to this world because he is not done with this world, no matter how many times people of this world say they are done with him, or with the way of peace and compassion he walked and walks. Jesus is not done with any of us, and never will be, until we experience in the deepest part of ourselves, and are bursting alongside the whole of creation to share the wealth of love and generosity for which we and the world was made.
We may grow weary, but Jesus will not grow weary of us. We may close our eyes and forget to dream, but Jesus is alive, and still dreams with and for as well as through and among us. God is redeeming the world God made and loves, and we may as well accommodate ourselves to the love that is the most basic force of the universe. The Christ has died, the Christ has risen, and the Christ WILL come again. Let us feast now with all whom Christ loves in celebration and anticipation!

The Lord is risen! Alleluia -- and thanks be to God!"
http://srshanks.blogspot.com.au/2006_04_01_archive.html

The house with many rooms

 

At home
in the house with many rooms;
the writer of the fourth gospel
crafts a joyous and welcoming picture
of oneness with God,
(however she/he is conceived).
An image of the hereafter?
Perhaps; I used to read it that way.

At home
in a God who is called love,
and with a God at home in us.
At one with creation, generous and true,
woven into and emerging from
the dusty fibre of our fragile planet.
There may be life somewhere else,
but we do not know it.
United into the great body of humankind,
one with our neighbours, our sisters and brothers.
One in faith, one in doubt;
joined together in the shared pain,
the struggles, the tears and the fear.
Hoping anyway.

At home
in this house with many rooms;
but not quite.


© Ken Rookes 2014

Only speak

Just a question,
more a restless thought;
some might say a doubt.
Faith, doubt;
no longer convinced
there is any clear distinction.
A request in the midst
of uncertainty,
holding desperately the line
against fear
and hoping.
Perhaps.
Just a doubt,
a fear,
a hope;
a seeking after grace.
Perhaps.
Only speak
the word,
Jesus.



© Ken Rookes

Don't stop now

We set out on our journey

when the words of life were spoken.

We knew we had to travel;

we knew the world was broken

We knew we had a message

that would breathe a new-found hope,

we knew it would not be easy,

we trusted we would cope.

We left behind our cares,

our fortune and desire.

We gathered up our courage;

we would set the world on fire.

Or so we hoped and so we prayed,

we studied and we plodded.

We collected our resources

while the Spirit pushed and prodded.

We saw our destination

unfold just like a vision;

we knew we had a calling,

we knew we had a mission.

Good news for the poor, we cry;

good news of love and grace!

The light is coming, now it’s here,

it shines upon each face.

We journey in the darkness,

we journey in the night,

we dine upon the wine, the bread

set at the table, white.

Injustice casts its shadow,

we feel its dreadful threat;

we know that love will triumph,

that love’s not finished yet.

So we confront the cruelty

the oppression and the greed;

dig deep into our calling

and find the strength we need.

But bitterness won’t go away

and fearfulness persists;

we weaken and grow weary,

and still the call insists.

“Let us go,” with worn-out cry

we make our loud request.

“The journey is too difficult

we need a place to rest.”

“All these years we’ve journeyed

we’ve struggled on and on,

but no-one seems to notice

and no-one sings our song.

“And no-one seems to care,

the world has not been righted;

this kingdom’s too elusive,

it is so seldom sighted.

“All people should be saved by now,

and dwell in heavenly bliss!

There are not many left of us,

we can’t go on like this!

We cannot help but question,

we have to voice our doubt;

where is the gospel power,

where’s that hallelujah shout?

We didn’t really plan for this;

Ha, we didn’t plan at all.

No planning but a simple “yes,”

when caught inside love’s thrall.

We stand within the silence,

we wait for a reply.

The road ahead seems unconcerned,

the road behind asks, “Why?”

“Why?” and “What?” and “Can it be?”

“How can we know the way?”

We search inside the stillness

for a reason not to stay.

“Don’t stop now!” the call responds,

“Keep on the road, my friend!

You know that once you’ve started

you must see it to the end.

“You think you’ve made a sacrifice,

perhaps you have, that’s fine.

Your gifts of love are noted;

all gifts of love are mine.

“There’s beauty in your weariness,

there’s beauty in persistence.

There’s glory in defiant acts,

in grace, and truth’s resistance.

“The destination’s guaranteed,

don’t worry you can’t see it.

The journey is the place of truth

for those who choose to be it.

“This broken world’s still waiting

for my children to arrive,

to build the peace and bring the love;

to make it come alive.

“So don’t forsake the journey,

no, don’t give up the fight;

and don’t forget my Spirit’s yours;

walk in the Spirit’s light.

And though the way be painful,

and though the night be strong,

remember that you’re not alone;

come join the angels’ song

© Ken Rookes
I shared this at my last presbytery meeting on Tuesday. On reflection it seems to have some relevance to the Gospel reading for Sunday, being the first in Advent.

Every year

Every year

we hear again the story

of the sceptical dismissal

of the resurrection reports by Thomas

Every year, at least on this day,

we get to celebrate restless enquirers

and affirm their questioning.

Let us hear it for those who trepidly wear

the label of ‘agnostic;’

those honest men and women

who are willing to admit

that they simply don’t know.

They remind us all

of the sad limitations of certainty.

Hurray for all those carefully considered

unbelievers; it was god

(however she is conceived)

who gave them their enquiring minds.

They help keep the good christians on their toes

and bless them with a boundary

to their smugness.

Be grateful for Richard Dawkins

and all the other evangelising atheists;

without them our own literalisers

and fundamentalists would run

rampant and unchecked.

Every year we are prompted to rejoice

in those with reservations;

questioners, doubters,

sceptics, cynics

and all who struggle to believe.

Give thanks to your god for the dear people

whose objections keep us honest,

and who lead us once again

back to the Galilean teacher

to listen to what he really said.

© 2012 Ken Rookes

beyond Doubt

If we are willing to work through our fear and our doubts, we will find the other side of today’s Gospel that teaches us also about faith. We need also to look past this story as mere history and ask what it means. Though we have often brought to the story our judgments, I do not believe that is the main point of the story. Firstly the story is saying to us that, in the face of the reality of death, pain and despair, there does seem to be no hope. How can we believe that things can be different?

Secondly, the story is saying to the early Christians and to us, that we are blessed who have not seen and somehow come to believe this. The story does not lay judgment on us or Thomas for our questions. It does however; ask us to believe in the ultimate power of life over death, of love over hatred, of hope over despair. It does not ask us to get caught up in a theological/scientific argument about the nature of the resurrection! That is about a mere once off miracle. It does ask us to go beyond that to know the truth of what the resurrection means to us.

What that means for us is that we need no longer live in the valley of despair, but can rise above that to believe in the power of God to bring new life where we have only seen and known death. 

Thomas Christians

"According to legend, “doubting Thomas” eventually traveled to India , sharing the good news in a very different religious environment. To this day, a group of Indian Christians refer to themselves as “Thomas Christians.” Truly, doubt gives birth to transformation and courage when we faithfully wait for the right moment, when God’s truth awakens us to a new vision of reality. Doubts will always remain and emerge from time to time, but we will know that doubt is itself a doorway to experiencing God’s presence in our life. Doubt may even be the space that makes room for resurrection faith.  In our faithful doubt, we will make room for the seekers in our community and the seeker in ourselves."

see http://stthomaschurch-sa.org/santhome.aspx

one element of faith

Paul Tillich

Doubt is not the opposite of faith; it is one element of faith."

"The old faith must die, eaten away by doubts, but only so that a new and deeper faith may be born."

Doubt

Dostoyevsky – "My hosanna was wrought in the crucible of doubt'