Not unless I see

Haiku of growing hope.

Sunday evening.

The disciples locked the doors,

fearing they were next.

The women’s stories

which might have brought them some hope

went disregarded.

Jesus came and stood

before them: Peace be with you!

His friends were perplexed.

He shows them his hands

to help put their minds at ease.

Yeah, right; that’ll work!

There is rejoicing

along with bewilderment.

The stories were true‽

He sends his friends out,

breathing his Spirit, charging

them to forgive sin.

The absent Thomas,

could not believe that he lives.

Not unless I see!

Seven days later,

so John tells us, Jesus came,

to meet them once more.

Here I am, Thomas!

See the nail-marks in my hands,

touch my wounded side.

Falling to his knees

Thomas cries: My Lord, my God!

Finally convinced.

You see and believe?

Blessed are those who believe

who don’t get to see!

Jesus did much more.

Were the stories written down

they would fill volumes.

© Ken Rookes 2019

Struggling to believe

Haiku for faithful doubters

Thomas, called the Twin,

wasn't there with the others,

struggled to believe.

The resurrection;

life constructed out of death,

the seed bursting forth.

Jesus reaches out,

speaks words of acceptance, life;

inviting us all.

Thank you, friend Thomas,

for your precious gifts to us,

your doubts and struggles.

Jesus shows us faith,

Thomas teaches honest doubt.

We need both of them.

Embrace your questions.

Faith is not opposed by doubt;

no, but by fear.

© Ken Rookes 2017

Shepherds and doors

 

So many doors,
colours, sizes, shapes;
some swing from the left,
others from the right,
some slide.
Inwards opening,
outwards swinging;
so many choices.
Which doors are for me?
Will it be the journey within,
beyond,
or both?

The fourth gospel
designates the Good Shepherd as the gate,
a door through which
his sheep might enter into life.
When I passed through that door,
many years ago,
I was told by some earnest sisters and brothers
that there were certain doors
to be avoided for fear of one’s eternal life.
These well-meaning friends insisted
that those who travel through such doors
will be lost.

So many doors,
so many dangers.
I went through one anyway.
Had to;
too many questions,
too many doubts.
And maybe,
just perhaps,
notwithstanding all the warnings,
it was the Shepherd
who was waiting at the other side.

© Ken Rookes 2014

Questioning Thomas?

It seems that many adults in the church have never had the benefit of an environment which encouraged searching faith. Some persons are forced out of the church during this state and, sadly, some never return; others remain in searching faith the rest of their lives. In any case, we must remember that persons with searching faith still need to have all the needs of experienced and dependent faith met, even though they may appear to have cast them aside. In spite of his questions, Thomas remained with the disciples. There he discovered the answers to his questions. 

Our congregations are filled with Thomases. Thomas’ faith reminds us that living in community in spite of our doubts is the only way we can find the truth that will sustain us. In such moments, we may lean on the faith of others, knowing that God’s love does not depend on our orthodoxy or certainty.

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."

http://processandfaith.org/resources/lectionary-commentary/yeara/2005-04-03/2nd-sunday-easter

Disciples of the outer-circle

Let me join you, Thomas,
out here in the outer-circle of disciples;
along with other questioners and doubters.
Here I shall make my home
among those for whom creedal recitations
and orthodox affirmations
seem increasingly less relevant.
(Discipleship, we all know, has only one test.)
Our wonderings will be loud,
and our speculations wild and free;
none shall be offended,
perhaps not even God.
In our outer-circle orbit, always at risk,
we will repeat the stories and tell new ones,
and do our best to love into reality
the kingdom of which the Master spoke.
Defying the sadness and the fear
we will announce in word and deed
the mysterious presence of He who died.
I like to think that we would do so
even if the tomb had not been emptied;
and, if, one day,
the Master’s earthly remains were to be found,
it would make no difference.

© Ken Rookes, 2014

They drove him out

 

They drove him out of the Temple;
the unnamed man, who,
according to John, had been born blind.
Now, with the wondrous gift of sight,
he could not be less concerned;
he has no desire to ever go back,
and he won’t.
The Temple no longer has what he needs;
he will manage without it. In turn,
the Temple will have to get on without him;
and all the others, who,
over the millennia,
have been dismissed from its hallowed courts.
The Temple has been adept
at expelling embarrassments;
those who no longer recite the creeds,
who ask their awkward questions
and dare to give shape to their doubts.
Preferring the elusive uncertainty of truth,
whatever its unexpected contours,
they despise the Temple’s promise
of security and comfort.
They would rather die outside the walls
than live the delusions within.
Do your worst, Temple;
drive them all out.
Nobody cares
anymore.

© Ken Rookes 2014

Be tempted

How like you, Jesus,
to claim the moral high ground.
You say you choose the better way
over the easier way;
do they have to be mutually exclusive?
Besides, in our opinion, least resistance
is generally under-rated.
If you have the power, why not use it?
Who cares? They’ll make you king, anyway;
it can be our little secret,
no one else need know.
Our little secret on the way to world peace;
you could make it happen,
if you wanted to.
What makes your way better?
Can you be sure,
and how do you measure the outcomes?
Compromise and pragmatic solutions
have always been the order of the day;
lofty ideals are all very well
but the economy surely can’t afford them.
It’s a low-percentage plan, Jesus;
won’t convince anybody.
Go on; be tempted.

© Ken Rookes 2014

powerful doubting

"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. If we are honest in our relationships with one another, we can experience mutual support in learning to believe what we cannot easily see. Based on our life with God in the body of Christ, we can recognize the power of the Holy Spirit at work among us, providing new possibilities that can move us beyond doubt and fear and anxiety and psychological paralysis. We will learn that through the power of God, miracles happen—that which we would doubt possible can come to reality. Dreams can be fulfilled, forgiveness offered, obstacles overcome, pain relieved, sickness healed, hunger fed, spiritual longings relieved, good brought from evil, love experienced in all the Easter glory of the risen Christ."
 http://christchurchcathedralbahamas.com/worship-messages-30.html

On viewing the Elias series.

Kiwi, Colin McCahon,

most misunderstood

of all New Zealand artists,

mixed his palate of doubt and faith

and spread it over his courageous

canvases half a century ago.

No-one cared much.

Strong colours, bold lines

and challenging words to respond

to the story of his Lord’s last hours,

suspended from a cross and waiting

for the end.

The crowd waited, too,

for something to happen.

Story tellers Matthew and Mark

report that Jesus’ cry of dereliction,

uttered in Aramaic,

was misinterpreted as a call to Elijah

to come and save him. The crowd

got a little excited in anticipation:

Let be; let us see; will he come?

But no-one came, certainly not Elijah.

And so Jesus died.

Colin continued to paint his questioning

canvases, offering his own voice

for others who also question, doubt,

wonder, and half believe.

Who is this man who bleeds and dies?

These words that he painted

on the canvas of his living,

which are the ones that we need to hear?

What will happen to the one

whom God has abandoned;

and what has he to do with me?

© Ken Rookes 2011

Nicodemus

Late at night we become emboldened

and allow deep-within doubts

to glimpse, as it were,

the light of day.

So the teacher of Israel comes

in darkness to talk with the man

whose words glimmer

like a lake beneath a full moon.

A staccato celebration of questions,

a shimmer of provocations,

gleaming surprises,

and glistening affirmations;

of sparkling water, rushing wind,

and life.

©Ken Rookes