The empty tomb

Haiku of surprise

Mark gives us terror,

confusion, with the women

fleeing from the tomb.

Mary Magdalene,

much maligned, was there for him,

in life and in death.

The first day, early,

both Marys and Salome

went to anoint him.

We have the spices,

but who will remove the stone

that we may enter?

They came to the tomb;

the stone had been rolled away.

A man in white spoke.

No need for alarm!

You seek Jesus who was killed;

he’s not here, he lives!

Tell his disciples,

Peter too; they will find him

there, in Galilee.

They were terrified,

the women. They fled the scene

and spoke to no one.

© Ken Rookes 2024

The tomb

Haiku of surprise

Stories of wonder

seeking to give shape and form

to deep mysteries.

Early on day one,

still dark, the Magdalene came,

to visit his tomb.

The large stone employed

as a door had been removed.

Mary is distressed.

She ran to tell them:

They have taken his body;

we do not know where.

It was as she said;

the tomb was empty, only

the linen remained.

Mary, weeping, stayed

at the tomb. Two angels asked:

Why are you weeping?

My Lord is taken.

I know not where he lies, or

what’s been done to him.

A stranger enquires:

Why do you weep? She asks him:

Tell me where he is.?

The man speaks: Mary!.

Her weeping eyes are opened.

Rabbouni! Teacher!

As per instructions

Mary found his disciples

I have seen the Lord!

The resurrection

reports begin; a woman

and an empty tomb.

© Ken Rookes 2021

The tomb's emptiness

Haiku without limits

The tomb’s emptiness,

underlined by an earthquake.

Still confounding us.

Two faithful women,

don’t need spices as a prop,

visiting the tomb.

Its all a bit much!

An angel is sent to clear

away confusion.

The stone has been rolled

and the guards have all fainted.

Do not be afraid!

Instructions follow.

Come and see, then go and tell:

Your Lord has been raised!

Fear mixes with joy,

strangeness and uncertainty.

What are we to think?

Suddenly he’s here.

Do not fear! Go, tell my friends

We will meet again.

© Ken Rookes 2020

Sunday. The first Day

Sunday. The first day.

Haiku for upending

Sunday. The first day.

The sun returns from beyond;

light chases darkness.

They come to the tomb,

the women, aching, faithful,

to honour their friend.

Bringing their spices

they come to prepare his corpse;

their duty of love.

The stone had been moved.

The open entrance calls them;

Come, see my surprise!

The tomb is empty,

His broken body is gone,

spirited away.

Two men, shining bright

in robes that dazzle the eyes,

come and address them.

Why look in a tomb?

The one you seek is alive!

Remember his words.

The women returned,

(there were at least five of them),

but they weren’t believed.

Peter, however,

wanted to see for himself,

and ran to the tomb.

Only the grave-clothes

were there to be seen. Peter

returned home, amazed.

A tomb that’s empty,

a man no longer present:

should we doubt or hope?

How shall we respond

to this story of wonder,

and to he who lives?

© Ken Rookes 2019

The Sabbath had passed

Haiku of hope and celebration.

The sabbath had passed,

here they come with tearful eyes

to tend his body.

Three of the women,

bring their spices to the tomb

along with their love.

The sun had risen,

the darkness was at its end:

lots of metaphors.

Of the entrance stone

they questioned each other: Who

will roll it away?

The tomb was open,

the stone already rolled back!

Nothing to stop them!

Entering the tomb

there is nothing to be seen;

at least no body.

A man, dressed in white

with his most puzzling words;

Do not be alarmed!

Jesus? He’s not here.

There is the place they laid him;

he’s been raised to life.

Go inform his friends!

The women flee in terror

and keep their mouths shut.

© Ken Rookes

A group of Easter haiku

Third day Haiku

It is the third day.

The Sabbath has concluded:

now we anoint him.

Empty tomb haiku

The tomb is empty.

Nothing will be found inside;

except mystery.

The women: Haiku

Returning, they spoke

of what they had heard and seen.

No one believed them.

Idle tale haiku

The women's story:

not taken seriously

when they told the men.

Mary. A haiku.

Mary Magdalene;

witness to the empty tomb.

Can this mean he lives?.

© Ken Rookes 2016

Ascension

 

The way Luke tells the story
in his two-volumed tome,
the ascension and resurrection of our Lord
was really the one event, neatly book-ended
by the two men dressed in dazzling white
who sneak up suddenly beside the disciples.
I presume that the need for two figures
is to avoid the possibility that, if there were only one,
he might confused with the risen Lord himself.
Handy with their rhetorical questions,
the men become a useful literary device,
proceeding to explain to Jesus’ followers
what is really happening.
The ascension is an awkward story, really;
necessitated by a physical resurrection,
and the subsequent need to dispose of a body.
This, in turn, is required by Luke and Matthew
to give apparent substance to the reality and wonder
of divine presence,
experienced long beyond the days
when Jesus walked and worked and lived among them,
recklessly living out his message of all-conquering love.
It is experienced still.
John does not concern himself with the ascension,
and Mark, at least in his shorter ending,
is prepared to settle for the ambiguity
of an empty tomb.

© Ken Rookes

Whose every breath

One day,
it is admittedly unlikely,
a clever archaeologist
may dig up Jesus’ bones.
This will cause much consternation,
the reports of an empty tomb being the one detail
about which the four gospel writers
are in complete agreement.
Still, the inability to locate a corpse
will never be adequate proof
of resurrection.

So, what is;
what might convince a sharp
and enquiring mind
that Jesus is truly alive?
Surely it is his disciples,
those in whom his spirit dwells;,
people who have taken deep inside themselves
his living words of generosity and forgiveness,
whose activities thoughts, attitudes, politics
and whose every breath testifies
to his undying love.

© Ken Rookes 2013

Ending at verse eight.

The first gospel to be written

is also the shortest. By far.

Especially the ending.

A bit of an embarrassment, really;

certainly for second and third century

scribes and copyists who couldn’t resist

the temptation to improve on the original.

Can’t blame them, though; verse eight

is hardly the place where we would want to leave

the bewildered Marys and Salome;

faithful women who went to anoint

the body of their Lord.

Of course they fled

in fear, terror and amazement;

who wouldn’t

after hearing the impossible news

from the equally unlikely young man

robed in improbable white?

Keep it to yourselves, ladies;

the time will come when the risen Lord will be seen,

the confusion will end,

and the others will know,

and everyone will celebrate

and shout and dance

and write their own resurrection verses.

Millions of them!

Looking ahead to Sunday!

© Ken Rookes