But what of the Poor?

Haiku of poured-out love

Ah, Lord Jesus,

how to show my love for you,

what to make it real?

The very costly

ointment of nard spills over

his face and his hair

Splashed with abandon

in a profound act of love.

A perfumed present.

Loving is costly.

Effort, commitment, struggle;

also many tears.

But what of the poor?

Yes, of course, we all must spend

love upon them, too.

This woman has done

something beautiful for me;

for my burial.

Will I love this way,

with my naked heart exposed,

accepting the pain?

© Ken Rookes 2020

Posting for Palm Sunday, Narrative Lectionary;  Mark's version of the Anointing at Bethany

Portents in the skies

Haiku for the watchful

Let the walls crumble!

The temple no longer serves;

welcome the new thing!

Portents in the skies.

How we love to speculate,

what does it all mean?

Don’t be led astray.

Test their claims; do they measure

up to love’s standard?

Coming in the clouds!

Expectations have worn thin

in two millennia.

Is it really near?

Is the Son of Man coming

to end history?

These understandings

from two thousand years ago;

are we bound by them?

Everything passes.

His words remain to give life,

calling us to love.

Be watchful with love.

Be eager in your serving.

This is faithfulness.

Midnight or cockcrow

or at dawn, it matters not

if love is your guide.

© Ken Rookes 2020

Some haiku for teh Narrative lectionary, Lent 5

Riding a donkey

Haiku for an uncertain entrance.

Riding a donkey

defiantly confronting;

they do not like it.

Cry out with the throng,

make with your loud hosannas.

Return in five days.

Here he comes! Jesus

with his words of costly love;

we do not want them.

Beware, you who rule,

serving powerful interests:

Jesus is coming!

© Ken Rookes 2019

Angels in the wilderness

This edition of the River of Life we are focussing on the journey towards Easter that we call Lent. Our scripture at the beginning of that Lenten journey is the Gospel story Jesus in the wilderness (often called the Temptation). This story has always been one of my favourites in scripture. It is full of danger and temptation, but underneath it all it is a story about the quest for meaning. Jesus is being faced with the core question that faces us all… ‘How will we spend our life?’ The temptation story is full of power and passion, danger and potential violence. The story in Mark only rates one verse but we are familiar with the expanded versions in the other gospels which make it clear that in the wilderness he faced the darkness of the world embodied in the Devil or ‘the Tempter’. And so in Lent we have often also focussed on our own temptations and out own darkness. Yet in all these years of reading about Jesus in the wilderness I missed the angels!

Jesus spends a self-imposed, agonising time of self-examinatio

n in the wilderness but he is accompanied not only by his lonely questions but he is also attended by angels. In fact in our version from Mark the angels are just as present as Satan. Unlike the other gospel writers Mark rarely refers to angels at all yet they are important in this story. Lent can be a time to take stock of our lives, to come clean about the things that tempt us and the things that scare us. It can be a very helpful time of self-examination but in the midst of this deep time the angels are a reminder that we are not alone. God promises to be with us in the wild, lonely places of our lives and God promises to bring us blessing out of these deep times.

I must say also that many people regard parts of our beautiful presbytery as being wilderness. For me Loddon Mallee contains a lot of wild open spaces, big wonderful skies and vast horizons and, if we choose to accept it, spaces to reflect and be. And that our Presbytery is ministered to by angels I have no doubt. I meet them all the time, but I need eyes and a heart to know them. I invite you to make this Lent a time to recount the angels you have known and the ones who currently attend you, the ones who attend you in your wilderness times. I read an article recently that referred to the angels, in the words of William Sloan Coffin, as the one who remind us that there "is more grace in God than sin in us."

So this Lent I invite you use the time as a time for an inner journey of reflection and the search for meaning, but be reminded that in doing so that you too, like Jesus, are being ministered to by angels, both human and Divine.

Rev Gordon Bannon
painting by Cheryle Bannon at https://cherylebannon.com/

Just Jesus

Haiku of bedazzlement

Upon a mountain

a man with his closest friends,

seeking some answers.

A lighting display

worthy of the harbour bridge

on new year’s eve.

They gasp in wonder,

dazzled, those three companions;

what does it all mean?

Two guests from the past,

Elijah stands with Moses,

prophet stands with law.

Its all about light,

from above, in our darkness,

shining hope and love.

In the cloud of light,

the voice of affirmation;

he will be the one.

Fade to normal light.

They are alone, just Jesus

standing with his friends.

Once more to the plain

they descend with their master.

Tell no-one; for now!

© Ken Rookes 2018.

To the God of the Godless

When I had tired of the wars around me

Longing for forgetfulness, the softness of arms and breasts,

I could not close my ears to the thunder of the living.

But tonight history has ceased to cry out within me.

My white flag of truce is hoisted, my arms are thrown to the ground,

My back is turned to the cannon and here I surrender.

The hunger of generations is nothing now? Nothing.

The brotherhood of heroes? The knowledge of vast constellations?

I have rejected my vision and renounced prophecy.

Love is the final quality, love and not courage.

Not the love of the Gentiles, the crucified love of disciples,

But the love of my love; it has silenced a thousand poems.

I have sought peace in war, serenity in struggle, pity in hatred.

I shall search no longer, the lights are turned down.

Only faintly, faintly, I still hear the marching step of the unborn,

Feet, feet, moving, moving.

‑ DAVID MARTIN

We are dust

“We are dust”:

We are dust in pain.

The light shines through us

as through-wave spray, dust of water

breaking, or the falling rain.  Ursula Le Guin

Guerrillas of Grace.

For those who don’t know me too well, I am an avid gardener. A few years ago I heard about a new movement in gardening called “Guerrilla gardening” which is the practice of finding a public space which has been left to go to ruin and resurrecting it into a beautiful new garden. The ‘guerrilla’ part of it is that it is done without asking permission of local council’s etc. One of the catch cries of the movement is “Let’s fight the filth with forks and flowers!” The idea appeals to the rebel in me but also it attracted me on a spiritual level. I feel that it is a very ‘God-centred’ action to play a part in turning ruin into beauty.

I also love to buy books of poetry and prayers and I recently ran across a prayer book by Ted Loader called ‘Guerrillas of Grace – prayers for the battle’ (book which was originally printed 20 years ago). In the foreword he says “The notion of guerrillas seems to be rooted in the ancient Judeo-Christian tradition. The Old Testament prophets can easily be conceived of as guerrillas doing battle with the established powers of their day… Jesus was the pre-eminent guerrilla of grace; he confronted repressive institutions and liberated captive minds and hearts with his words and his life.” In reality I believe that there is nothing more subversive than the power of grace. Grace is taking the loving action in an unexpected place and time.

And there are so many issues on which can today be guerrillas of grace as Christians in the modern world. When the churches stand alongside the refugee and pronounce the church building as a place of sanctuary, or when we make a public stand in protest against government policies that turn away genuine asylum seekers, then we are being guerrillas of God’s grace. When we pray for our enemies instead of taking on the public rhetoric of hate, we are being guerrillas of grace. When the church resists being just another institution, but instead seeks to be place of honesty, integrity, of vulnerable open hearts seeking to live lives of compassion, mercy and justice; then we are being guerrillas of God’s grace.

And internally, within the church; when we live our lives differently with each other and seek to become a community who truly love each other, despite our differences, our imperfections and our brokenness; a community that sees Christ in each other; then we are being guerrillas of grace in perhaps the most difficult place. As Leunig says in one of his prayers, “Love one another! It is as simple and as difficult as that.” In my experience, the church is a place in which we need this more than ever.

In this Lenten time, when we are called upon to examine ourselves a little more closely, perhaps we have the opportunity to try out being Guerrillas of God’s grace. Come-on! Be a little subversive!

Blessings

Rev Gordon Bannon 

Jerusalem Lament

Jerusalem Lament.

Unconcerned Jesus,

ignoring the monarch's threats;

he will not retreat.

Jesus the reckless,

challenging Herod the fox;

continues his work.

He is on his way.

His calling nears fulfilment.

Next, Jerusalem.

Sad Jerusalem!

City of wailing and death;

here's one more prophet.

Mother-hen Jesus

weeping for the absent ones;

those who will not come.

Watch! One is coming,

touched by the divine Spirit;

you will cry 'blessed!'

© Ken Rookes 2016

Donkeys

Donkeys

In Willowra

languorous donkeys make their way

along the paved roads and unsealed streets,

chomping on their grassy tucker.

They move at an easy pace.

Sometimes they stroll across invisible boundaries,

disturbing packs of proprietorial dogs

These rouse themselves from shaded slumber,

to dustily defend their family’s territory

by chasing the offending beasts away.

The two-legged inhabitants of this community,

unlike their canine companions,

mostly leave the donkeys alone.

Like all of their kind,

the donkeys of Willowra

prefer a quiet life.

In Bethpage, near Jerusalem,

the colt of a donkey was, for a time,

wrenched from its stillness

and prevailed upon to carry a man into the city.

The procession was noisy,

with flourished cloaks and branches

thrown excitedly upon the road

in front of the shy, equine creature;

all the way to the temple.

A few hours later it was all over.

The colt was dismissed

and allowed to return to his gentle ruminations.

For the man who rode him,

the ruckus had just begun.

© Ken Rookes 2015.

Lifted

He was elevated.

It was not for the purposes of admiration or acclaim;

a strange glorification.

The crudely fashioned wooden platform

is no pedestal.

What, then, shall we call it,

this instrument of shame and death;

conveniently named for its shape

rather than its purpose? No matter,

the two have been conflated

over the millennia.

There is, however, no convenience in death.

No, that is not true.

It is all a matter

of where you are standing.

Lifted from the earth,

three metres, four at the most,

anchored to earth’s rocks and dust

not by nails driven cruelly into timber,

but by cords;

willing ribbons of love.

© Ken Rookes 2015.

Lent Video

"at Lent God speaks and acts in ways that are different from the ways of the world, and different from what I might expect or notice if I don't pay careful attention.

Immersion
There is anger abroad in the world, a numb thunder,
because of God's silence. But how naive,
to keep wanting words we could speak ourselves,
English, Urdu, Tagalog, the French of Tours,
the French of Haiti.

Yes, that was one way omnipotence chose
to address us-Hebrew, Aramaic, or whatever the patriarchs
chose in their turn to call what they heard. Moses
demanded the word, spoken and written. But perfect freedom
assured other ways of speech. God is surely
patiently trying to immerse us in a different language,
events of grace, horrifying scrolls of history
and the unearned retrieval of blessings lost for ever,
the poor grass returning after drought, timid, persistent.
God's abstention is only from human dialects. The holy voice
utters its woe and glory in myriad musics, in signs and portents.
Our own words are for us to speak, a way to ask and to answer.
Denise Levertov

Lent is a liberating reminder that I'm not stuck. Because God speaks in new voices and in unexpected ways, change can come. Renewal is possible. And in the ultimate Christian mystery that awaits us a few Sundays from now, even physical death leads to resurrection life."
http://www.journeywithjesus.net/Essays/20120227JJ.shtml

The power of Lament

I sit within the Uniting Church tradition in Australia, a tradition which, by and large, does not 'celebrate' Ash Wednesday as part of our church life. In my ministry i have spent some time within the episcopal (Anglican) tradition where i have learned the value of taking this day seriously. I still remember the first time that i was part of an Ash Wednesday service and the power of having my forehead marked with the sign of the cross, a sign of my mortality, but also my grief and sadness at my own and our corporate human fallibility and violence. In a time when we continue to inflict violence on each other and the environment in so many ways, i feel that this day plays a vital part in our Christian life. To paraphrase part of a sermon (see below) by Jan Remont ...
  as Ash Wednesday grows close – and as I hear the news each day, look around me, and search my own heart – I find myself thinking of ashes as . . . ashes. Ashes in their stark deathly reality, not ashes as ground that can still sprout – but in my mouth is also the taste of ashes. I want to weep. In Iraq and in Africa, ashes of war and ashes of hunger. The last ashes scattering in the wind and no hope of fire to cook more food, because there is no food left and no fuel for fire. Ashes of the many who continue to die in conflicts in the Ukraine and Syria. Ashes of Auschwitz, whose memories are deep within us.  Ashes of our Australia's integrity as we continue to treat Asylum seekers as criminals, Ashes of the dead Egyptian Christians beheaded by the Islamic state last week. Ashes of the Rainforests that are burning even now to fuel human greed.
There is great power in Lament and it is a power to acknowledge our truth and to begin to strive for change.
Rev Gordon Bannon

The task of Lent

As i ponder the task of the Lenten period and all the traditions of  "giving up stuff" for the period in order to improve one's spiritual condition, i am reminded of what i think is the real task of discipleship and therefore all we should be focusing on in this Lenten time.

“To learn to love
is to be stripped of all love
until you are wholly without love
because
until you have gone
naked and afraid
into this cold dark place
where all love is taken from you
you will not know
that you are wholly within love.”
(From Lines Scribbled on an Envelope, New York: Ferrar, Straus and Giroux, 1969)

a sense of beyondness

“[I believe] there is nothing more needed by humanity today …

than the recovery of a sense of “beyond-ness”

in the whole of life to revive the springs of wonder and adoration.”  John. V Taylor

And a Good Friday was had by all

And a Good Friday Was Had By All

 You men there, keep those women back and God 

Almighty he laid down on the crossed timber 

and old Silenus my offsider look at me as if to say nice work for soldiers, 

your mind's not your own once you sign that dotted line 

Ave Caesar and all that malarkey Imperator Rex

well this Nazarene didn't make it any easier really‑

not like the ones who kick up a fuss 

so you can do your block and take it out on them

Silenus held the spikes steady and I let fly with the sledge‑hammer, 

not looking on the downswing

 trying hard not to hear over the women's wailing

 the bones give way the iron shocking the dumb wood.

Orders is orders, I said after it was over nothing personal you understand‑

we had a drill‑sergeant once thought he was God 

but he wasn't a patch on you

then we hauled on the ropes and he rose in the hot air

 like a diver just leaving the springboard,

 arms spread so it seemed over the whole damned creation 

over the big men who must have had it in for him and the curious ones 

who'll watch anything if it's free with only the usual women caring anywhere 

and a blind man in tears.

‑ BRUCE DAWE

Painting by Rev Wes Campbell (used with permission)

i don't know who

I don't know who - or what - put the question, I don't know when it was put. I don't even remember answering. But at some moment I did answer Yes to Someone - or Something - and from that hour I was certain that existence is meaningful and that, therefore, my life, in self-surrender, had a goal.

From that moment I have known what it means "not to look back," and "to take no thought for the morrow."

Led by the Ariadne's thread of my answer through the labyrinth of life, I came to a time and place where I realized that the Way leads to a triumph which is a catastrophe, and to a catastrophe which is a triumph, that the price for committing one's life would be reproach, and that the only elevation possible to man lies in the depths of humilation. After that, the word “courage” lost its meaning, since nothing could be taken from me.

As I continued along the Way, I learned, step by step, word by word, that behind every saying in the gospels, stands one man and one man's experience. Also behind the prayer that the cup might pass from him and his promise to drink it. Also behind each of the words from the cross.

-Dag Hammarskjold

Palm Sunday coloring

http://www.biblekids.eu/new_testament/palm_sunday/palm_sunday_html/palm_sunday_28.html

What to do in the darkness

    What to do in the Darkness

by Marilyn Chandler McEntyre

Go slowly

Consent to it

But don't wallow in it

Know it as a place of germination

And growth

Remember the light

Take an outstretched hand if you find one

Exercise unused senses

Find the path by walking it

Practice trust

Watch for dawn