The hour has come

Haiku to unite a people.

The hour has come;
things move inexorably
to their conclusion.

Jesus’ work is done.
Just one last task before him;
shouldn’t be too hard.

We struggle to grasp:
the Son will be glorified
as he meets his death.

Receiving God’s word,
he opened it to his friends,
sharing the wonder.

Touched by divine grace
he speaks of life eternal:
communion with God.

He prays for his friends,
knowing he must soon depart,
leaves them in God’s care.

Father, keep them safe
beyond this hour. Unite them;
ground them in your love.


© Ken Rookes 2017



(Matthew 4:12-13)

Jesus made his home in Capernaum.
His mother stayed in Nazareth,
along with his sisters and brothers.
They talked in low murmurs
about their eccentric older brother;
the girls were married,
most of the boys too,
with children of their own.
Family gatherings had been good
times of fun and celebration;
with Jesus, everybody’s favourite uncle.
At thirty he should have taken a wife;
should be thinking about his own children.
Perhaps that was his intention,
but why Capernaum, and not Nazareth?
Surprised, bewildered,
and somewhat hurt by his departure,
the family held a crisis meeting
and agreed that a delegation
should go to the seaside town
to persuade him to return home.

“It’s good to see you,”
he whispered as he embraced each one.
“Yes, I will be staying.
Of course I miss you,
but no, I’m not lonely,” he said,
as he introduced his new friends.
They wept, spoke of his mother’s tears,
and pressed him for further explanation.
“The time had come,”
was all he offered.

© Ken Rookes

Only one thing


Too much smug,

ticket-to-heaven thinking,

(I nearly called it theology),

in the fundamentalist roots

that many of us share. But,

says gospel-writer John

and those who appropriated his name

in later letters, there is only one thing

by which we are made friends

of Jesus.

If the proof is in the eating,

then the fruits are surely

in the doing, the listening,

and the obeying of the commandment.

The agápē word was spoken often

and enacted on more than one occasion

by the man who embodies

self-giving, generosity and compassion.

This utterance at the centre

of his living,

and translated into our language,

has become so tired

that I am reluctant to employ it.

Made a cliché,

the word spills effortlessly

from undiscerning lips,

and only occasionally finds expression

through committed hands

and outraged hearts.

But, it seems to me,

this one thing alone causes God,

(however she is conceived),

to smile;

only one thing.



© Ken Rookes 2012