An abundant harvest

Haiku for a capitalist world

Jesus, we are told,
refused to act as a judge
between two brothers.

He told a story
to warn against greed and wealth.
Take care! he told them.

The love of money,
a later follower wrote,
gives rise to evil.

Ignoring others
when your needs are paramount
leaves no place for love.

Building bigger barns
in which to store one’s riches.
Keep them for yourself.

Wealth and more money,
cannot satisfy the rich;
there’s never enough.

How empty the hearts
of the wealthy; emptiness
that is never filled.

Best give it away,
create some empty spaces
for God to dwell in.

© Ken Rookes 2019

One thing is lacking

Haiku for those who struggle to let go.

Running to Jesus,
he knelt: For life eternal,
tell me what to do?

Jesus answered him;
You should know what God commands;
do these things and live.

Teacher, since my youth
I have kept the laws of God.
Jesus looked with love.

One thing is lacking:
Go, sell what you own, and give
it all to the poor.

Then come, follow me,
your wealth will be in heaven;
you will know true life.

The man was dismayed;
his possessions were many,
he could not let go.

How hard it will be
for the wealthy to enter
the kingdom of God..

Camels will pass through
a needle’s eye easier.
The rich will struggle.

Who then can be saved?
Mortals cannot achieve it,
God makes it happen.

You who have left home
to tread the kingdom’s pathways
will be rewarded.

 

© Ken Rookes 2018

The courage of generosity

She was not frightened;
the woman that Jesus spoke of.
He had looked on from a distance
as she dropped her unobtrusive coins,
two in number, small and copper,
into the large temple money box.
Was he able to hear
the soft clunking sounds produced
as they joined the pile of larger coins
in the treasury’s insistent receptacle?

The rich are calculating in their philanthropy,
lest their abundance be significantly diminished.
What does the law expect from me,
and how do I balance it against my other demands;
quite apart from my needs for comfort
and security in my old age?
How will this contribution look to my peers
as they surreptitiously glance
at the number and colour of the coins
as I make my offering?

The rich live with anxiety; their wealth
seldom delivers contentment or peace.
Any generosity that might have fed their hearts
is pressed by fear
to the borders of their being.

The widow in our story was poor, without savings
or pension; the coins, according to Jesus,
were all that she had to live on.
He concludes his story by offering her as an example
in a way that he never did with the rich.
Affirming her freedom and generosity,
he celebrates her courageous choice
to trust in God.

© Ken Rookes 2012

Needles and Camels

For a long time now
the rich have liked the church.
Across the centuries
they have accommodated themselves
to its structures, institution and power;
(it’s been mutual),
permitting the church its sphere of authority
while determinedly maintaining their own.
Striving after respectability and influence,
not to mention their reserved seats in heaven,
the wealthy have been generous
with their patronage, constructing
buttress, edifice and spire.
(To be fair, the poor
have paid for their share of gold-leaf,
stained-glass oaken beams and dressed stone, too;
more often than not, subsidising the rich.)
The affluent have joined the church’s boards,
sat in on its councils,
propounded their advice,
shared their expertise,
sought and given favours
and requested ecclesiastical blessings
upon their many enterprises.
Some suggest that the wealthy and powerful
are seen too much in the company
of presbyter and priest.

The rich, it must be said,
find Jesus bewildering.
They hear stories:
about the teacher quietly suggesting
to a virtuous man of means,
that his life would be greatly enhanced
if he sold all his stuff and gave it to the poor.
On another occasion the carpenter
outrageously asserted  that God and mammon
were incompatible masters;
and when he spoke of the unlikelihood
of camels squeezing themselves
through the eyes of needles,
the rich began to get the idea
that Jesus might not have been on their side.
Still, there’s always the church.

© Ken Rookes 2012