This is the Spirit of Truth

Haiku of promise

Spirit, advocate,
mystery God at our side;
within and without.

Spirit of truth who
abides in each open heart;
gift from the Father.

Spirit of Jesus;
among us, unseen presence,
sharing risen life.

Divine indwelling;
the Son in the Father,
the Spirit in us.

It’s all about love;
thus the Spirit recalls us
to Jesus’ commands.

You who follow me
will prove it,
Jesus told them.
Love will be the sign.

I will be with you,
I will show myself to you;
we will dwell in love.

 

© Ken Rookes 2017

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You have heard that it was said (1)

You have heard that it was said (1)
A haiku sequence,

Going beyond law.
You have heard that it was said;
but I say to you.

You shall not murder;
but anger with a brother
also is a sin.

Insult a sister
or call a brother “you fool,”
this will bring judgement.

Don’t attend worship
if you have caused an offence;
first be reconciled.

If you are accused
don’t wait ’til it gets to court,
sort it out before.

No adultery,
but even looking with lust
damages the heart.

If your hand or eye
leads you astray, discard it.
Live with truth and grace.

Do not swear falsely;
better still, don’t swear at all.
Stick with ‘yes’ and ‘no.’

He rewrote the law,
calling forth our better selves;
for the sake of love.

 

© Ken Rookes 2017

But how will I know?

My eyes, my mind and my heart,
I like to believe, are open.
But when the Spirit of truth comes,
how will I know?
Perhaps she has already come.

She will, I assume, speak to me of Jesus
and his teachings; telling of love
and generosity, of justice and defiance,
of courage, anger, compassion and peace.

I am emboldened, and challenged
to join with my sisters and brothers
and pray: Come, Holy Spirit!
But when she comes;
how will I know?

 

© Ken Rookes 2016

And the word became flesh and lived among us

The Logos-word came,
so the story goes,
sharing light and truth and wonder
with us earth-folk;
receiving, in return,
the planet’s dust and strife,
along with our tears, regrets and weariness.
Hardly a balanced transaction.

 

© Ken Rookes 2015

But you cannot bear them now

Spirit of Truth, Advocate:
you see all things,
know all things.
Reveal it,
show us; but not too much.
Open our eyes and let us see;
but, if you don’t mind,
keep hidden those things
that might cause anxiety
or shame.

You know what we can bear;
just a little for now.
A single LED rather than a floodlight.
There are scenes we would rather not view,
stories we would rather not hear.
Tales of suffering and cruelty
of which we prefer to remain ignorant.
Injustices, that, intruding into our pleasant reality,
might impel us into action
or compel us to change.

It’s not that we lack courage
to take on the many things,
but one at a time;
if that’s all right.
 

© Ken Rookes 2015

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

With the coming of Word

With the coming of Word

With the coming of Word
at the beginning of the second act,
Grace and Truth
stride purposefully to centre stage
to take up their allotted positions.
Law, having featured so strongly in act one,
is, according to the script,
directed to move upstage
and to quietly exit to the right.
Law moves with deliberate steps,
then pauses,
relishing the lingering spotlight,
which, for loyalty or fear, perhaps both,
seems reluctant to trust
the new leads to carry the show.
Law’s assured and comfortable lines
seduce and enthral,
delivered with the much-practised ease
of one who has held the proscenium for centuries.
The spectators are less than convinced
by the unfamiliar and surprising utterances
of Grace and Truth.
The play pauses awkwardly,
perplexing the audience;
some begin to leave.

© Ken Rookes
Further poems for Sunday can be found here and here