Reflection for the Ninth Sunday after Trinity – the Transfiguration. 

‘While he was praying, the appearance of his face changed.’ Jesus, in Luke 9:28-36.

‘It is not only prayer that gives God glory but work.’ Gerard Manley Hopkins.

Luke’s account of the Transfiguration begins with Jesus taking Peter, James and John up the mountain with him – this is not for all the disciples to experience. While they are together, Jesus is transfigured before them – his face changes and his clothes become dazzling white, with Moses and Elijah also joining him and appearing in glory. Luke tells us that the disciples are sleepy but, because they stayed  awake, are able to see what happens. Perhaps that’s part of our story too – despite the ‘woke’ culture in which we live, there may be times when sleep seems more tempting than being alert. 

Moses and Elijah traditionally represent the Law, the Prophets and the importance of the Old Testament in understanding the New – and, despite never having met them, the three disciples seem to know who they are. However, Luke states that Moses and Elijah are discussing with Jesus his departure, or forthcoming death, in Jerusalem. They are encouraging him to face what lies ahead, whereas the disciples still do not understand what is to happen. Bishop Hall wrote of the ‘strange opportunity’ this presents:

In his highest Exaltation to speak of his Sufferings; to talk of Calvary in Tabor; when his Head shone with glory, to tell him how it must bleed with thorns; when his Face shone like the Sun, to tell him it must be blubbered and spat upon; when his Garments glistered with that celestial brightness, to tell him they must be stripped and divided; when he was adored by the Saints of Heaven, to tell him how he must be scorned by the basest of men; when he was between two Saints, to tell him how he must be seen between two Malefactours: in a word, in the midst of his Divine Majesty, to tell him of his shame; and whilst he was Transfigured in the Mount, to tell him how he must be disfigured upon the Cross. Yet these two Heavenly Prophets found this the fittest time for this discourse: rather chusing to speak of his Sufferings in the height of his Glory, than of his Glory after his Sufferings.’ Bishop Joseph Hall, 1574-1656.

In the face of the glory before them as Jesus is transfigured by dazzling light, the disciples hear a voice telling them to listen, as well as look, as they are enveloped in a cloud – understandably, they are terrified. They tell no-one what has happened and keep their silence in the face of such an astonishing event. Like them, perhaps we need to listen as well as see what is happening before us in our world today. There may be many things from global warming to warfare and unrest in so many places that cause us to be frightened and it’s poignant that the feast of the Transfiguration is celebrated on the same date as the terrible light unleashed by the dropping of the atomic bomb in Hiroshima in 1945. Through that devastation, peace was enforced but there are also fears today that nuclear warfare may become an outcome of the war between Russia and Ukraine. Many things disfigure our world, just as the Light of Christ and faith that prayer can make a difference can also transfigure the darkness as the figures on the world stage play out their roles. 

However, the cloud was also part of the transfiguration then just as the mushroom cloud disfigured Hiroshima in 1945. If we can’t see where we’re going or understand what is happening, perhaps we need to listen and look more closely as we figure out where God’s transfiguring glory may be clouded in our world today: ‘A man with a dungfork in his hand, a woman with a sloppail, give God glory too. All things give him glory if you mean they should.’ Gerard Manley Hopkins.

With my prayers; pob bendith,

Christine, Guardian.

Reflection for the Eighth Sunday after Trinity.



“The kingdom of heaven is like…….” Jesus, in St Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52.

“Your greatest contribution to the kingdom of God may not be something you do but someone you raise.” Andy Stanley, American pastor.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus deals with five short parables in which he likens the kingdom of heaven to what is happening all around in his rural setting. He speaks of the kingdom resembling mustard seed, which is tiny but can grow to a great height, or yeast put into flour to make it rise. Jesus also likens the kingdom of heaven to a full net of fish of every kind with the good fish being separated from the bad which is then thrown out. These are small, everyday events from which greater things will develop but Jesus also mentions precious objects such as treasure being found in a field or a fine pearl of great value. These are things worth possessing and so the field is bought for access to the treasure and everything is sold so that its new owner can buy the expensive pearl. 

In these parables, short stories with a heavenly  meaning, patience is required: the mustard seed will grow, but it takes time; the yeast will raise the flour and the fish will be sorted when the net is full – but it takes time. So it is with the treasure in the field, which needs to be covered and the land purchased or with the fine pearl – possessions have to be sold before it can be bought and that also can’t be done immediately.

These things can also happen without being noticed – it can often be assumed that seeds will grow, bread will rise and fish will be sorted out before use. But it takes effort, money and resources to buy a field or a fine pearl and that needs planning in a way that can sometimes be overlooked. Like the oak tree within the acorn, small things can have great consequences in the right setting just as big things can also have tiny origins. All this is part of the kingdom too, says Jesus. The treasure was there – but hidden, like so much around us – and so is the kingdom of heaven, developing whether or not we are aware of it. 

Those hidden things are often revealed later – after at least ten and possibly fifteen years on her own in this remote valley, the encounter between Melangell and Brochwel led to a small wooden church being built in the seventh century and a place of pilgrimage being established on the foundations of sanctuary, healing and hospitality. Thanks to those seeds being sown then, today people come here from all over the world and the website is used by people in many countries as candles are placed on the altar and prayers said on their behalf. From tiny beginnings, great things have grown – and are doing, still. 

Jesus used examples current to his way of life then. Today, what is the kingdom of heaven like? 

With my prayers; pob bendith,

Christine, Guardian.

Reflection for the Seventh Sunday after Trinity – wheat and weeds.

“Let both of them grow together until the harvest.” Jesus, in Matthew 13:24-30,36-43.



”The time will come that gold will hold no comparison to a bushel of wheat.” 

Brigham Young

Today’s Gospel reading is the parable of the wheat and tares, which Jesus likens to the kingdom of heaven. A farmer has sown good seed but, when it starts to grow, weeds are appearing too – probably darnel, which looks much like wheat at first but is poisonous in large quantities and means that the flour can’t be used if it’s mixed with the wheat. The servants are anxious to pull out the tares before they can ruin the crop but, as the roots entwine, this would pull up the wheat too. In those days, farmers would be dependent on good seed as well as the right weather and, without the sprays often used today, malicious action by an enemy could have disastrous results. The enemy is not named in Jesus’ parable but the workers are indignant at what’s happened – possibly in case they might be blamed. They have also done the hard work of preparing the ground and sowing the seed so they are the ones who want to uproot the weeds in the hope that the wheat will flourish through what they do. 

However, the farmer wants it all left until the harvest, as it can then be more easily separated with the wheat being stored and the tares burnt. Rather than finding an immediate solution which may do harm, he chooses to wait and patience is required until the time is right and the damage can be minimised. Patience that is sometimes so hard to endure – many have prayed for patience and wanted it NOW!

That may be hard for the workers who are perhaps more used to smaller tasks and short-term goals. Patience is also a quality required here as the harvesting of the hillside’s trees continues – as one of the harvesters said, it should look fine again in only forty years from now!

With Ukraine and Russia supplying 28% of the world’s wheat exports and the price fluctuating hugely because of the war and the resultant rising cost of living, Jesus’ parable is particularly appropriate. In the challenges being faced individually and collectively, patience can at times become procrastination and, two thousand years later, his message is still pertinent. When Jesus likens the kingdom of God to a field where wheat and weeds are growing  together, it’s a reminder to his followers that this is to be expected as part of God’s kingdom here on earth. So, finding wheat and tares together is actually a sign of the kingdom. Any news broadcast shows that good and evil, fruitfulness and weeds are entwined in our world today and that needs to be recognised as part of the growth until the time is right for harvesting.

Potential crop and tares are present in every life, too; are we, like those workers, wanting to rush in quickly to overcome challenges and risk further damage? Perhaps we identify with the farmer, showing patience and longer-term planning? So, if weeds and woes seem to be dominant, take heart – it may be a reminder that the crop is growing too, entwined until the time is right for harvesting. That time may be nearer than is realised – as Jesus says, “Let anyone with ears listen!” (v43)

With my prayers; pob bendith,

Christine, Guardian.

Reflection for the Sixth Sunday after Trinity and broadcasting

 “Let anyone with ears listen!” Jesus in St Matthew 13-1-9, 18-23. 

”They try to destroy us but as long as we come here and play music we are the first green grass which comes out of the ruins.” The unnamed cellist brother of conductor Dalia Stasevska on playing Bach in the ruined concert hall in Bucha, Ukraine.


Today’s Gospel is a parable – an earthly story with a heavenly meaning – and is just one of the seven parables found in the thirteenth chapter of St Matthew. Unlike the other parables, where Jesus likens them to illustrating something to do with the kingdom of heaven, this parable simply begins with a farmer going out to sow seed, an image which would have been very familiar to his rural audience.

Jesus speaks of seed being sown by broadcasting, a method where it is scattered by hand over a fairly large area. In the parable, it falls onto four types of ground: the path, where it’s eaten by the birds; rocky ground where the seed springs up quickly but has little root and soon withers; soil where thorns are so great it can’t grow; good ground, where the seed brings excellent yields. Jesus ends by telling those with ears to listen and this perplexes the disciples, who ask him why he is speaking in parables and so he eventually tells them more plainly what he means.

The sower himself is unnamed but the seed and what happens to it is described in more detail. The grain that falls on the hard path, Jesus suggests, represents the hard-hearted who hear his word but don’t respond to it or are snatched away by wrongdoing. The seed falling onto rocky ground suggests that some followers will appear to flourish at first but will wither when trouble comes their way. On thorny ground, the problems and anxieties of life choke any potential growth but those who hear and respond to the word may be very fruitful. They respond to the good news and resist wrongdoing whilst enduring hardships and overcoming worldly cares. 

However, the generosity – or wastefulness – of the sower is key. Hard ground can be dug for easier growth, rocks and thorny weeds can be removed so that the seed stands the best chance of growing – but this sower has done none of that. He scatters the seed plentifully wherever he chooses – some of it might be wasted, but some might grow, too, even though it falls randomly. A good farmer would prepare his ground thoroughly before sowing the seed and the disciples would have known that. That’s probably why they don’t understand what he’s talking about but, in giving the meaning of this parable to the disciples but not the crowd, Jesus’ words about them listening as well as hearing are key. In speaking so cryptically, Jesus tells them to work out for themselves what he’s saying about God’s kingdom breaking into their lives in unexpected places and times. God’s love is generous – many may have the chance to hear and respond but others will fall away too. For those who receive the word and respond to it, there is hope – God or Jesus may be the sower of the seed but the disciples are asked to join him. They may be able to prepare the land by removing what threatens the word from flourishing – but the sower is key, whereas the seed will germinate where it falls.

Today, this may mean little in light of the prairie fields and large scale drills that are now used by farmers but this week has seen an extraordinary struggle between various broadcasters in the modern sense of the word. An individual unnamed broadcaster, the world famous broadcaster the BBC, the Sun newspaper and the media broadcasts and posts were  engaged in a storm of allegations that sowed rumour and innuendo which ended with Huw Edwards being named and then admitted into hospital with severe mental health issues. As seed needs to be sown in the right places for the best growth, so does truth – clearly a casualty in this week’s events as they are assessed.

However, from the devastation may spring up new realisations of what is heard and said, just as the green shoots of recovery were shown in that concert hall in Ukraine. Here in Melangell’s valley, the first shoots of new life are pushing up on the hillside following the harvesting of its trees and the devastation of the ground. What is being sown in our hearts or lives and where might the first shoots of new life be breaking through as we listen to what our hearts, as well as our ears, are telling us? 

With my prayers; pob bendith

Christine, Guardian.



Adlewyrchiad am y Chweched ddydd Sul ar ol y Drindod, a Darlledu.

 “Gad i unrhyw un gyda clustiau, wrando!”
Yr Iesu yn St Matthew 13-1-9, 18-23. 

”Maen’t yn ceisio ein dinistro ond cyn belled ac ‘rydym yn parhau i ddod yma a chwarae cerddoriaeth, ni yw’r glaswellt cyntaf i ddod allan o’r adfeilion.”
Brawd, heb ei enwi, i arweinydd Dalia Stasevska, ynglyn a chwarau Bach yn y neuadd cyngerdd a ddinistrwyd yn Bucha, Ukraine.

Dihareb yw efengyl heddiw – chwedl bydol gydag ystyr nefol – ac yn un o’r saith diharebion ym mhennod 13 o St Matthew.
Yn anhebyg i’r diharebion eraill, lle mae’r Iesu yn eu cymharu a digwyddiadau yn nheyrnas y nefoedd, mae’r ddihareb yma yn cychwyn gyda ffarmwr yn mynd allan i hau hadau, delwedd cyfarwydd i’w gynilleidfa wledig.
Mae’r Iesu yn son am hau hadau drwy ddarlledu, lle mae’r hadau’n cael eu gwasgaru wrth law dros dirwedd go eang.
Yn y ddihareb, mae’n glanio ar bedwar fath o dir; y llwybr, lle gafodd ei fwyta gan adar, tir carregog, lle mae’n tyfu’n gyflym ond, heb wraidd dyfn, yn marw’n sydyn , pridd lle mae’r chwyn yn ei dagu a tir da lle mae’r hadau’n cynhyrchu cynhaeaf ardderchog.
Gorffen yr Iesu drwy orchymyn y rhai gyda clustiau – i wrando, ac wrth i hyn ddrysu’r disgyblion, mae E’n siarad yn fwy plaen gyda nhw.

Tydi’r hadwr ddim yn cael ei enwi ond mae’r hedyn a’r hyn sy’n digwydd iddo yn cael disgrifiad fanylach.
Mae’r graen sy’n syrthio ar y llwybr caled yn adlewyrchu’r galon-galed sy’n clywed Ei eiriau ond ddim yn ymateb iddynt, neu’n cael eu dwyn ymaith gan ddrwg weithredu.
Awgryma’r “hadau sy’n syrthio ar dir garregog” fod rhai dilynwyr yn frwdfrydig i ddechrau ond yn ymadael pryd mae bywyd yn mynd yn anodd.
Ar dir dreiniog mae problemau a phryderon bywyd yn medru tagu tyfiant newydd ond mae’r rhai sy’n clywed ac yn ymateb yn medru bod yn ffrwythlon iawn. Maen’t yn ymateb i’r newyddion da ac yn gwrthod ddrwg-weithredu tra’n dioddef anhawsterau a threchu gofalon y byd.

Beth bynag, allweddol yw haelioni – neu gwastraff – yr hadwr.
Medir balu tir caled er mwyn tyfiant haws, medir dynnu chwyn a drain a cherrig er mwyn i’r hedyn gael chware teg – ond tydi’r hadwr yma heb wneud dim am hyn.
Mae’n gwasgaru’r hadau yn hael lle bynag mae’n dewis – efallai gwastraffwyd darn ohono, ond efallai tyfai hefyd er ei fod yn syrthio gyda hap a siawns. Bydde ffarmwr da yn paratoi ei dir yn drwyadl cyn hau’r hadau a gwybyddont y disgyblion hynny.

Efallai dyna paham nac ydynt yn ei ddeallt ond, drwy rannu ystyr y ddihareb gyda’r disgyblion ond nid y dorf, mae Ei eiriau ynglyn a gwrando yn ogystal a chlywed, yn allweddol.
Drwy siarad mewn ffordd gyfrinachol gorchmynai’r Iesu iddynt ddadansoddi Ei eiriau ynglyn a theyrnas Duw yn cael mynediad i’w bywydau mewn llefydd ac ar adegau annisgwyl.

Hael yw cariad Duw – caiff lawer y cyfle i glywed ac i ymateb – ond bydd lawer yn ymadael hefyd.

Mae gobaith i’r rhai sy’n derbyn, ac ymateb, i’r gair – Duw neu’r Iesu yw hauwyr yr hadau ond mae gofyn i’r disgyblion ymateb hefyd.
O bosib byddent yn medru paratoi’r tir drwy dynnu ymaith rhwystredigion i gynnydd y gair – ond allweddol yw’r hadwr, tra fod yr hadau yn tyfu ble bynag maen’t yn glanio.

Heddiw, efallai, tydi hyn yn cyfri’ dim yng nghyd-destyn meusydd enfawr a pheiriannau hadu grymus a ddefnyddir gan ffarmwyr, ond wythnos yma mae brwydr llym wedi arddangos rhwng wahanol ddarlledwyr, yn ystyr cyfoes y gair.
Ar ol honiadau am gamymddwyn rhywiol yn y Sun a’r BBC, datgelwyd enw Huw Edwards yn gyhoeddus, yr hyn a arweiniodd iddo ymweld a ysbyty, yn dioddef gyda salwch meddwl difrifol.

Anghenus yw hau hadau ar y tir orau er mwyn tyfiant da, felly y Gwir, sydd wedi ei faeddu wrth ystyried digwyddiadau’r wythnos dwaethaf.

Ta waeth, allan o’r dinistr, efallai daw dehongliadau newydd o’r hyn a glywid a ddywedwyd, fel y datblygodd eginiau newydd yn y neuadd cyngerdd yn yr Iwcrain.

Yma yn nyffryn Melangell, gwelwyd eginau gwyrdd yn tyfu ar ol cynhaeaf y goedwig pinwydden ar ochor y mynydd a dinistr y tirwedd a achoswyd.

Be sy’n cael ei hadu yn ein calonnau neu ein bywydau, a lle mae eginau tyfiant newydd yn arddangos wrth i ni wrando ar ein calonnau yn ogystal a’n clustiau?

Gyda fy ngweddion,
Pob Bendith,
Christine,
Gwarcheidwad.

Felted image of St Melangell

Following a visit from a group of Quakers from North Wales a member was inspired to felt an image of St Melangell “…immersed in her woodland setting….sheltering her hares…”. This gift arrived unexpectedly in the post. How beautiful and how kind. Thank you ❤

Apologies for the late arrival of this reflection, due to a cabling fire caused by a lightning strike in yesterday’s storms which took out both power and broadband.



Reflection for the Fifth Sunday after Trinity – Sea Sunday.

“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” Jesus, in today’s Gospel Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30. 

‘Sunset and evening star and one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar when I put out to sea.’ From Tennyson’s poem ‘Crossing the Bar’.

Today is Sea Sunday and it might seem strange to be celebrating it in this landlocked place but all of us are more dependent on seafarers than perhaps we realise. Over 1.5 million seafarers transport over 90% of the world’s goods and, when the various navies, and rescue services are taken into account, our daily lives and the economy are affected by people we don’t know and of whom we are largely unaware. Their lives, and those of their families, can be adversely affected by the conditions in which they work as they are often away from home for long periods of time – sometimes up to a year – which can create feelings of loneliness and depression. Shore leave was often not possible during the pandemic and increasing costs can mean that fewer crew members are employed and have to work longer hours, which can lead to fatigue. It’s important to remember them, especially when supply issues have been a factor recently, with consequences for producers and seafarers as well as consumers. 

Nowadays, huge container ships and enormous naval vessels are capable of great enterprises but, in the time of Jesus, the small wooden boats he would have known nevertheless helped to convey the Gospel to all parts of the world. There are many stories of Jesus using boats and dealing with the weather as well as the missionary voyages of Paul being mapped in the Acts of the Apostles. They were not always straightforward and there are Biblical accounts of disagreements such as that between Paul and Barnabas, who eventually separated and took the Gospel in different directions. They wouldn’t have been sailing for long compared to modern seafarers and so the work of chaplains in the ports today can be very important for welfare concerns. 

One example of this is of a ship recently arriving in North East England with 22 seafarers aboard. When a team visited from the Roman Catholic welfare charity Stella Maris, it was clear that all was not well and their report reads: “It transpired that the crew was under huge mental and physical strain. One confided that, during the voyage to Teesport from the USA, he had only been getting two hours sleep a night because he was so stressed and overworked. He was also concerned that the crew were no longer able to operate the vessels safely as they were all exhausted.” Stella Maris Sea Sunday.

The relevant authorities were notified by Stella Maris and a vessel detention notice was served, so that seafarers could go ashore to recover and 11 were later repatriated. The rest of which Jesus spoke for those who are burdened was provided in his name by the team checking the welfare of those seafarers and it’s a reminder that the cost of our goods and supplies is even greater than we sometimes realise.

The church where I served after ordination had a Rector who owned a narrow boat and he arranged to butty it up with a barge to take the youth group away for a week on the canals. The only person who fell in during the whole time was me and, as my feet touched the slimy mud at the bottom and the filthy waters came up to my neck, I knew that I was dependent on someone else rescuing me as I couldn’t do it myself. What was so disconcerting was the prolonged laughter of all aboard but I was eventually pulled into the barge by those aboard and all was well. When it was time for me to move later on, the Rector reported to the Bishop that my curacy had been successful in all aspects – except seamanship!

He was joking, but every church is also a boat, an ark of salvation where safe passage is offered through the storms of life with Jesus at the helm and the worshippers as the crew – or, sometimes, mutineers! The congregation sits in the nave from the Latin word navis for boat and there are times for all of us when we’ll be dependent on others for our rescue or welfare – and they on us. Perhaps the words of Tennyson’s poem about the voyage we’ll all have to make when crossing from this world to the next are relevant for those who come to mind this Sea Sunday:

“For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place the flood may bear me far,

I hope to see my Pilot face to face when I have crost the bar.” Crossing the Bar.

With my prayers; pob bendith

Christine, Priest Guardian.

Adlewyrchiad am y Pumed Ddydd Sul ar ol y Drindod – Sul y Mor.


“28 Deuwch ataf fi bawb a’r y sydd yn flinderog ac yn llwythog, a mi a esmwythâf arnoch.”
Yr Iesu yn Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30. 
 
‘Sunset and evening star and one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar when I put out to sea.’
O bennill Tennyson ‘Crossing the Bar’.

 Heddiw yw Dydd Sul y Mor ac efallai fod yn rhyfedd ei ddathlu mewn man glodirol fel hyn ond rydym ni ‘gyd yn fwy ddibynnol ar forwyr nac rydym efallai yn sylweddoli.
Mae dros 1.5 miliwn o forwyr yn trosglwyddo dros 90% o nwyddau’r byd ac, pan ystyriwyd oll lyngesau a gwasanaethau achub y byd, mae’n bywydau ac economi yn cael eu dylanwadu gan bobl sy’n ddiarth i ni a rhai rydym yn anymwybodol ohonynt.
Medryd eu bywydau, a bywydau eu teuluoedd, cael eu amharu gan amgylchiadau gwaith, gan eu bon’t yn amal i ffwrdd o gartref am gyfnodau hir – weithiau i fynnu at flwyddyn – a medrid hyn achosi teimladau o unigrwydd ac iselder ysbryd.
Roedd gwyliau ar y tir fawr ddim yn bosib weithiau yn ystod y pandemig ac mae cynnydd mewn costau yn medru golygu llai o weithwyr ac oriau hir, sy’n medru arwain at orflinder. Mae’n bwysig cofio amdanynt, yn enwedig pryd mae darpariaeth wedi bod yn brin yn ddiweddar, gyda canlyniadau i gynhyrchwyr a morwyr yn ogystal a defnyddwyr.
Heddiw mae llongau trafnidiol a llyngesol enfawr yn medru ar anturiaethau mawr, ond yn adeg yr Iesu, roedd y cychod bach pren a adnabyddai yn ddigonol ar gyfer cyfryngu’r Efengyl i bob rhan o’r byd.
 Mae yna sawl chwedl am yr Iesu’n defnyddio cychod ac ymateb i’r tywydd yn ogystal a teithiau efengylaidd Pawl yn ol Actau’r Apostolion. Nid oeddynt bob tro’n esmwyth ac mae straeon o’r Beibl o anghytfodau, fel rhwng Pawl a Barnabas, a wahanasant a mynd a’r Efengyl i wahanol gyfeiriadau.
Na fyddent ar y mor cyhud a morwyr heddiw, felly mae gwaith caplaniaid yn y porthladdoedd yn arbennig o bwysig o safbwynt diogelwch y dyddie yma.
Un engraifft o hyn yw llong yn cyrraedd gogledd ddwyrain Lloegr yn ddiweddar gyda 22 o longwyr ar y bwrdd.
 Pryd fynychodd tim o’r elusen Catholig, Stella Maris, roedd yn amlwg fod ehywbeth o’i le ac ma’u adroddiad yn datgelu:
“Daeth yn amlwg fod y criw o dan bwysau corfforol a meddyliol aruthrol.
Datgelodd un ei fod dim ond yn cael ddwy awr o gwsg pob nos ar y daith i Teesport o’r Unol Daliaethau, oherwydd ei fod wedi gorweithio ac o dan bwyse meddwl aruthrol.
Roedd hefyd yn poeni fod y criw yn methu a gweithredu’n ddiogel oherwydd gorflinder.”
Stella Maris Sul y Mor.
 Cyfeiriodd Stella Maris y sefyllfa at yr awdurdodau priodol a mi ddwynwyd y llong iddynt o dan ddeddf morwrol, er mwyn i’r morwyr cael ysbaid ar y tir mawr a mi cafodd 11 fynd adref i’w gwledydd.
Darparwyd y gorphwys a soniodd yr Iesu amdano, yn Ei enw gan y tim a oedd yn archwilio diogelwch y morwyr ac mae’n atgofiad fod costau ein nwydda yn llawer uwch nad ydym yn sylweddoli ar adegau.
Yn yr eglwys lle wnes i wasanaethu ar ol cael fy ordeinio roedd yno Reithor a oedd yn perthynog ar gwch cul a mi wnaeth drefnu ei gyplu a ysgraff a mynd a’r grwp ieuenctid i ffwrdd ar y camlesi am wythnos.
 Yr unig berson i syrthio i’r dwr gydol yr amser oedd finne ac, wrth i fy’nhraed gyffwrdd a’r mwd llithrig ar y gwaelod a’r dyfroedd budr godi at fy ngwddw, roeddwn yn ymwybodol fy mod yn ddibynnol ar rhywun arall i fy’n achub, gan nad oedd yn bosib i mi wneud hynny fy hun.
Beth oedd yn ddryslud oedd chwerthin dibendraw fyng nghymdogion ar y cwch ond cefais fy’nhynnu ar y bwrdd ac roedd popeth yn iawn erbyn y diwedd.
Pryd symudais blwyf nes ymlaen, adroddodd y Rheithor wrth yr Esgob fod fy amser fel Curad wedi bod yn llwyddiannus ymhob agwedd ond am forwriaeth!
Roedd yn tynnu coes ond mae pob eglwys hefyd yn long, arch achub lle mae mordaith ddiogel ar gael drwy stormydd bywyd, gyda’r Iesu ar y llyw a’r addolwyr fel criw – neu, weithiau, mutinwyr!

 Eistedd y gynilleidfa yn y corff (saesneg “nave” o’r Lladin “navis” am gwch) a mi fydd adegau i bob un ohonom lle byddem yn ddibynnol ar eraill i’n achub neu am ofal – a nhwythau arnom ninnau.
Efallai fod geiriau Tennyson am y daith sy’n ein disgwyl ni gyd, wrth fentro o’r bywyd yma at y nesa yn addas ar ddydd Sul y Mor;
“For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place the flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face when I have crost the bar.” Crossing the Bar.

Gyda fy ngweddion,
Pob Bendith,
Christine,
Gweinidog Gwarcheidwad.

Reflection for the Fourth Sunday after Trinity.

”Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.” Jesus, in St Matthew 10:40-42. 

’The whirligig of time brings in his revenges.’ Shakespeare, in Twelfth Night, Act 5.



Soon after I came to St Melangell’s, having woken up early in the morning I decided to do some messy chores in old clothes before beginning my duties as Guardian. I was clearing out the ashes in the wood burner when the pan slipped and my scruffy jeans became covered in what fell out. I was also aware of several sooty smuts on my face but was about to have a shower and thought nothing of it. Before I’d had chance even to wash my hands, there was a knock at the door. I thought it might be my neighbour but, to my consternation, there stood a Russian Orthodox priest in formal dress, even with buckles on his shoes. “Good morning.” he said. “You must be the housekeeper. Is the Guardian at home?”

My welcome of him was clearly not as anticipated! In the Gospel today, Jesus is giving his twelve disciples instructions for what lies ahead and he speaks of being welcomed by those to whom they are sent. Jesus tells them that their welcome includes him and the one who sent him. The difficulty about being welcomed, however, is whether or not the caller comes at a time when the host is ready for them and one of the lessons I learned from my early visitor is always to expect the unexpected here. That includes the late arrival at 9.30pm one night of a party of Greeks – their minibus had broken down and they had to be in London the next morning but were determined to see St Melangell’s before they drove through the night to catch up with their schedule. They were cold, hungry and fed up – but insistent that they must pray at the shrine. As they held their service, I made them something to eat and it was well after midnight when they left, by now tired but happy that they had been able to pray here. Their dedication in doing this was impressive and a welcome change at a time when churches are having to be closed or made redundant through lack of support. 

The pandemic meant that, instead of being welcoming of one another, caution was the order of the day and this is still having its consequences for some. However, other ways were found of being welcoming online or at a distance and these are also having their influence. Each balances the other and, as Shakespeare writes in Twelfth Night, “The whirligig of time brings in his revenges.” A whirligig is a spinning toy going round and round, a reminder that what goes around comes around in life too. The opportunities to welcome others – or not – and be welcomed by them creates the chance also to welcome Jesus and the one who sent him – whether ready or not! 

With my prayers; pob bendith,

Christine

Adlewyrchiad am y Pedwerydd Ddydd Sul ar ol Y Drindod.

“ Y neb sydd yn eich derbyn chwi, sydd yn fy nerbyn i; a’r neb sydd yn fy nerbyn i, sydd yn derbyn yr hwn a’m danfonodd i.”
Yr Iesu yn St Matthew 10:40-42. 

’The whirligig of time brings in his revenges.’ Shakespeare, yn Twelfth Night, Act 5.

Yn fuan ar ol cychwyn yn St. Melangell, ar ol deffro’n gynnar, penderfynais fynd ati i wneud gwaith bydr o gwmpas y ty, mewn hen ddillad, cyn cychwyn fyng nghyfrifoldebau fel Gwarcheidwad.
Roeddwn yn glanhau lludw pan gwympodd y badell o’r tan goed a beuddu fy jins carpiog gyda’r cynnwys! Roeddwn hefyd yn ymwybodol o smotiau hyddug ar fy ngwyneb ond, ar fin cymeryd cawod, feddyliais dim fwy amdano.
Cyn i mi gael cyfle i olchi fy nwylo hyd yn oed, roedd yna guriad ar y drws.
Disgwyliais weld fy nghymdoges ond, er blinder i mi, yno yn sefyll oedd gweinidog Orthodox Rwsiaidd mewn gwisg priodol, hyd yn oed gyda bwcleiaid ar ei sgidie.

“Bore Da”, medde fo, “rhaid mae’r forwyn ydych chi, ydi’r Warcheidwad adre’ ?”

Roedd fy nghroeso ddim fel y disgwylir!

Yn efengyl heddiw mae’r Iesu yn cynghori Ei ddeuddeg Disgybl ynglyn a be sydd o’u blaenau ac mae’n son am groeso gan y rhai mae wedi eu gyrru atynt.
Mae’r Iesu yn deuthyn’t fod eu croeso yn cynnwys Ef a’r Un a’i yrrodd.

Yr anhawster ynglyn a chael eich croesawu, beth bynnag, yw cyfleuster amserol yr ymweliad, ac un o’r gwersi cynnar a ddysgais oedd i ddisgwyl yr annisgwyl yma.
Cynhwysir hyn gyrhaeddiad hwyr parti o Groegiaid un noson am 9.30 y nos – roedd eu bws mini wedi torri lawr a roeddynt ar eu ffordd i Lundain erbyn bore, ond yn benderfynnol o weld eglwys St. Melangell cyn yrru drwy’r nos a dal i fynny gyda’u rhaglen.
Roeddynt yn oer, llwglyd a blinedig ond yn mynnu cael gweddio wrth y Shrin.

Tra roeddynt yn cynnal y wasanaeth, mi wnes bryd iddynt a mi roedd yn hwyr ar ol hanner nos arnynt yn ymadael, wedi blino erbyn hyn ond yn llawen oherwydd medru gweddio yma.
Gwnaeth eu ymroddiad argraff arnaf a dangos wahaniaeth croesawgar i’r drefn bresennol lle mae eglwysi yn cae neu cael eu anwybyddu oherwydd diffyg cefnogaeth.

Golygwyd y pandemig fod pwyll yn blaenoriaethu dros dangos croeso at ein gilydd a mae rhai yn dal i ddioddef y canlyniadau.
Beth bynnag, darganfuwyd moddion eraill o fod yn groesawys ar lein neu o bellder a mae rhain hefyd yn cael dylanwad.
Mae’r un yn gydbwysol a’r llall a, fel sgrifennodd Shakespeare yn Twelfth Night, “The whirligig of time brings in his revenges.”
Tegan sy’n chwildroi yw whirligig, atgof fod “yr hyn sy’n mynd o gwmpas yn dod o gwmpas” mewn bywyd hefyd.

Mae’r cyfleon i groesawu rhywun, neu beidio, a chael croeso ganddynt yn creu’r cyfle i ni groesawu’r Iesu a’r Un a yrrodd Ef – boed ni’n barod neu beidio!

Gyda fy ngweddion,
Pob Bendith,
Christine.