Dear all,
“When Jesus heard what had happened, he withdrew privately to a solitary place. Hearing of this, the crowds followed him on foot from the towns. When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them and healed their sick.”
Saint Melangell Shrine Church & Centre
Pennant Melangell, Wales
Dear all,
“When Jesus heard what had happened, he withdrew privately to a solitary place. Hearing of this, the crowds followed him on foot from the towns. When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them and healed their sick.”
Dear all,
On Sunday 2nd August 2020, we will be opening for a simple Sunday service at 3pm.
This service will be somewhat different from usual, as additional safety measures are needed to allow us to resume. These will include physical distancing and hygiene procedures. The service will be shorter than usual and at this time we will not be able to sing together.
We have recruited a group of volunteer stewards to help keep everyone as safe as possible. Please follow their instructions if you are able to join us.
Due to all these measures, numbers will be limited as we need to allow two metres between each household.
We hope that this will allow us to develop safe ways to regularly come together for worship.
Thank you for your continued patience and support.
Dear all,
“When, therefore, a teacher of the law has become a learner in the kingdom of heaven, he is like a householder who can produce from his store both the new and the old.“ Jesus, in St Matthew 13:31-33,44-52, NEB.
“In my vulnerability we found an intensity of love that we’d never expressed before. Being closer to the last day has brought a richness to each and every day.” George Alagiah, speaking of the spread of his cancer.
Today’s Gospel reading for the Seventh Sunday after Trinity speaks of the kingdom of heaven in a series of images giving glimpses of the different aspects of God’s kingdom. Each one includes the words ‘the Kingdom of heaven is like….‘ and there is a pairing among them.
The parables of the mustard seed and yeast are addressed to the crowds and show small beginnings leading to great developments – from just a seed, and with the hard work of the farmer, a great plant grows which is big enough to shelter the birds. A small quantity of yeast has power to affect a large quantity of flour – three measures would bake enough bread for 100-150 people – and in those days, people didn’t usually have pure yeast but would keep some leavened dough from the last batch to leaven the next. With care and time, it would spread throughout the flour, making a huge difference, of which these parables speak. Jesus intended to encourage those listening to him and this applies to us today as we consider the small beginnings now possible as the Covid-19 restrictions ease. The challenges ahead may seem daunting – even opening the church and holding services has to be done after risk assessments, training, no singing and at a two metres distance. This may seem hard work and our resources too few but the words and stories of Jesus to his followers then may give us hope today.
Jesus continues with the parables addressed to the disciples when the crowds have gone. He speaks of hidden treasure and a valuable pearl – objects of great worth which lead to those who discover them selling all they have to own the field where the treasure is buried or the pearl of great price. Neither owner is sad to sell everything, because of the prospect of possessing such treasure – people often buried valuable possessions because there were no secure banks, small villages were sometimes looted and soldiers were free to take what they needed. It was a case of finders, keepers if treasure had been forgotten because its owner had died or if they had left home and were unable to return. Jesus reminded his followers about commitment to what is being asked of them at a time of great uncertainty – how appropriate to hear this today, in the uncertainty we face and as we consider what is of real worth now.
Finally, in the parable of the net Jesus speaks of a dragnet which scoops up all sorts of fish. As sea creatures without scales or fins could not be eaten by observant Jews, the unusable fish would be sorted by the fishermen and later discarded. Jesus indicates that the separation of good and bad will happen and, as we consider the moral issues and complex decisions of what’s happened during the Coronavirus pandemic, we need to be mindful of the investigations and judgements that will come for governments, communities and individuals as responsibilities and actions are considered later on.
Jesus used these simple stories to tell truths about God and his kingdom that are still as relevant today as they were then. Covid-19 has made many reassess what is important in life and, with our way of life so profoundly changing, the vulnerability now being experienced by so many may teach us much, as George Alagiah has discovered. We have much to learn and, like the householder of whom Jesus speaks, in the days ahead we will also have to produce the old and the new, mingling both to shape the new normal as it evolves. There will be indications of what to look for: ”the kingdom’s form is perpetually little, always seed-sized, divinely designed to be a treasure in earthen, not golden, vessels so that the exceeding greatness of the gospel’s power might always be God’s, not human beings” – FD Bruner.
Collect for the week
Lord of all power and might,
the author and giver of all good things:
graft in our hearts the love of your name,
increase in us true religion,
nourish us with all goodness,
and of your great mercy keep us in the same;
through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you
and the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
With my prayers,
Christine
Reflection for the sixth Sunday after Trinity
Transforming God, although we pray for the renewal of our lives and of our world, the changes we face are unsettling. Grant us such faith and trust in your steadfast love that we try not to conform your purposes to ours, but commit ourselves wholeheartedly to you; for you hold the future in your hands, and will never let us go. In Jesus’ name, who promised us his presence to the end. Amen. Canon Carol Wardman
A PASTORAL LETTER FROM BISHOP GREGORY
for Thursday, 16th July, 2020
LLYTHYR BUGEILIOL ODDI WRTH ESGOB GREGORY
ar gyfer dydd Iau, 16 Gorffennaf 2020
One of the gifts of the Spirit acknowledged in Scripture, and very active in the life of the both the Old and New Testaments, is the gift of Prophecy. One of the prophets, Joel, told us to expect a lot more of it. He wrote: “In the last days, God says, I will pour out My Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your youth will see visions, your elderly will dream dreams.”, and when Pentecost came, the apostles told us that in the life of the Church, we were to see this scripture being fulfilled. So where is prophecy today?
Un o roddion yr Ysbryd, sy’n cael ei gydnabod yn yr Ysgrythur, ac sy’n rhan amlwg iawn ym mywyd yr Hen Destament a’r Testament newydd, yw’r rhodd o Broffwydoliaeth. Dywedodd un o’r Proffwydi, Joel, y dylen ni ddisgwyl llawer mwy ohono. Ysgrifennodd: “Ar ôl hyn” meddai Duw, “tywalltaf fy ysbryd ar bob dyn. Bydd eich meibion a’ch merched yn proffwydo, bydd eich hynafgwyr yn gweld breuddwydion a’ch gwŷr ifanc yn cael gweledigaethau”, a phan ddaeth y Sulgwyn, dywedodd yr apostolion wrthym ni y byddwn ni, ym mywyd yr Eglwys, yn gweld yr ysgrythurau’n cael eu gwireddu. Felly, ble mae proffwydoliaeth heddiw?
I think that there are two things to help us to recognise prophecy in its biblical understanding. First, is that it is less to do with predicting the future, and more about speaking about the consequences of what God is saying to the world now. I’ve seen shelves of bookshops filled with “the Prophecies of Nostradamus” which are nothing to do with true prophecy, which is designed to bring home to us the truths that God is summoning us to obey. It is, as someone put it, “reading the signs of the times”.
Rwy’n meddwl fod yna ddau beth allai’n helpu i sylweddoli beth yw proffwydoliaeth yn ôl dealltwriaeth feiblaidd. Yn gyntaf, nid yw gymaint ynghylch proffwydo’r dyfodol ag yw ynghylch dangos canlyniadau’r hyn y mae Duw’n ei ddweud wrth y byd sydd ohoni. Rwy wedi gweld silffoedd mewn siopau llyfrau’n gwegian o dan ‘Broffwydoliaethau Nostradamus” nad oes â wnelon nhw ddim â gwir broffwydoliaeth, sef y gwirioneddau y mae Duw’n ein gwysio ni i’w hufuddhau. Hynny yw, fel y dywedodd rhywun “darllen arwyddion yr amserau”.
Second, it is highly political. So many people get prickly when Church leaders speak into political situations, and tell us to mind our own business, when in truth I think they mean that they’d like religion to be locked away from grubby realities, separated from truths they’d prefer not to have to face. The Prophets in the Bible – all of them, including Jesus – spoke the truth to the rich and powerful of the day, and often provoked just that negative response: how dare you? It’s why so many of them were killed.
Yn ail, mae’n hynod wleidyddol. Mae cymaint o bobl yn mynd yn bigog pan fydd arweinwyr yr Eglwys yn trafod sefyllfaoedd gwleidyddol, yn dweud wrthym ni am fendio’n busnes, sef, mewn gwirionedd, rwy’n meddwl eu bod eisiau gweld crefydd yn cael ei neillto oddi wrth realiti brwnt, oddi wrth y gwirioneddau y byddai’n well ganddyn nhw beidio â’u hwynebu. Roedd y Proffwydi yn y Beibl – pob un, gan gynnwys Iesu – yn dweud y gwir wrth bobl gyfoethog a phobl rymus y cyfnod, ac yn aml yn cael yr union ymateb negyddol hwnnw: paid â meiddio. Dyna pam y cafodd cymaint ohonyn nhw eu lladd.
So where is prophecy today? Some Christians look for something thrilling to come out of ecstatic worship, but I think that prophecy occurs when faith and wisdom go hand in hand: the wisdom to perceive how God is challenging us now. And there are many prophets among us – one such is John Bell, of the Iona Community. A couple of weeks ago he spoke during BBC Radio 4 Sunday Worship, and I felt that in what he said then he was being prophetic, asking what were the consequences of our Christian belief, and demonstrating how they must impact on the way we build our world. Here is some of what he had to say:
“If we believe, as Jesus says, ‘you shall know the truth and the truth will set you free’, do we want children in the future to be as ignorant of the past as many or most of us adults have been? I mean, I had to wait until I was fifty to discover that Scotland had owned a third of the slave plantations in Jamaica, and that the Victorian opulence of Glasgow and other British cities was the result of the trans-Atlantic transport of enslaved Africans, tacitly condoned by Christian churches. Do we have to wait for statues to be toppled before we own our past?
“If we believe that Jesus declared there is good news for the poor, and if we know that poverty has grown in our nation, and that people living in poor neighbourhoods are far more likely to die from Covid 19 than the wealthy, are we prepared to identify the root causes, and to treat those who are economically disadvantaged with dignity in the future? Or do we have to pray for another sporting personality or stage celebrity to name an injustice before it is rectified?
“If we believe that God loves the world, and we know that, in the world God loves, everything from the Australian coral reef to the Amazon rain forest to the Arctic Pole and even the humble bumble bee are all threatened by human failure to respect the integrity of creation, are we going to continue living so irresponsibly that the children of tomorrow will have to go to museums to see what we regard as commonplace today?
“If we believe that Jesus has mandated his disciples to heal the sick, are we going to live in the expectation that huge pharmaceutical companies and better medical technology will come up with the solutions? Or should we at least consider personal responsibility and preventative rather than responsive medicine?
“If we believe that Jesus cares that prisoners be released, and we know that the causes of crime are very often rooted in childhood trauma or deprivation, are we just going to build more prisons, or look at what can be done to prevent vulnerable people becoming potential offenders?
“And if we believe from the evidence of the gospels, that Jesus spent a hundred times more of his life on issues of healing, teaching, evangelism, and engaging face to face with people, than he ever did on bricks and mortar, are we going to going to shape the future of the church according to his priorities or remain obsessed by the upkeep of buildings and structures some of which have long been obsolete?”
Felly, lle mae proffwydoliaeth heddiw? Mae rhai Cristnogion yn gobeithio gweld rhywbeth cyffrous yn codi o addoli llesmeiriol, ond rwy i’n meddwl fod proffwydoliaeth yn digwydd pan fydd ffydd a doethineb yn cyd-fynd â’i gilydd: y doethineb i allu dirnad sut y mae Duw’n ein herio ni ar hyn o bryd. Ac mae yna lawer o broffwydi yn ein plith – ac un ohonyn nhw yw John Bell o Gymuned Iona. Wythnos neu ddwy yn ôl, roedd yn siarad ar ‘Sunday Worship’ BBC Radio 4 ac roeddwn i’n cael y teimlad fod yr hyn yr oedd yn ei ddweud yn broffwydol, roedd yn gofyn beth oedd canlyniadau ein cred Gristnogol ac yn dangos sut yr oedd yn rhaid iddyn nhw effeithio ar sut ydyn ni’n adeiladu ein byd. Dyma ychydig o’r hyn oedd ganddo i’w ddweud:
“Os ydyn ni’n credu, fel y dywedodd Iesu, ‘cewch wybod y gwirionedd a bydd y gwirionedd yn eich rhyddhau’, ydyn ni eisiau i blant fod mor anwybodus yn y dyfodol ag y mae rhai, os nad y rhan fwyaf ohonon ni, oedolion, wedi bod? Wyddoch chi, roedd yn rhaid i mi ddisgwyl nes fy mod i’n hanner cant cyn darganfod fod yr Alban yn berchen traean o’r ystadau caethweision yn Jamaica, ac mai ffrwyth caethgludo Affricanwyr ar draws yr Atlantig, oedd yn cael ei oddef gan eglwysi Cristnogol, yw ysblander Fictorianaidd Glasgow a dinasoedd eraill Prydain. Oes raid i ni ddisgwyl i gofgolofnau gael eu dymchwel cyn i ni dderbyn cyfrifoldeb am ein gorffennol?
“Os ydyn ni’n credu, fel y dywedodd Iesu, fod yna newyddion da i’r tlodion, ac os ydyn ni’n gwybod fod tlodi ar gynnydd yn ein gwlad, a bod pobl mewn ardaloedd tlawd yn llawer mwy tebyg na rhai o ardaloedd cefnog farw o Covid-19, ydyn ni’n barod i gyfaddef y gwir resymau dros hynny a bod yn barod i drin y tlodion yn ein plith gyda pharch yn y dyfodol? Neu a yw’n well gennyn ni ddisgwyl i bersonoliaeth chwaraeon neu seleb y llwyfan enwi anghyfiawnder cyn y bydd yn cael ei unioni?
“Os ydyn ni’n credu fod Duw’n caru’r byd, ac yn gwybod, yn y byd y mae Duw’n ei garu, bod popeth o riffiau coral Awstralia i fforestydd glaw’r Amazon i Begwn y Gogledd a hyd yn oed y wenynen ddisylw, yn cael eu bygwth gan fethiant pobl i barchu cyfanrwydd y cread, ydyn ni’n mynd i ddal ati i fyw mor anghyfrifol fel y bydd yn rhaid i blant yfory fynd i amgueddfeydd i weld yr hyn rydyn ni’n ei gymryd yn ganiataol heddiw?
“Os ydyn ni’n credu fod Iesu wedi rhoi hawl i’w ddisgyblion iachau’r cleifion, ydyn ni’n mynd i fyw gan ddisgwyl mai gan y cwmnïau ffarmacolegol enfawr a thrwy dechnoleg feddygol well y daw’r atebion? Neu a ddylen ni o leiaf ystyried cyfrifoldeb personol a meddygaeth ataliol yn hytrach nag ymatebol?
“Os ydyn ni’n credu fod ots gan Iesu am ryddhau carcharorion, a’n ninnau’n gwybod yn iawn fod gwreiddiau troseddu yn aml mewn trawma ac amddifadedd plentyndod, ydyn ni’n mynd i fodloni ar adeiladu mwy o garchardai neu a ydyn ni’n mynd i chwilio i weld beth ellir ei wneud i atal pobl fregus rhag dod yn droseddwyr?
“Ac os ydyn ni’n credu tystiolaeth yr efengylau, fod Iesu wedi treulio canwaith mwy o’i fywyd yn iachau, dysgu, efengylu a thrafod wyneb yn wyneb â phobl nag a dreuliodd erioed ar frics a mortar, ydyn ni’n mynd i ffurfio dyfodol ein heglwys yn ol ei flaenoriaethau neu ddal i rygnu am gynnal a chadw adeiladau a strwythurau, rhai y mae wedi eu hoes wedi hen ddod i ben?
This is the stuff of prophecy for me, because John takes fundamental truths that we recognise about God, and applies them quite directly to our responsibility for things that are going on in the world. Some of them, if not all of them, may make us quite uncomfortable – but that is what God does, he wants to move us from where we are, to building, under his guidance and with his grace, the Kingdom of God. The challenge is – what happens next? Jesus often finished his parables with “Let the one who has ears to hear, listen!”, “and”, we might add, “take action.”
Dyma beth yw hanfod proffwydoliaeth i mi, mae John yn gafael yn y gwirioneddau sylfaenol rydyn ni’n eu gwybod am Dduw ac yn eu cymhwyso’n uniongyrchol i ddangos beth yw ein cyfrifoldeb ni ynghylch yr hyn sy’n digwydd yn y byd. Efallai bod rhai, os nad y cyfan, o’r rhain, yn gwneud i ni deimlo’n eithaf anghyfforddus – ond dyna mae Duw’n ei wneud – mae eisiau i ni symud o ble rydyn ni, i adeiladu, o dan ei arweiniad a chyda’i ras, Deyrnas Dduw. Yr her yw – beth sy’n digwydd nesaf? Roedd Iesu’n gorffen ei ddamhegion yn aml gyda “Yr hwn sydd ganddo glustiau i wrando, gwrandawed!, a, gallen ni ychwanegu “a gweithredu”.
I’ve said before that coming out of lockdown would be the time when the lessons of lockdown need to be learned. That moment is now, and how shall we respond to God’s prompting and to the prophecy happening in our midst?
Rwyf wedi dweud o’r blaen mai wrth ddod allan o’r cyfnod clo yw’r adeg i ddysgu gwersi’r cyfnod clo. Yr adeg hynny yw nawr, a sut y byddwn ni’n ymateb i anogaeth Duw ac i’r broffwydoliaeth sy’n digwydd yn ein plith?
Loving God, we have learned in these times to value the ministry of many whose work was before almost invisible to us, but on which our lives and sustenance depend. In humility we give thanks for the unseen care and labour which maintains our way of life. We pray that our society will value all workers as we should, not merely in words and gestures, but with respect and proper recompense; for it was in the form of a willing servant that Jesus showed his love and care for us. Amen. Canon Carol Wardman
Deacons in the Church of God Diaconiaid yn Eglwys Dduw
A Pastoral Letter for the Teulu Asaph, from Bishop Gregory
9th July, 2020
Llythyr Bugeiliol at Deulu Asaph oddi wrth Esgob Gregory
9 Gorffennaf, 2020
Last Saturday, perhaps one of the strangest events in 900 hundred years happened in the Cathedral. In one sense, the cathedral had seen it all before; it was an ordination, joyous, prayerful, focussed on the action of the Holy Spirit. On another level, there could be no physical congregation – everyone present had a necessary part to play in the proceedings – and at one point in the service, everyone present had to don visors, in order to ensure personal protection, as we necessarily had to come within two metres of each other for the laying on of hands. It was both faintly ridiculous and deadly serious at the same time.
Y Sadwrn diwethaf oedd un o’r achlysuron rhyfeddaf mewn 900 mlynedd yn y Gadeirlan. Mewn un ffordd, roedd y gadeirlan wedi gweld y cyfan o’r blaen, ordeiniad, llawen, llawn gweddi, yn canolbwyntio ar waith yr Ysbryd Glân. Ond mewn ffordd arall, doedd dim modd cael presenoldeb cynulleidfa – roedd gan bawb a oedd yn bresennol ran hanfodol i’w chwarae yn y gweithgareddau – ac ar un adeg yn y gwasanaeth roedd yn rhaid i bawb oedd yno wisgo fisorau, amddiffyniad personol, gan fod yn rhaid i ni ddod yn nes na dwy fetr at ein gilydd wrth arddodi dwylo. Roedd braidd yn ddoniol ond yn hollol ddifrifol yr un pryd.
After discussions with the Welsh government, it had been decided that diaconal ordinations could proceed, on the grounds that it was a necessary part of their beginning of ministry, but sadly, our priest candidates will have to wait until the autumn, with the hope of easier times to come.
Ar ôl trafod gyda Llywodraeth Cymru, penderfynwyd y gellid symud ymlaen i ordeinio diaconiaid ar sail fod hynny’n rhan hanfodol o gychwyn gweinidogaeth ond, yn anffodus, bydd yn rhaid i’n hymgeiswyr am yr offeiriadaeth aros tan yr hydref, gan obeithio fod amser gwell o’n blaenau.
So, how did it feel in the cathedral last Saturday? First, surprisingly holy. Our cathedral is a “thin place”, where the barrier between heaven and earth is thin, having been a place of prayer, word and sacrament for nearly a thousand years. The gathering of people in earnest desire of seeing the Lord at work generated a sense of excitement and expectation, a sense that the Spirit was moving in that place.
Felly, sut deimlad oedd yna yn y gadeirlan y Sadwrn diwethaf? Yn gyntaf, rhyfeddol o sanctaidd. Mae ein cadeirlan yn ‘lle tenau’, mae’r ffin yno rhwng nefoedd a daear yn denau, ar ôl bod yn lle o weddi, y gair a’r sagrafennau am bron i fil o flynyddoedd. Roedd gweld pobl wedi dod ynghyd, yn deisyfu o ddifrif gweld yr Arglwydd wrth ei waith, yn codi cynnwrf a disgwyliadau, y teimlad bod yr Ysbryd yn symud yn y lle hwnnw.
Second, it was humbling. Our nine diaconal candidates are so varied: young, old, male, female, married, single, Catholic, and Evangelical. They each bring a story, of different life experiences, of different journeys of faith. There are ways in which for each one the spiritual journey to the Cathedral that day has lasted years, and been challenging, perplexing, inspiring, and transformative in turn. It was humbling as well to know that all nine feel that not only is God calling them to ministry, but that they are ready to invest their ministry in the teulu Asaph. There is something about our Church life that has caught their imagination and makes them keen and enthusiastic to share in our life and witness.
Yn ail, roedd yno ostyngeiddrwydd. Mae ein naw ymgeiswyr am y ddiaconiaeth mor amrywiol: yn ifanc, hen, dynion, merched, priod, Catholig ac Efengylaidd. Mae gan bob un ei stori, gwahanol brofiadau bywyd, gwahanol deithiau ffydd. Mewn gwahanol ffyrdd, roedd taith ysbrydol pob un i’r Eglwys y diwrnod hwnnw wedi parhau am flynyddoedd ac, yn ei thro, wedi bod yn heriol, yn astrus, yn ysbrydoli ac yn drawsffurfiol. Roedd hefyd ostyngeiddrwydd mewn gwybod bod y naw yn teimlo, nid yn unig bod Duw’n eu galw i’r weinidogaeth, ond eu bod yn barod i fuddsoddi eu gweinidogaeth yn nheulu Asaph. Mae yna rywbeth ynghylch bywyd ein Heglwys sydd wedi cydio yn eu dychymyg ac sy’n eu gwneud yn awyddus ac yn frwdfrydig dros rannu yn ein bywyd a’n tystiolaeth.
Third, the cathedral was alive with hope. These nine new ministers are deacons, servants of Jesus Christ, and called to be ambassadors of his love and of the Gospel to the world. God will use their wisdom and insights to bring them alongside people whom they can help. They will bring new life and new perspectives into the life of the teulu Asaph. We are changed by their vocation, and God will do new things through them; things that none of us, themselves included, can yet realise or anticipate.
Yn drydydd, roedd y gadeirlan yn llawn gobaith. Mae’r naw gweinidog newydd yn ddiaconiaid, gweision Iesu Grist, ac yn cael eu galw i fod yn llysgenhadon i’w gariad ac i’w Efengyl yn y byd. Bydd Duw’n defnyddio eu doethineb a’u treiddgarwch i fod gyda phobl y gallan nhw eu helpu. Fe fyddan nhw’n dod â bywyd newydd a safbwyntiau newydd i fywyd teulu Asaph. Rydyn ni’n cael ein newid gan eu galwad, a bydd Duw’n gwneud pethau newydd trwyddyn nhw, pethau nad oes yr un ohonom ni, na hwythau chwaith, hyd yma, yn gallu eu sylweddoli na’u rhagweld.
“O magnify the Lord with me, let us praise his name together.” (Psalm 34.3) I want to thank God for all that he is doing in our midst. These nine are tokens, symbolic of the work that God is doing in our common life, and building our future. I am excited by the potential exhibited in the dedication offered in these lives. I hope that that excitement is shared by all across the diocese. These nine are tokens, and representative of what God is doing in a myriad other ways in our diocese, affirming those already ordained, enabling lay ministries as people offer their own gifting and talents to the work of building God’s Kingdom.
“Mawrygwch yr Arglwydd gyda mi, a dyrchafwn ei enw gyda’n gilydd. (Salmau 34.3). Rwyf eisiau diolch i Dduw am bopeth yn mae’n ei wneud yn ein plith. Arwydd yw’r naw hyn, symbolau o’r gwaith y mae Duw’n ei wneud yn ein bywydau bob dydd, ac wrth adeiladu ein dyfodol. Rwy’n cael fy nghyffroi gan y potensial sy’n cael ei dangos yn yr ymroddiad sy’n cael ei gynnig yn y bywydau hyn. Rwy’n gobeithio y bydd pawb ar draws yr esgobaeth yn rhannu’r cyffro. Arwydd yw’r naw hyn, mae’n dangos yr hyn y mae Duw’n ei wneud mewn myrdd o ffyrdd eraill yn ein hesgobaeth, yn cadarnhau’r rhai sydd eisoes wedi’u hordeinio ac yn galluogi gweinidogaethau lleyg wrth i bobl gynnig eu rhoddion a’u talentau i gyflawni’r gwaith o adeiladu teyrnas Dduw.
At a time when the Church is greatly challenged about its future and the viability of our present structures, I see last week’s ordinations as a down-payment of hope that God isn’t finished with us yet: indeed, that he has great plans for us.
Ar adeg pan mae’r Eglwys yn wynebu heriau mawr ynghylch ei dyfodol a hyfywdra’i strwythurau presennol, rwy’n gweld yr ordeinio’r wythnos ddiwethaf fel blaendal o’r gobaith nad yw Duw wedi gorffen gyda ni eto: yn wir, fod ganddo gynlluniau mawr ar ein cyfer.
Dear all
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” St Matthew 11: 28 – end.
“He felt “feeble” and “lopsided”. It had shown him that vulnerability was part of it and not separate.” The writer Rhidian Brook, quoting Michael Rosen.
As a trained singer, I have often performed the solos from Handel’s “Messiah” – sometimes, with mum playing the accompaniment! – of which these words from Jesus form a part. Whenever I read them, I’m reminded not only of that glorious oratorio, but also of my father telling me how a yoke could be easy. With dad growing up in Abercannaid and mum being evacuated to a farm as a young child, both of my parents could remember milkmaids carrying full, heavy pails on a yoke made specifically for them. I remember Dad explaining that not a drop was lost because it fitted their shoulders so well that they could carry the load easily whilst other milkmaids had an ill-fitting yoke which gave them sores or made them lopsided. They were unable to bear the burden so well and so some of the precious milk was lost.
Jesus urges those who will listen to him to take his yoke, telling them that it is easy and they will find their burden light. That doesn’t mean that what they carry IS light – just that a well-fitting yoke will enable a greater weight to be safely carried. Jesus’ whole life showed that, although even he found the burden too much to bear and fell under the weight of what he was made to carry to the cross. Even Jesus needed a helping hand and Simon of Cyrene provided it, albeit reluctantly. Describing himself in St Matthew’s words as “gentle and humble in heart”, Jesus nevertheless faced and endured terrible suffering at the hands of those who opposed him – yet that gentleness proved to be invincible! For Jesus, vulnerability was part of his strength and not a weakness.
Today, vulnerability can still sometimes be seen as a weakness and those people described as such have been asked to shield themselves by staying at home during the ongoing pandemic. It’s also been a factor for those coming off ventilators, as in the case of the children’s writer Michael Rosen who had been dependent on one for seven weeks. It was feared that he wouldn’t survive at all but the intervention and skill of the NHS staff caring for him meant that he was put into an induced coma so that their treatment and support could help his body bear what he was facing. Although the after effects of Covid-19 have left him feeling feeble, lopsided and vulnerable, Michael Rosen is still alive where so many are not, although he still faces many challenges ahead – as do we all.
For its 60th birthday, Rosen had written a poem called ‘These are the hands’ which celebrated the hard work and team effort of all those who work in the NHS. He could not have known then that, 12 years later, he would be in such need of it himself and his poem was reissued in a musical version while he, the medical staff and his family were fighting for his life in May. That can be found on YouTube but the original follows, as a tribute to the NHS staff, carers and key workers as well as all those who help others bear whatever burdens they face or who have much to handle today.
Today – virtually, or from a social distance! – can you give or receive a helping hand, so that a burden can be eased and hope renewed?
With my prayers,
Christine.
These are the hands
These are the hands
That touch us first
Feel your head
Find the pulse
And make your bed.
These are the hands
That tap your back
Test the skin
Hold your arm
Wheel the bin
Change the bulb
Fix the drip
Pour the jug
Replace your hip.
These are the hands
That fill the bath
Mop the floor
Flick the switch
Soothe the sore
Burn the swabs
Give us a jab
Throw out sharps
Design the lab.
And these are the hands
That stop the leaks
Empty the pan
Wipe the pipes
Carry the can
Clamp the veins
Make the cast
Log the dose
And touch us last.
Michael Rosen.
The Diocesan Prayer for the week
Ever-present God;
In all the difficulties we encounter, the joys we experience, or the pains we bear,
show us how we can learn and grow through every situation.
We pray that we may not lose heart,
nor forget the treasures we can find even in the hardest times.
For this world that we pass through is the one you love;
and in your love, nothing is lost or wasted. Amen.
(Canon Carol Wardman)
LOOSENING LOCKDOWN LLACIO’R CYFNOD CLO
A PASTORAL LETTER FROM BISHOP GREGORY
for Thursday, 2nd July, 2020
LLYTHYR BUGEILIOL ODDI WRTH ESGOB GREGORY
ar gyfer dydd Iau, 2 Gorffennaf 2020
I think that we’ve all been surprised by the lockdown. When it began in mid-March, we were uncertain how long it would last, but it looked like a period of time with a definite start and a definite finish. One day the danger of the virus would be past, and we would resume life. Now we’re learning that the lockdown is going to be lifted step by step – rather like treading one’s way across a treacherous frozen lake, we’re having to test the ice ahead to see if it will bear us – whether this step can be taken safely, or whether we shall have to retreat if the virus surges once again.
Dwy’n meddwl ein bod ni i gyd wedi cael ein rhyfeddu gan y cyfnod clo. Pan ddechreuodd ganol Mawrth, doedden ni ddim yn sicr am faint y byddai’n parhau, ond roedd yn edrych y byddai’n gyfnod go hir, gyda dechrau pendant a gorffen pendant. Un diwrnod, byddai perygl y feirws y tu ôl i ni a ninnau’n ail gydio yn ein bywydau. Erbyn hyn, rydyn ni’n deall y daw’r cyfnod clo i ben gam wrth gam – rhywbeth yn debyg i droedio’n ofalus ar draws rhew twyllodrus ar lyn, mae’n rhaid i bob cam newydd fod yn ysgafn i ddechrau rhag ofn na fydd y rhew yn ein dal – a yw’n ddiogel cymryd y cam yma neu a fydd yn rhaid i ni gamu’n ôl os bydd y feirws yn codi ei ben eto.
So the rules change; in England one day the schools are returning, the next day they’re not. The rules in Wales are different from the rules in England. Is it two metres distance we must maintain, or one plus? One plus what? We can travel five miles – or more, if there’s good reason, but what would a good reason look like? Garden centres were amongst the first to open, barbers and hairdressers are taking bookings, but can they open yet? I must admit I’ve begun to get confused.
Felly, mae’r rheolau’n newid, yn Lloegr, un diwrnod mae’r ysgolion yn agor, y diwrnod nesaf maen nhw’n cau. Mae’r rheolau yng Nghymru’n wahaol i’r rhai yn Lloegr. Ai dwy fetr yw’r pellter y dylen ni gadw oddi wrth ein gilydd neu un plws? Un plws beth? Fe allwn ni deithio pum milltir, neu ymhellach os oes yna reswm da, ond sut beth yw rheswm da? Roedd canolfannau garddio ymysg y cyntaf i agor, mae barbwyr a thrinwyr gwallt yn cymryd archebion, ond a ydyn nhw’n cael agor eto? Mae’n rhaid i mi gyfaddef fy mod i’n dechrau cael fy nrysu.
Even the rules for the churches are changing frequently. One week we’re open for private prayer, but it looks as if the resumption of weddings are on their way, and new announcements are in the pipeline. The Sunday celebration of the Eucharist in our local churches for all God’s people seems a way off yet however.
Mae hyd yn oed y rheolau ar gyfer eglwysi’n newid yn aml. Un wythnos rydyn ni ar agor ar gyfer gweddïo’n breifat, ac y mae’n ymddangos y bydd priodasau’n cael eu cynnal cyn bo hir, a bod cyhoeddiadau newydd ar ei ffordd. Ond, mae’n ymddangos na fyddwn ni’n cael dathlu’r Ewcharist i holl bobl Dduw yn ein eglwysi lleol am sbel go lew eto.
We’re going to have to learn the rules of loosening lockdown, and live by them. However, the situation has become complicated, and the united front of commitment and resilience is under pressure. The beaches have become too appealing for some, the chance to renew friendships is too attractive for others, and yet many, if not most have become more cautious, we’ve learned to dance around the supermarket, weaving to preserve the two metre rule.
Bydd yn rhaid i ni ddysgu rheolau llacio’r cyfnod clo, a byw efo nhw. Ond, mae’r sefyllfa wedi dod yn gymhleth a’r ymrwymiad a’r cadernid unedig o dan bwysau. Aeth atyniad y traethau’n drech na rhai, denwyd rhai eraill gan y cyfle i adnewyddu cyfeillgarwch ac eto, mae llawer, os nad y rhan fwyaf, wedi dod yn fwy gofalus, rydyn ni wedi dysgu troedio’n ysgafn o gwmpas yr archfarchnad, gan droelli i gadw’r rheol dwy fetr.
What are the loosening lockdown rules of faith that apply in these times? How does God call upon us to relate to one another? Here are just three that are close to the top of my list.
Pa lacio ar reolau ffydd sydd yna yn y cyfnod clo? Sut mae Duw’n galw arnom ni i wneud efo’n gilydd? Dyma ddim ond tri o’r pethau sy’n agos at frig fy rhestr.
Compassion. I’ve written before about the way in which we’ve put the vulnerable in the centre of our society at this time. Our churches have done humble but important things well in these days – checking up on the shielded, delivering medicines, cooking and delivering meals, ensuring support. As we loosen lockdown, how can we remain compassionate, and as the business of life resumes, how do we find the space for others? “Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful”, said Jesus (Luke 6.36), and this is one of the chief marks of a loving Christian community.
Trugaredd Rwyf wedi ysgrifennu o’r blaen ynghylch sut rydyn ni wedi rhoi pobl fregus yng nghanol ein cymdeithas yr adeg yma. Mae ein heglwysi wedi gwneud pethau eithaf wylaidd ond go bwysig hefyd y dyddiau hyn – cadw llygad ar y rhai sy’n ynysu, danfon meddyginiaethau, coginio a danfon prydau, sicrhau cefnogaeth. Wrth i ni lacio’r cyfnod clo, sut allwn ni ddal i fod yn dosturiol, ac wrth i ni ail gydio ym manion bywyd bob dydd, sut allwn ni gadw’r lle i bobl eraill? “Byddwch yn drugarog, fel y mae eich Tad yn drugarog” meddai Iesu (Luc 6.36) a dyma un o’r pethau pwysicaf sy’n dangos cymuned Gristionogol ofalgar.
Collaboration. One of the phrases I’ve heard frequently is that “We’re in this together”, but it has, it seems to me, become far more than words. We’ve been learning to co-operate. The things that we’ve done, the things that we’ve achieved, have often been because, like the Body of Christ, we’ve acted as a body. Too often we can make Christianity a religion of private faith: my prayers, my faith, my salvation. Yet there’s always a corporate dimension – it is when two or three are gathered that Christ is among us, and together we can do more. I hope that we’ll invest in the Church, as lockdown loosens. “In him you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit.” (Ephesians 2.22) What a vision for the Teulu Asaph, that God should at home among us.
Cydweithio Un o’r dywediadau rwy’n eu clywed yn aml yw “Rydyn ni i gyd yn hyn gyda’n gilydd”, ond mae hynny, mae’n ymddangos i mi, wedi dod yn fwy na geiriau. Rydyn ni wedi bod yn dysgu cydweithredu. Mae’r pethau rydyn ni wedi’u gwneud, ein llwyddiannau, wedi digwydd oherwydd ein bod ni, fel Corff Crist ,wedi gweithredu fel un corff. Rydyn ni’n gallu gwneud Cristionogaeth, yn rhy aml, yn ffydd breifat: fy ngweddïau, fy ffydd, fy iachawdwriaeth. Eto, mae yna ddimensiwn corfforaethol bob tro – pan mae dau neu dri wedi ymgynnull, dyna pryd y daw Crist i’n plith, a gyda’n gilydd, gallwn wneud mwy. Rwy’n gobeithio y byddwn ni’n buddsoddi yn yr Eglwys wrth i’r cyfnod clo lacio. “Ynddo ef yr ydych chwithau hefyd yn cael eich cydadeiladu i fod yn breswylfod i Dduw yn yr Ysbryd.” (Effesiaid 2.22). Dyna weledigaeth i Deulu Asaph, bod Duw gartref yn ein plith.
Courage. I’ve been amazed by the way that the Church family has been bold in facing the future. We’ve not put off decisions on finance, co-operation and evangelism. We’ve not abandoned worship or mission, as if these can wait for the future. And this commitment must continue, indeed, this must be accelerated as the lockdown loosens: what new things is Christ calling us to? “Be strong and of good courage; do not be afraid, nor be dismayed” God urged Joshua as he took over from Moses (Joshua 1.9), and I am sure that God speaks the same words to us today.
Dewrder. Rwyf wedi rhyfeddu pa mor ddewr mae teulu’r Eglwys wedi bod wrth wynebu’r dyfodol. Dydyn ni ddim wedi gohirio penderfyniadau ariannol, ar gydweithredu nac ar efengylu. Dydyn ni ddim wedi troi cefn ar addoli na chenhadu, fel petai’r rhain yn gallu aros tan yn nes ymlaen. Ac mae’n rhaid i’r ymrwymiad hwn barhau, yn wir bydd yn rhaid iddo gynyddu wrth i’r cyfnod clo lacio: at ba bethau newydd y mae Crist yn ein galw ni? “bydd wrol a dewr, paid ag arswydo na dychryn” oedd anogaeth Duw i Joshua wrth iddo gymryd yr awenau oddi wrth Moses (Joshua 1:9) ac rwy’n siŵr mai dyma eiriau Duw i ni heddiw hefyd.
These are big words – and yet I think it’s fair to say that they have already been true of us over the last three months. May they also be watchwords for our future: rules for loosening lockdown, and being faithful to Christ.
Mae’r rhain yn eiriau mawr – ac eto rwy’n credu ei bod yn deg dweud eu bod eisoes wedi dod yn wir i ni yn ystod y tri mis diwethaf. Bydded iddyn nhw hefyd fod yn arwyddair i’n dyfodol ninnau hefyd: rheolau ar gyfer llacio’r cyfnod clo, a bod yn ffyddlon i Grist.