A Pastoral Letter to all the Faithful, Wednesday, 1st April, 2020
Christ is Risen!
He is risen indeed, hallelujah!
It is not quite time for this acclamation yet, and when we do proclaim it at the
end of next week, it will probably have to be like the Italians, and proclaimed from
our balconies (where we have them). What a joy filled acclamation it is!
I noticed a post on social media the other day which said something like: “I never
expected my Lent to be as Lenten as my Lent has been.” Never mind giving up
the alcohol, we’ve had milk and toilet paper to worry about, and we’ve all had to
give up seeing friends, family and others. Who would have thought that we’d be
giving up Church for Lent? As for buying chocolate Easter eggs, do they count as
among the necessities for which we’re allowed to shop?
That first Easter Day, we’re told that an intrepid small huddle of disciples arrived
at Jesus’ tomb while it was still dark, and discovered that the anointing of the
body that they had come to do was impossible. Jesus was not there, “he is risen”.
That astounding claim is at the heart of our Christian message, that God in Christ
was too strong to be held by the chains of death, and that new life, risen life,
broke through.
The current circumstances, though very tough, are not as tough as the Influenza
outbreak after the First World War, or the Black Death that took a third of British
lives in the fourteenth century. The nation, and the Church, will come through
it, although I cannot minimise the fear that some must feel at the possibility of
huge risk to themselves.
In such circumstances, we must put our faith in the Lord. Whether we succumb
to the virus, or whether we endure, we, who put our faith in Christ, are his, and
his promise is that he will never let us go in life, in illness or, if it comes to that, in
death –neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor
things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all
creation, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus
our Lord. (Romans 8.38,39)
And the guarantee of all this is given in Christ’s own resurrection, since he is the
firstborn from the dead (Colossians 1.18).
However, resurrection can come before the last day. God can grant us little
resurrections of the spirit of love, of generosity, or co-operation, and of hope, as
we walk with him through the valley of the shadow of death. These are not trivial,
they are the warp and weft out of which fullness of life is woven.
I urge you all to renew your faith in the risen Lord. I urge you to take next week,
Holy Week, seriously, and to travel with Jesus through Jerusalem to Gethsemane
and beyond. I urge you to hold out your hand that the Lord may take it, whatever
paths we have to walk, that he may impart hope and love and grace.
And let us pray like we’ve never prayed before. In the year 590AD, Rome was in
the clutches of plague, and my namesake, Pope Gregory, led a procession
through Rome praying for God to spare his people and bring an end to the
disease. It is said that when he arrived as the foot of the tomb of the Emperor
Hadrian, he was given a vision of the archangel Michael sheathing his sword,
which Gregory interpreted at a sign of the end of the plague. So it came to pass,
and the tomb was given a new name, so that you can visit the Castel Sant’Angelo,
the Castle of the Angel, to this day.
If I organised a procession today, the police would nab me for breaking
government regulations. They would be right, because the regulations have been
made to keep us safe, and anyway, I’m not sure that I would see Michael, or any
other angel, atop the Cathedral tower; but we can pray this prayer:
Lord Jesus Christ, you suffered death and burial for our sakes,
And rose again to save us.
We beseech you to hear us when we pray to you,
and in the midst of our tribulation, set us free.
Remove from us the threat of this virus, if it be your will,
but in all things, give us love, give us hope, give us strength.
Amen.
Llythyr Bugeiliol at yr holl Ffyddloniaid, dydd Mercher, 1 Ebrill 2020
Cododd Crist!
Cododd yn wir, haleliwia!
Nid yw’n adeg bonllefain fel hyn, ac eto, pan fyddwn yn gwneud hynny ddiwedd
yr wythnos nesaf, mae’n debyg y bydd yn rhaid i ni fod fel yr Eidalwyr a bonllefain
o’n balconïau (os oes gennym ni un). A bonllef llawn llawenydd yw hon!
Sylwais ar bost ar y cyfryngau cymdeithasol y diwrnod o’r blaen yn dweud
rhywbeth fel hyn: “Wnes i erioed disgwyl i’m Grawys fod mor Rawysol ag y mae
fy Ngrawys wedi bod.” Peidiwch â sôn am roi gorau i alcohol, prinder llaeth a
phapur tŷ bach ôl sy’n ein poeni erbyn hyn a does yr un ohonom yn gallu mynd i
weld ffrindiau, teulu na neb arall chwaith. Pwy fyddai wedi meddwl y byddai’n
rhaid i ni roi’r gorau i Eglwys dros y Grawys? Ac am brynu wyau Pasg, ydyn nhw’n
cael eu cyfrif ymysg y hanfodion y cawn ni fynd i’r siopau i’w prynu?
Ar Sul y Pasg cyntaf, rydym yn clywed am griw bach gwrol o ddisgyblion yn
cyrraedd bedd Iesu tra roedd dal yn dywyll a darganfod nad oedd yn bosibl
gwireddu ei bwriad o eneinio’r corff. Nid oedd Iesu yno, “mae wedi’i gyfodi”.
Yr honiad syfrdanol hwnnw sydd wrth wraidd ein neges Gristnogol, fod Duw yng
Nghrist yn rhy gryf i’w gaethiwo gan gadwyni marwolaeth a bod bywyd newydd,
bywyd atgyfodedig, wedi ymddangos.
Nid yw’r amgylchiadau presennol, er yn anodd iawn, mor anodd ag yr oedd hi
adeg y Ffliw ar ôl y Rhyfel Mawr, neu’r Pla Du pan fu farw traean o boblogaeth
Prydain yn y bedwaredd ganrif ar ddeg. Daw’r genedl, a’r Eglwys, trwyddi, er,
dydw i ddim yn bychannu’r ofn y mae’n rhaid fod rhai bobl yn ei deimlo wrth
feddwl eu bod mewn cymaint o berygl ar hyn o bryd.
Mewn amgylchiadau fel hyn, mae’n rhaid i ni roi’n ffydd yn yr Arglwydd. Yn cael
ein taro gan y feirws ai peidio, yn goddef ai peidio, rydym ni, sy’n rhoi ein ffydd
yng Nghrist, yn perthyn iddo, a’i addewid yw na fydd byth yn ein gadael mewn
bywyd, mewn salwch neu, os y daw i hynny, mewn marwolaeth – ni all angau nac
einioes nac angylion na thywysogaethau, na’r presennol na’r dyfodol, na
grymusterau nac uchelderau na dyfnderau na dim arall a grëwyd ein gwahanu ni
oddi wrth gariad Duw yng Nghrist Iesu ein Harglwydd. (Rhufeiniaid 8.38,39)
A’r warant dros hyn i gyd yw atgyfodiad Crist ei hun, y cyntaf anedig ymhlith y
meirw (Colosiaid 1.18).
Fodd bynnag, gallai atgyfodiad gyrraedd cyn y dydd olaf. Mae Duw yn gallu rhoi
atgyfodiadau bychain i ni – o ysbryd cariad, o haelioni neu o gydweithredu a
gobaith, wrth i ni gerdded gydag Ef trwy glyn cysgod angau. Nid pethau pitw yw’r
rhain, nhw yw ein hyd a’n lled ac allan ohonyn nhw mae cyflawnder bywyd yn
ymddangos.
Rwy’n annog pob un ohonoch i adnewyddu’ch ffydd yn yr Arglwydd atgyfodedig.
Rwy’n eich annog i gymryd yr wythnos nesaf, yr Wythnos Fawr, o ddifrif ac i
deithio gydag Iesu trwy Jeriwsalem i Gethsemane a thu hwnt. Rwy’n eich annog
i ddal eich dwylo allan er mwyn i’r Arglwydd eu cymryd, pa lwybrau bynnag y bydd
yn rhaid i ni eu cerdded, er mwyn iddo roi gobaith, cariad a gras.
A gadewch i ni weddïo fwy nag erioed o’r blaen. Yn y flwyddyn 590AD, roedd
Rhufain yng ngafael pla ac arweiniodd y Pab Gregory, yr un enw â mi, gyda llaw,
orymdaith trwy Rhufain yn gweddïo ar i Dduw arbed ei bobl a dod â’r afiechyd i
ben. Yn ôl y sôn, pan gyrhaeddodd fedd yr Ymerawdwr Hadrian, cafodd
weledigaeth o’r archangel Mihangel yn rhoi ei gleddyf yn ei gwain, a dehonglodd
Gregory hyn fel arwydd fod y pla ar ben. Ac felly y bu, a chafodd y bedd enw
newydd, Castel Sant’Angelo, Castell yr Angel, a gallwch ddal i fynd yno hyd
heddiw.
Petawn i’n trefnu gorymdaith heddiw, byddai’r heddlu’n gafael yn fy ngholer am
dorri rheoliadau’r llywodraeth. Nhw fyddai’n iawn, oherwydd mae’r rhain wedi’u
gwneud i’n cadw ni’n ddiogel a beth bynnag, dydw i ddim yn yn siŵr a fyddwn i’n
gweld Mihangel, nac unrhyw angel arall, ar ben tŵr yr Eglwys Gadeiriol; ond fe
allwn weddio’r gweddi hon:
Arglwydd Iesu Grist, dioddefaist farwolaeth a chefaist dy gladdu er ein
mwyn ni,
Ac atgyfodaist eto i’n hachub.
Rydym yn erfyn arnat ti i wrando arnom pan fyddwn ni’n gweddïo arnat ti,
ac yng nghanol ein trallod, rhyddha ni.
Gwareda ni rhag bygythiad y feirws hwn, os mai dyna yw dy ewyllys,
ond ym mhob peth, rhoi i ni gariad, rhoi i ni obaith, rhoi i ni nerth.
Amen.
