News and reflections

This faceless sculpture of St Melangell and the hare within her cloak stays in the garden here during the summer and is taken into the centre for protection from bad weather in winter. At this time of Melangell’s Feast Day there would normally be many people coming here. However, the church and centre are both locked while the Covid-19 pandemic continues and so I did some gardening. As, alone, I weeded around the statue I viewed it from differing angles and began to see it in a new light. Perhaps it was because of the buzzards and red kites flying overhead at times, but it seemed to me that, with her cloak flying around her, Melangell is taking the hare under her wing when it runs to her, actively giving it protection as well as just letting it hide. Did that lead to her taking others under her wing when she later became Abbess to the community that developed here and, as Mother Melangell, gave protection, hospitality and care to those in need of it in the place still called the sanctuary land today?

During this time of crisis, as well as the care being provided by NHS, hospice, carers and key workers, there are many others who need to find or be given shelter and support – perhaps that applies to us as well as those around or in the news. Who can we run to or what can we do to offer protection to others when we may be in isolation or at a social distance?

Psalm 91 uses the image of a mother hen to remind us that refuge can always be found under God’s wings and, as Mother Melangell prayerfully provided sanctuary for those who needed it, so can we. With care being so much needed in the complex issues facing us all, why not consider someone you know or in the news and take them under your wing in prayer for them and their situation? In the face of uncertainty and with little idea of what the ‘new normal’ will involve, may Melangell’s prayerful example inspire us to take others under our wing in prayer and know that we can all find refuge and help within the love of God, whatever the future holds:
“…under his wings you will find refuge…..you will not fear the pestilence that stalks in the darkness nor the plague that destroys at midday….I will be with them in trouble ….. and show them my salvation.” Psalm 91, vv4,6,15,16, NIV

Hello one and all,

This is the reflection I wrote for today’s online service from Esgobty, based on the Gospel reading for this, the Seventh Sunday of Easter – the Sunday after Ascension Day. The passage is St John 17: 1-11 and it’s good to see Enid Jones reading it in Welsh during the service and to share the prayers of Christine Hainsworth – thanks to them both for participating and to Michael and John who did their filming.

The videoed service is available from the Diocesan website on this link:https://dioceseofstasaph.org.uk/coronavirus/digital-prayer-and-worship/worship-from-esgobty/

  and,  as not everyone can access the videoed service, two photos are included in the reflection.

With my prayers as St.Melangell’s feast day draws near,

Christine

I’m in the garden at St Melangell’s and I hope you’ll occasionally hear some of the glorious birdsong all around. This being the time near St Melangell’s feast day, there would usually be many people coming here. Today, though, it’s deserted as the terrible toll of the Covid.-19 pandemic continues. In what’s been described as the coronacoaster of emotions and challenges we’re all having to face, the dappled sunlight shining through chestnut leaves onto the bluebells here and the dappling of these colourful flowers or in the woods behind me seem to reflect the many shades of emotion being experienced as suffering continues while creation is revealed in its spring glory. 

“Glory be to God for dappled things….. Praise him,” wrote Gerard Manley Hopkins in his poem Pied Beauty. This came to mind because of today’s Gospel, in which 

Jesus prayed, “Father, I have brought you glory on earth by completing the work you gave me to do.” Earlier, his disciples were bewildered: “What does he mean?” they ask, “We don’t understand.” Despite his own needs before his crucifixion, Jesus patiently helped them to grasp what he was telling them. “You believe at last!” he says, with evident relief, “But a time is coming, and has come, when you will be scattered, each to his own home.” 

These words may have an added resonance as we hear them amidst the Covid-19 pandemic, and as we today are scattered, many of us confined to our own homes. Perhaps, like those first disciples, we don’t understand what’s  happening and are bewildered by what we’re being told. But Jesus not only prayed for himself and his disciples, he also commissioned his followers to continue what had been begun as he prepared to leave them. The disciples were too scared to do that at first, and locked themselves away after the crucifixion. But the resurrection and later ascension of Jesus not only made God visible here on earth, humanity was raised to new heights too in Jesus’ return to the glory whence he came. Those disciples eventually rose to the challenge of a new way of life when inspired by the Holy Spirit at Pentecost and the good news of resurrection hope began to be shared. If that can happen then, it can happen today as we respond to the same commission: our lives can also be transformed when we face up to our fear, ask for God’s help in dealing with it and try to rise to the challenges before us all despite Coronavirus.

The word corona means crown, shown in the spikes of the virus. It can also mean halo and in Holman Hunt’s painting The Light of the World, Christ is shown with three coronae: the crown of thorns from his crucifixion woven into the golden crown of kingship and the halo signifying holiness.

THOSE coronae, borne of his suffering, death and resurrection, indicate that the love of Jesus is also spreading amongst us in these dark times but his words remind us that this involves suffering as well as hope:  “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

St.Melangell’s life shows that too. She had trouble accepting a way of life that she didn’t want and ran away, choosing uncertainty rather than privilege. Melangell may have spent ten solitary years here before the encounter with Prince Brochwel and she could have run away from the hunt but, in peacefully confronting violence, she drew a response of generosity from the Prince. By giving her some of his land, they both enabled this area to become a place of sanctuary, healing and hope. It still is today and, as we face isolation and uncertainty, Melangell’s bravery and Brochwel’s generosity may inspire us not to fear change and solitude but also try to rise above what threatens to drag us down in a way that may draw out the best in us all.

As with Jesus, no-one knows what Melangell looked like and her sculpture here is faceless. By contrast, the faces of many of those particularly affected by the pandemic are often seen in the media. But there are countless others too, whose faces may be unknown yet who are also contributing in often unseen ways to do what they can to help the isolated. We may be separated, but social media enables us to be reunited, though very differently. So, as we face the current closure of church buildings, the challenge to meet for worship in new ways and all that is being asked of us each day, we too can be strengthened by the prayer of Jesus for all his followers as he asks God to ”protect them …. so that they may be one as we are one.” Jesus prays for protection, not from troubles or difficulties, but for the sake of unity. 

Today, whether isolated or together, we can also be united in persevering with hope and prayer even though the future is so uncertain. It’s hard and there may be times when anxiety and grief overwhelm us and the terrible heartache and mess that this Coronavirus has created seem to dominate. But the coronae of Jesus in Hunt’s painting remind us of the resurrection hope Jesus won at such great cost, and that there will also be glorious moments when we glimpse costly Love spreading amongst us, find courage in the face of adversity or notice the glory of spring unfolding all around us, wherever we may be. And at those times, amidst the many shades of emotion caused by Covid-19, may our hearts nevertheless be lifted to echo Hopkin’s words: “Glory be to God for dappled things… Praise him.” 

Amen.

https://www.facebook.com/StAsaphDiocese/photos/a.200352890015341/3182830355100898/?type=3&theater

yPower from on High Nerth oddi Fry 

A Pastoral Letter for the Teulu Asaph, on the Eve of the Ascension 2020 

From Bishop Gregory 

Llythyr Bugeiliol i Deulu Asaph ar noswyl Dyrchafael 2020 

Oddi wrth Esgob Gregory 

The Ascension of Christ into Heaven – the feast which the Church keeps tomorrow – is a break point. It is the end of the earthly ministry of Jesus – the last time he was physically present to the disciples before he returned to the Father. This mysterious event is described in the scriptures as a literal ascent, but it is not quite like the space shuttle achieving the momentum to break free of Earth’s gravity in a literal way: it is rather a transfer from this temporal realm into the eternal, into the ubiquity of God’s presence. Although I say it is not a literal breaking free of Earth’s gravity, however, this phrase has a truth which actually makes for a magnificent metaphor.  

Mae Dyrchafael Crist i’r Nef – gŵyl y mae’r Eglwys yn ei chadw yfory – yn drobwynt. Mae’n ddiwedd gweinidogaeth ddaearol Iesu – y tro olaf yr oedd yn bresennol yn gorfforol gyda’i ddisgyblion cyn dychwelyd at y Tad. Mae’r digwyddiad dirgel hwn yn cael ei ddisgrifio yn yr ysgrythurau fel esgyniad llythrennol, ond nid fel gwennol ofod yn cyrraedd momentwm i dorri’r rhydd, yn llythrennol, o afael disgyrchiant y Ddaear ond, yn hytrach, trosglwyddiad sydd yma o’r deyrnas ddaearol hon i’r deyrnas dragwyddol, i bresenoldeb y Duw hollbresenol. Er fy mod yn dweud nad torri’n rhydd yn llythrennol o ddisgyrchiant y Ddaear sy’n cael ei ddisgrifio, mae gwirionedd yn yr ymadrodd sy’n ei wneud yn drosiant gwych. 

The gravity of Earth might be used to symbolise everything that holds us back from holiness, from the ability to enter into that fullness of life which God wills for us. In our own lives we see the failure to be all we’d like to be, and all that God would like us to be (which is what the Bible calls “sin”). In the world, we see mankind’s sin as a whole rolled out in the manifold injustices, oppressions and violence that can wrench our world out of kilter. In the Ascension, Jesus quite simply breaks free of all that, but also invites us to break free as well. In the Gospel according to Luke, almost his last words to the disciples are: “… wait patiently … until you are clothed with power from on high.” (Luke 24.49) This is an invitation to await the Holy Spirit, who will break in and empower the disciples at Pentecost to turn the world upside down, and to break free with the Gospel.  

Gellir defnyddio disgyrchiant y Ddaear fel symbol o bopeth sy’n ein cadw rhag sancteiddrwydd, sy’n ein rhwystro rhag mynd i mewn i lawnder y bywyd sef ewyllys Duw ar ein cyfer ni. Rydyn ni’n gweld yn ein bywydau ein hunain y methiant i fod yn bopeth yr hoffen ni fod, yn bopeth yr hoffai Duw i ni fod (sy’n cael ei alw’n “bechod” yn y Beibl). Yn y byd, rydyn ni’n gweld holl bechodau dynolryw yn y gwahanol anghyfiawnderau, gorthrymderau a thrais sy’n gallu taflu ein byd oddi ar ei echel. Yn y Dyrchafael, mae Iesu’n torri’n rhydd o hyn i gyd, ond mae hefyd yn ein gwahodd ninnau i dorri’n rhydd hefyd. Yn yr Efengyl yn ôl Luc, ei eiriau olaf, bron, i’w ddisgyblion yw: “… disgwyl yn amyneddgar … nes eich gwisgo chwi oddi uchod â nerth”. (Luc 24.49). Gwahoddiad yw hwn i ddisgwyl yr Ysbryd Glân a fydd yn ymddangos ac yn nerthu’r disgyblion adeg y Sulgwyn i droi’r byd wyneb i waered, ac i dorri’n rhydd gyda’r Efengyl. 

Even religion, however, can feel like gravity pulling us down at times. Weighed down with obligations, we struggle to keep going and to meet expectations. However, God simply doesn’t want faith to be like that. We are called to be a people who become acquainted with the Truth about life, embodied in the fullness of life lived and taught by Jesus and extended to us by invitation, and “the truth shall set you free” (John 8.32) 

Ond gall hyd yn oed crefydd deimlo fel disgyrchiant sy’n ein tynnu i lawr ar adegau. Llwyth o gyfrifoldebau’n pwyso arnom ni wrth i ni ymdrechu i ddal ati a chyfarfod y disgwyliadau. Ond, nid yw Duw eisiau i ffydd fod fel hyn o gwbl. Rydyn ni’n cael ein galw i fod yn bobl sy’n adnabod y Gwirionedd ynghylch bywyd, wedi ein hymgorffori yn llawnder y bywyd yr oedd Iesu’n ei fyw a’i ddysgu ac sydd wedi’i estyn i ni trwy wahoddiad, a ‘bydd y gwirionedd yn eich rhyddhau” (Ioan 8.32) 

I have written in previous weeks about how I believe that we in our own discipleship, and the nation in its life, cannot go back to old ways when we are released from lockdown. I believe that there is also a great deal of “gravity” which keeps the Church in a state of heaviness, from which we are called to break free in the power of the Spirit. The renewal of the Church will not be about going back to the glories of the past, but about finding a confidence for the future. The faith remains the same, but the Church which bears witness to it has to change. I would like to see a Church which is free of doing things the way we’ve always done them, to become a Church which reimagines worship and word and sacraments for what they are – channels enabling us to draw close to God, that he might fill us with his “power from on high”. I would like to see a Church which sees its job, not as maintaining buildings and services as they were for the last hundred years, but as building full lives, which are based on faith, on following Jesus, on serving the world in love. I would like to serve in a Church where the question on everyone’s lips is not: “How will we keep going?” but “How can we be more like Jesus?” 

Rwyf wedi sôn yn yr wythnosau a aeth heibio sut rwy’n credu na allwn ni, yn ein disgyblaeth ein hunain, nac ym mywyd y genedl, fynd yn ôl at yr hen drefn pan fyddwn wedi cael ein rhyddhau o’r cyfyngiadau symud. Rwy’n amau hefyd fod yna lawer iawn o “ddisgyrchiant” sy’n cadw’r Eglwys mewn cyflwr o drymder, a’n bod ni’n cael ein galw i dorri’n rhydd yn nerth yr Ysbryd. Nid drwy fynd yn ôl i ogoniant y gorffennol y mae adnewyddu’r Eglwys, ond drwy ganfod hyder wrth wynebu’r dyfodol. Mae’r ffydd yn aros yr un fath, ond mae’n rhaid i’r Eglwys sy’n tystiolaethu iddo newid. Hoffwn weld Eglwys sydd wedi’i rhyddhau o wneud pethau yr un ffordd ag o’r blaen, ac yn Eglwys sy’n ailddarganfod addoliad a’r gair a’r sagrafennau am yr hyn ydyn nhw mewn gwirionedd– sianelau sy’n ein galluogi ni i nesau at Dduw, fel ei fod yn gallu ein llenwi gyda’i “nerth oddi fry”. Hoffwn weld Eglwys sy’n gweld ei gwaith, nid fel cynnal a chadw adeiladau a gwasanaethau yr un fath ag yr oedden nhw gan mlynedd yn ôl, ond sy’n adeiladu bywydau llawn, yn seiliedig ar ffydd, ar ddilyn Iesu, ar wasanaethu’r byd mewn cariad. Hoffwn wasanaethu mewn Eglwys ble nad y cwestiwn ar wefusau pawb yw: “Pa mor hir fyddwn ni’n cadw i fynd?” ond “Sut allwn ni fod yn fwy fel Iesu?” 

When Jesus said to his disciples “I came that you might have life, and life in all its abundance” (John 10.10), I am sure that he saw faith as life giving, joy imparting, strength inducing, peace communicating. When I was a student in Cambridge, I remember a church which had a big notice on the way in: “In this Church we believe the fundamentals of the Christian Faith, i.e. the Authorised Version of the Bible and the 1662 Book of Common Prayer.” I can’t help feeling that that particular Church was confusing the medium with the message. The King James Bible can be a magnificent medium, and a quiet Prayer Book Communion can still nourish my soul, but they won’t do that for everyone, and Jesus told us to go out, and bring the joy of faith to others. 

Pan ddywedodd Iesu wrth ei ddisgyblion “Yr wyf i wedi dod er mwyn i ddynion gael bywyd a’i gael yn ei holl gyflawnder”(Ioan 10.10), rwy’n siŵr ei fod yn gweld ffydd fel rhywbeth bywiol, yn rhoi llawenydd, yn cynhyrchu nerth, yn cyfathrebu tangnefedd. Pan oeddwn i’n fyfyriwr yng Nghaergrawnt, rwy’n cofio eglwys gydag arwydd ar y ffordd i mewn iddi: “Yn yr Eglwys hon rydym yn credu yn hanfodion y Ffydd Gristnogol, h.y. y Fersiwn Awdurdodedig o’r Beibl a’r Llyfr Gweddi Cyffredin 1662.” Alla i ddim peidio â 

theimlo fod yr Eglwys honno’n cymysgu rhwng y cyfrwng a’r neges. Mae Beibl y Brenin Iago’n gallu bod yn gyfrwng mawreddog, ac mae Cymun tawel y Llyfr Gweddi’n dal i allu bwydo fy enaid, ond nid pawb sy’n teimlo fel hyn a dywedodd Iesu wrthyn ni i fynd allan a dod â llawenydd y ffydd i eraill. 

People want to see how things make a difference in the modern world. If faith leaves people as grumpy and as staid as ever, then people leave the faith. It’s as simple as that.  

Mae pobl eisiau gweld sut mae pethau’n gwneud gwahaniaeth yn y byd heddiw. Os yw ffydd yn gadael pobl mor bigog ac mor sidȇt ag erioed, yna bydd pobl yn gadael y ffydd. Mae mor syml a hynny! 

If I am honest with you, Clare and I need to declutter in Esgobty. When our Church buildings reopen, we will all need to declutter our discipleship, and seek “power from on high”, so that God will help us break free from the gravity of all that holds us back, and be caught up in a vision of the heaven which beckons us onward. 

A dweud y gwir, fe ddylai Clare gael gwared ar lawer o stwff o’r Esgobty. Pan fydd adeiladau ein Heglwys yn ail agor, fe ddylem ninnau gael gwared o’r “stwff” yn ein disgyblaeth a chwilio am “nerth oddi fry”, er mwyn i Dduw ein helpu i dorri’n rhydd o’r disgyrchiant sy’n ein dal yn ôl, a chael ein cadw yn y weledigaeth o’r nef sy’n ein galw ymlaen. 

May you have an amazing Ascensiontide, and a powerful Pentecost, 

Boed i chi Ddyrchafael dihafal a Sulgwyn syfrdanol

COULD WE START AGAIN PLEASE?

A Pastoral Letter for the Teulu Asaph, 4th May 2020

From Bishop Gregory

GAWN NI DDECHRAU ETO PLÎS?

Llythyr Bugeiliol ar gyfer Teulu Asaph, 4 Mai 2020

Oddi wrth Esgob Gregory

Not the Bible, but Jesus Christ Superstar. When Lloyd Webber and Rice took their show based on the Passion of Jesus to the West End, they wrote a new song to go into the production. It was sung by Mary Magdalene just after Jesus has been arrested, and events are spiralling out of control. Mary catches a glimpse of Jesus during the trial and scourging, and sings:

I think you’ve made your point now You’ve even gone a bit too far to get the message home Before it gets too frightening we ought to call a halt So could we start again, please?

Nid y Beibl, ond Jesus Christ Superstar. Pan aeth Lloyd Webber a Rice â’u sioe yn seiliedig ar Ddioddefaint Iesu i’r West End, roedden nhw wedi ysgrifennu cân newydd ar gyfer y cynhyrchiad. Roedd yn cael ei chanu gan Mair Magdalen ychydig ar ôl i Iesu cael ei arestio ac mae pethau’n chwalu allan o reolaeth. Mae Mair yn cael cip o Iesu yn ystod y treial ac yn cael ei fflangellu ac mae’n canu:

Rwy’n meddwl dy fod wedi gwneud dy bwynt nawr

Rwyt ti hefyd wedi mynd braidd yn rhy bell wrth ddweud be di be

Cyn i bethau fynd yn llawer gwaeth, beth am roi’r gorau iddi

Felly, gawn ni ddechrau eto, plîs?

I saw the show again recently on the video performance production put up on You Tube during the Easter weekend, and it’s a poignant song, reminding us that when things get out of control, we all of us tend to rethink our actions, and wonder about how things could have been done differently. There’s also a God dimension, a crying out to the Father asking for things to be different.

Well, the good news is that it can be. With God, we can always start again. It’s called repentance, and figures rather largely in the message of the scriptures. I wrote last week about Jesus being ahead of us, in our future, and God calls us to repentance and faith – to start again – in our discipleship, in our societies, in our faith.

Fe welais y sioe unwaith eto yn ddiweddar, ar y cynhyrchiad fideo a oedd wedi’i osod ar You Tube yn ystod penwythnos y Pasg. Mae’n gân ingol, mae’n ein hatgoffa, pan fydd pethau’n mynd allan o reolaeth, ein bod ni i gyd yn tueddu i ail ystyried beth ydym ni wedi’i wneud a phendroni sut y gallen ni fod wedi’u gwneud yn wahanol. Mae yna hefyd ddimensiwn o Dduw, o alw ar y Tad a gofyn i bethau fod yn wahanol.

Wel, y newyddion da yw y gallai pethau fod yn wahanol. Gyda Duw, mae yna gyfle i ailddechrau bob amser. Dyma yw edifeirwch, sy’n codi ei ben yn eithaf aml yn neges yr ysgrythur. Roeddwn i’n ysgrifennu yr wythnos diwethaf fod Iesu o’n blaen ni, yn ein dyfodol, a bod Duw yn ein galw i edifeirwch a ffydd – i ddechrau eto – yn ein disgyblaeth, yn ein cymdeithas ac yn ein ffydd.

The first call to repentance comes with baptism, when we are called to put off the old, and put on the new clothes of God’s Kingdom. Anglicans choose, like many other Christians, to do this on behalf of their children, having them baptised so that they’re claimed for the Kingdom of God from the very earliest days of their lives, and it is not always followed through, although God often has a way of worming his love in. It took fifteen years for my baptismal faith to flare into life, and I still have to turn to Christ and start again from time to time. Repentance is a way of living, of bringing ourselves always back to God. “Grant me, O Lord, to make a real beginning this day, for what I have done so far is hardly anything.” was a prayer written by Thomas a Kempis, one of the great late mediaeval spiritual writers, and it is reflects in the writings of St Paul in scripture:

I want to know Christ and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to Him in His death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead. Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Beloved, I do not consider myself yet to have laid hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize of God’s heavenly calling in Christ Jesus. All of us who are mature should embrace this point of view. (Phil.3.10-15)

Daw’r alwad gyntaf i edifeirwch gyda bedydd, pan fyddwn ni’n cael ein galw i ddiosg yr hen dillad a gwisgo rhai newydd, rhai Teyrnas Dduw. Mae Anglicanwyr yn dewis, fel llawer o Gristnogion eraill, gwneud hynny ar ran eu plant, yn eu bedyddio er mwyn iddyn nhw cael eu hawlio ar gyfer Teyrnas Duw o dyddiau cynharaf eu bywydau. Nid bod hyn yn datblygu’n ôl y disgwyl bob tro, er, yn aml, mae gan gan gariad Duw ffordd o dreiddio yn annisgwyl. Cymerodd bymtheg mlynedd i’m ffydd fedyddiol ddod yn fyw ac rwy’n dal yn gorfod troi at Grist a dechrau eto o dro i dro. Mae edifeirwch yn ffordd o fyw, o ddod â’n hunain yn ôl at Dduw pob tro. “Gad i mi, O Arglwydd, wneud dechreuad go iawn heddiw, oherwydd nid yw’r hyn rwyf wedi’i wneud hyd yma ond bron iawn ddim.” oedd y weddi a ysgrifennwyd gan Thomas a Kempis, un o’r ysgrifenwyr mawr ysbrydol yn niwedd y canol oesoedd, ac mae’n adlewyrchu ysgrifau Sant Paul yn yr ysgruthyr:

Fy nod yw ei adnabod ef, a grym ei atgyfodiad, a chymdeithas ei ddioddefiadau, wrth gael fy nghydffurfio â’i farwolaeth ef, er mwyn i mi, os yw’n bosibl, gyrraedd yr atgyfodiad oddi wrth y meirw. Nid fy mod eisoes wedi cael hyn, neu fy mod eisoes yn berffaith, ond yr wyf yn prysuro ymlaen, er mwyn meddiannu’r peth hwnnw y cefais innau er ei fwyn fy meddiannu gan Grist Iesu. Frodyr, nid wyf yn ystyried fy mod wedi ei feddiannu; ond un peth, gan anghofio’r hyn sydd o’r tu cefn ac ymestyn yn daer at yr hyn sydd o’r tu blaen, yr wyf yn cyflymu at y nod, i ennill y wobr y mae Duw yn fy ngalw i fyny ati yng Nghrist Iesu. Pob un ohonom, felly, sydd o nifer y rhai aeddfed, dyma sut y dylai feddwl. (Phil.3.10-15)

I want to write further about what repentance might mean for our society and for our Churches, but for now, let’s concentrate on where all change begins, with a change in the heart. Coronavirus has stopped our lives and our busyness. It has stopped our public rituals, whether they be our worship, our shopping, or our socialising. But we still have time to turn to God, and think about how to do our faith differently. If Jesus was calling us for the first time today, what would we want to differently? Could we start again please? May the Lord bless you with the opportunity to reset your own faith in this out-of-joint season,

Rwyf eisiau ysgrifennu ymhellach ynghylch beth allai edifeirwch ei olygu i’n cymdeithas ac i’n Heglwysi, ond am rŵan, gadewch i ni ganolbwyntio ar ble mae’r holl newid yn dechrau, gyda newid yn y galon. Mae Coronafeirws wedi stopio’n bywydau a’n prysurdeb. Mae wedi atal ein defodau cyhoeddus, yn ein haddoli, yn ein siopa neu yn ein cymdeithasu. Ond mae yna ddal amser i droi at Dduw ac i feddwl sut i wneud ein ffydd yn wahanol. Pe byddai Iesu’n ein galw am y tro cyntaf heddiw, beth fydden ni eisiau ei wneud yn wahanol? Gawn ni ddechrau eto plîs? Boed i’r Arglwydd eich bendithio gyda’r cyfle i ail osod eich ffydd eich hunain yn y tymor hwn sydd wedi mynd oddi ar ei echel.

Good Shepherd Sunday

ON THE FEAST DAY OF CATHERINE OF SIENA, 29th April 2020

AR DDYDD GŴYL CATRIN O SIENA, 29 EBRILL 2020

“I am going fishing” said Simon Peter.

“We will go with you”, [the other disciples] replied.” (John 21.3)

After all that had happened – three years of ministry with Jesus, the tumultuous events at Jerusalem, the betrayal of Jesus, the trials, the crucifixion, the tomb, the empty tomb, the resurrection appearances – at the end of it all, Peter says that he cannot think of anything better to do than to go fishing.

The story comes right at the end of the Gospel according to John, and Peter basically decides to go back to his old ways. It feels almost as if he’s said, “Right, that was exciting, but back to normality now everyone.” And we know what is going to happen in the story: the most life changing episode for Peter of all is just around the corner. (I’m not going to tell you; if you don’t know, go and read Chapter 21 of John’s Gospel.)

 “Rwy’n mynd i bysgota” meddai Simon Pedr.

“Rydym ninnau yn dod gyda thi”, atebodd [y disgyblion eraill].” (Ioan 21.3)

r ôl popeth oedd wedi digwydd – tair blynedd o weinidogaeth gydag Iesu, y digwyddiadau terfysglyd yn Jerwsalem, bradychu Iesu, y treial, y croeshoeliad, y bedd, y bedd gwag, ymddangosiadau’r atgyfodiad – ar ôl hyn i gyd, ddiwedd popeth, mae Pedr yn penderfynu na allai feddwl am unrhyw beth gwell i’w wneud na mynd i bysgota.

Mae’r hanes yn dod ar ddiwedd yr Efengyl yn ôl Ioan, ac, mewn gwirionedd, mae Pedr yn penderfynu mynd yn ôl i’w hen ffyrdd. Mae’n teimlo bron iawn fel petai’n dweud, “Oedd, roedd hynny’n gyffrous, ond yn ôl i fel yr oedd hi rŵan.” Ac fe wyddom beth sy’n mynd i ddigwydd yn y stori: mae’r digwyddiad a newidiodd fwyaf erioed ar fywyd Pedr ar fin digwydd. (Dydw i ddim yn mynd i ddweud wrthych chi; os nad ydych yn gwybod, ewch i ddarllen Pennod 21 o Efengyl Ioan)

We might be forgiven for wanting to go back to normality. We’ve had the strangest Easter of our lifetimes, and things may have been absolutely awful, and, for others, in some way perhaps a little bit exciting, but we’re probably all ready for lockdown to be over, and to get back to normality.

It is not going to happen. First of all, lives have been changed, scarred by tragedy, swayed by experience in caring for Covid patients, by the experience of isolation. Society, I think, will be more wary, and even when the Government lets us, we may not want to rush back into crowded rooms and occasions, especially if the virus is still lurking around somewhere. Secondly, the Church has changed. We’ve learned to hold meetings remotely; we’ve learned to worship and to pray differently. We’ve missed some things, but perhaps have unconsciously already let go of others. The diocese’s budget is completely thrown out, and for some, businesses are undermined, and work isn’t coming back.

Efallai y gellir maddau i ni am fod eisiau mynd yn ôl i’n hen ffyrdd, at normalrwydd. Rydym ninnau hefyd wedi cael y Pasg rhyfeddaf ein bywydau, ac efallai bod pethau wedi bod yn ofnadwy, ac, i eraill, mewn rhyw ffordd, ychydig bach yn gyffrous, ond mae’n debyg fod pob un ohonom yn barod i gael gwared ar y cyfyngiadau symud a mynd yn ôl at normalrwydd.

Ni fydd hynny’n digwydd. Yn gyntaf, mae bywydau wedi’u newid, wedi’u creithio gan drychineb, wedi’u siglo gan y profiad o ofalu am gleifion Covid, gan y profiad o ynysu. Bydd cymdeithas, rwy’n meddwl, yn fwy gwyliadwrus, ac hyd yn oed pan fydd y Llywodraeth yn caniatáu i ni, efallai na fyddwn innau eisiau rhuthro’n ôl i ystafelloedd ac achlysuron gorlawn, yn enwedig os yw’r feirws dal i lechu yn rhywle o’n cwmpas. Yn ail, mae’r Eglwys wedi newid. Rydym ni wedi dysgu cynnal cyfarfodydd o bell, rydym wedi dysgu addoli a gweddïo’n wahanol. Rydym wedi colli rhai pethau, ond, efallai, eisoes, yn ddiarwybod, wedi gollwng gafael ar bethau eraill. Mae cyllideb yr esgobaeth wedi mynd i’r pedwar gwynt ac i rai, mae eu busnesau wedi’u tanseilio ac nid yw gwaith yn dod yn ôl.

The Easter message is really telling us not to look back. Jesus is in our future, not our past. (Well, he may have worked great miracles in our past, and changed lots, but he doesn’t stay there.) He beckons us onward, and says “Come and follow me, I am making all things new.” We have a great opportunity now, to look at our Church, and at the mission of our Churches, in a new way. What is really important? What does Jesus say about clinging onto “this” or letting go of “that”? We can look at our faith, and say, “Where now, Lord?” Almost certainly, it will be for us as it was for the disciples – not back to the same old ways.

Mae neges y Pasg mewn gwirionedd yn dweud wrthym i beidio ag edrych yn ôl. Mae Iesu yn ein dyfodol, nid yn ein gorffennol. (Wel, efallai ei fod wedi gweithio gwyrthiau mawr yn ein gorffennol, ac wedi newid llawer, ond nid yw’n aros yno.) Mae’n ein galw ymlaen, ac yn dweud “Tyrd a’m dilyn i, rwyf i’n gwneud popeth yn newydd.” Mae hyn yn gyfle gwych i ni edrych ar ein Heglwys ac ar genhadaeth ein Heglwysi mewn ffordd newydd. Beth sy’n wirioneddol bwysig? Beth mae Iesu’n ei ddweud am lynu wrth ”hwn” a gollwng y “llall”? Gallwn edrych ar ein ffydd a dweud, “Ble nawr, Arglwydd?” Mae bron yn sicr y bydd hynny’r un fath i ni ag yr oedd i’r disgyblion – dim mynd yn ôl i’r hen ffyrdd.

Catherine of Siena broke all the rules. A Dominican nun, she rebuked bishops and kings, and, in a man’s world, she held her own ferociously. She was simply amazing. She winkled the Pope out of exile in Avignon, and chivvied him back to Rome, brokered peace between the Pope and Florence, marshalled the Church and wrote a spiritual classic. She was among two women (with Theresa of Avila) who were the first to be recognised as Doctors of the Church – the top slot as a Christian teacher. She died on this day in 1380. Her vision was quite simply that the Church needed to be what Jesus wanted it to be – effective in witnessing to God’s truth and God’s love.

Roedd Catrin o Siena yn torri pob rheol. Yn lleian Ddominicaidd, roedd hi’n ceryddu esgobion a brenhinoedd ac, mewn byd o ddynion, roedd hi’n dal ei thir yn ffyrnig. Yn syml, roedd hi’n anhygoel. Fe lwyddodd i berswadio’r Pab i roi’r gorau i’w alltudiaeth yn Avignon a’i annog i fynd yn ôl i Rufain, bu’n gyfryngwr hedd rhwng y Pab a Florence, cafodd drefn ar yr Eglwys ac ysgrifennodd glasur ysbrydol. Roedd yn un o’r ddwy ddynes gyntaf (Theresa o Avila oedd y llall) i gael eu cydnabod fel Doethuriaid yr Eglwys – y pinacl i athro Cristnogol. Bu farw y dydd hwn ym 1380. Ei gweledigaeth oedd, yn syml, y dylai’r Eglwys fod yr union beth yr oedd Iesu eisiau iddi fod – tystiolaethu’n effeithiol wirionedd Duw a chariad Duw.

I take heart from Catherine because her indefatigability, and I pray that when the day comes for us to come out of lockdown, we won’t just want to go back to the old ways; to be tempted, like the disciples, to go back to fishing. “We are an Easter people, and Hallelujah is our song” said St Augustine.: Hallelujah is, of course, the Hebrew for “Let’s praise the LORD God”, and praise we must, not only with our lips, but in our (changed) lives.

Mae Catrin yn fy nghalonogi i oherwydd ei dycnwch, ac rwy’n gweddïo pan ddaw’r dydd y bydd y cyfyngiadau symud yn dod i ben na fyddwn ni ddim ond eisiau mynd yn ôl at yr hen ffyrdd; na fyddwn ni, fel y disgyblion, yn cael ein temtio i fynd yn ôl at bysgota. “Rydym yn bobl y Pasg, ac Haleliwia yw ein cân” meddai Awstin Sant.

Every blessing be with you,

Haleliwia yw, wrth gwrs “Molianwn yr ARGLWYDD Dduw” , mewn Hebraeg, a rhaid i ninnau foli, nid yn uni