Holy Innocents (Rhagfyr 28 December 2020)

Posted on December 28, 2020 by 1urcher

Mae creulondeb byw o dan drefn despotic yn cael ei ddwyn i ganolbwynt yn sydyn yn y darlleniad heddiw o Mathew. Mae’n rhan o’r stori a adroddir unig  yn Efengyl Mathew yn unig. Fe gofiwch sut aeth y magi i ymweld â Herod i ofyn, ‘ble mae wedi ei eni i fod yn frenin yr Iddewon?’. Gofynnodd Herod am addewid gan y magi i ddychwelyd i ddweud wrtho pan oeddent wedi darganfod Iesu’r baban ond wedi cael eu rhybuddio gan angel, ni wnaethant hynny ond ymadael mewn ffordd arall. Yna mae Herod yn gorchymyn bod pob bachgen o dan ddwy oed yn cael ei ladd. Mae Joseff yn mynd â Mair a Iesu i’r Aifft.

The brutality of living under a despotic regime is brought sharply into focus by the commemoration of the massacre of the Holy Innocents. It is part of the story told only in Matthew’s Gospel. You will remember how the magi went to visit Herod to ask, ‘where is he born to be king of the Jews?’. Herod sought a promise from the magi to return to tell him when they had discovered the infant Jesus but being warned by an angel, they did not do so but departed by another way. Herod then orders that every boy under the age of two be killed. Joseph takes Mary and Jesus to Egypt.

Mae’n stori ofnadwy. Bu ysgolheigion sydd wedi wfftio’r stori fel creu llenyddol. Efallai bod dau reswm uniongyrchol pam nad oes angen i ni wneud hyn. Yn gyntaf, mae ysgrifennu Iddewig y ganrif gyntaf yn tynnu sylw at Herod yn gallu gwallgofrwydd mor ddrwg, ac mae ail hanes yn frith o enghreifftiau o farbaraidd echrydus.

It is a galling story. There have been scholars who have dismissed the story as a literary construction. There are perhaps two immediate reasons why we do not need to do this. First, first century Jewish writing points to Herod being capable of such evil madness, and second history is littered with examples of appalling barbarity.

Mae dwy nodwedd o’r stori hon sy’n werth i ni drigo ynddynt. Yn gyntaf, hediad y teulu sanctaidd i’r Aifft ac yn ail, y ffaith nad yw ein Efengylwr (Sant Mathew) yn ceisio cuddio i ffwrdd o wyneb drygioni.

There are two features of this story that are worth us dwelling upon. First, the flight of the holy family to Egypt and second, the fact that our Evangelist (St Matthew) does not try to hide away from the face of evil.

Mae dianc y teulu i’r Aifft yn codi sawl cwestiwn, yn anad dim pam mai dim ond y plentyn hwn sy’n cael ei arbed. O fewn naratif Matthew, mae awydd i ddarlunio Iesu fel math newydd o Moses. Wrth ddarllen yr ysgrythurau, mae angen i ni fod yn ymwybodol bod ysgrifenwyr ein Efengylau yn ddiwinyddion medrus yn eu hawliau eu hunain, ac felly roeddent yn gwneud pwyntiau penodol. Felly, mae cael Iesu wedi ei achub yn tanlinellu hyn, ond yn agor y cwestiwn pam na arbedwyd y boen a achoswyd i gynifer o bobl eraill? Mae hwn yn gwestiwn sy’n atseinio i lawr y canrifoedd.

The escape of the family to Egypt raises several questions, not least why only this child is spared. Within Matthew’s narrative, there is a desire to depict Jesus as a new type of Moses. When reading the scriptures, we need to be aware that the writers of our Gospels were skilled theologians in their own rights, thus they were making specific points. Thus, to have Jesus rescued underscores this, but opens the question why was the pain caused to so many others not spared? This is a question that reverberates down the centuries.

Nid bwriad Matthew yw ateb y cwestiwn hwnnw. Fodd bynnag, fel disgyblion Cristnogol mewn byd toredig mae’n un y mae angen i ni fynd i’r afael ag ef weithiau. Dechreuwn ei ateb trwy ymuno â Rachel yn wylo am ei phlant. Rydym yn galaru gyda hi ac ar brydiau yn ei dal. Yn amlach na pheidio, rydyn ni’n gwneud hynny mewn distawrwydd. Ond weithiau rydyn ni’n siarad am Dduw sy’n ein dal a’n caru. Nid darparu ateb ar gyfer y boen yw hyn, ond cyd-destun. Oherwydd, y cyfan a wn am y Duw a ddatgelwyd yn yr ysgrythur yw hyn, nid ydym ar ein pennau ein hunain.

It is not Matthew’s intention to answer that question. However, as Christian disciples in a broken world it is one that sometimes we need to address. We begin to answer it by joining with Rachel’s weeping for her children. We lament with her and at times hold her. More often than not, we do that in silence. But sometimes we speak of God who holds and loves us. This is not to provide an answer for the pain, but a context. For, all I know of the God revealed in scripture is this, we are not alone.

Mae Duw yn ein dal yn y cofleidiad dwyfol – y cwestiwn yw hwn, ydyn ni’n meiddio cael ein dal?

God holds us in the divine embrace – the question is this, do we dare to be held?

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John: Apostle and Evangelist (27 December 2020)

Posted on December 27, 2020 by 1urcher

Mae Ioan, apostol, ac efengylydd yn cael ei gofio yng nghalendr yr eglwys heddiw. Mae anghydfod ysgolheigaidd ynghylch a yw’r apostol (y pysgotwr a adawodd i ddilyn Iesu gyda’i frawd) a’r efengylydd (ysgrifennwr y Bedwaredd Efengyl) yr un person. Ni welais reswm erioed i ddadlau hynny, na pheidio â derbyn nad ysgrifennwyd yr Efengylau, y llythyrau (1, 2 a 3 Ioan) na’r Datguddiad gan yr un person.

John, apostle, and evangelist is remembered in the church calendar today. There is scholarly dispute over whether the apostle (the fisherman who left to follow Jesus with his brother) and the evangelist (the writer of the Fourth Gospel) are the same person. I have never seen a reason to dispute that, nor not to accept that the Gospels, the letters (1, 2 and 3 John) and the Revelation were not written by the same person.

Dilynodd Ioan Iesu gyda’i frawd, James. Ffurfiodd meibion ​​Zebedee, gyda Peter, oedd grŵp bach a oedd yn bresennol adeg codi merch Jairus, y Transfiguration a chyda Iesu yng Ngardd Gethsemane.

John followed Jesus with his brother, James. The sons of Zebedee, with Peter, formed a small group who were present at the raising of Jairus’s daughter, the transfiguration and with Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane.

Darlleniad yr Hen Destament ar gyfer Gweddi Hwyrol ar y diwrnod hwn yw Eseia 6: 1-8. Byddai’n dda treulio peth amser heddiw yn ei ddarllen. Gweledigaeth Duw yn y Deml yw hi, lle mae Eseia yn cael ei goresgyn â sancteiddrwydd Duw a’i angen ei hun am faddeuant. Mae’r olygfa yn y Deml yn gorffen gydag Eseia yn ymrwymo ei hun i fod yn dyst dros yr hyn a welodd.

The Old Testament reading for Evening Prayer on this day is Isaiah 6:1-8. It would be good to spend some time today reading it. It is the vision of God in the Temple, where Isaiah is overcome with the holiness of God and his own need of forgiveness. The scene in the Temple ends with Isaiah committing himself to be a witness for what he had seen.

Mae Ioan yn enghraifft wych o’r hyn y mae’n ei olygu i fod yn dyst i’r dwyfol. Mae John yn siarad am yr hyn y mae wedi’i weld a’i brofi. Mae llawer ohonoch chi’n gwybod, treuliais ychydig dros ddwy flynedd yn gweithio gyda Chenhadaeth Dinas Llundain pan adewais yr ysgol gyntaf. Gweithiais gyda chenhadwr Gwyddelig rhyfeddol, Terry Bedlow. Byddai Mr Bedlow bob amser yn dweud: dim ond yr hyn rydych chi wedi’i brofi y gallwch chi ei rannu. Nid yw wedi’i gynnwys mewn llyfrau yn unig. Mae hyn yn rhywbeth rydw i wedi gweithio’n galed i’w gofio, yn enwedig fel rhywun sydd wrth ei fodd yn darllen.

John is an excellent example of what it means to be a witness to the divine. John speaks about what he has seen and experienced. Many of you know, I spent just over two years working with the London City Mission when I first left school. I worked with a wonderful Irish missionary, Terry Bedlow. Mr. Bedlow would always say: you can only share what you have experienced. It is not just contained in books. This is something that I have worked hard to remember, especially as someone who loves to read.

Tybed beth fyddem yn ei ddweud am Dduw pe byddem yn cadw at y ‘rheol’ honno o siarad am yr hyn yr ydym wedi’i brofi yn unig? Efallai y dylai 2021 fod yn flwyddyn gweddi, astudiaeth o’r Beibl, a gwrando’n astud ar Dduw?

I wonder what we would say about God if we kept to that ‘rule’ of only speaking about that which we have experienced? Perhaps 2021 should be for us a year of prayer, bible study, and attentive listening to God?

Rheswm arall pam rwy’n ymhyfrydu yn y ffaith mai Eseia yw’r darlleniad ar gyfer y noson hon yw bod sawl rhan o’r Datguddiad. Mae’r Datguddiad yn llawn delweddau rhyfeddol sy’n cyffroi ein dychymyg. Mae Eugene Peterson, y soniais amdano ddoe, yn credu na allwch ddeall y testun heb ei ddarllen fel barddoniaeth. Rwy’n credu ei fod yn iawn. Mae barddoniaeth, fel addoliad, yn achosi inni brofi Duw.

Another reason why I delight in the fact that Isaiah is the reading for this evening is that many parts of the Revelation. The Revelation is full of fantastical images that stir our imagination. Eugene Peterson, who I mentioned yesterday, believes that you cannot understand the text without reading it as poetry. I think he is right. Poetry, like worship, causes us to experience God.

Yn ystod tymor y Nadolig hwn, gadewch inni feiddio caniatáu i’n haddoliad ein gorlethu wrth inni brofi Crist mewn ffyrdd newydd. Amen.

During this Christmas season, let us dare to allow our worship to overwhelm us as we experience Christ in new ways. Amen.

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Stephen (Rhagfyr 26 December)

Posted on December 26, 2020 by 1urcher

The day after Christmas is the feast day of Stephen. Stephen was a Greek speaking Jew. As the earliest Christian community grew, he was chosen to serve at tables so that the Apostles could continue to preach and pray. Stephen did more than serve; he spoke clearly about his faith. Stephen argued that Jesus was the Messiah and the authorities (who should have known better) were responsible for the death of the one who God had chosen. In turn, Stephen becomes the first martyr, praying for those who are killing him as he did so. You can read about Stephen in Acts 6 and 7

Y diwrnod ar ôl y Nadolig yw diwrnod gwledd Stephen. Iddew oedd yn siarad Groeg oedd Stephen. Wrth i’r gymuned Gristnogol gynharaf dyfu, roedd o’n dewiswyd i wasanaethu wrth fyrddau fel y gallai’r Apostolion barhau i bregethu a gweddïo. Gwnaeth Stephen fwy na gwasanaethu; siaradodd yn glir am ei ffydd. Dadleuodd Stephen mai Iesu oedd y Meseia ac roedd yr awdurdodau (a ddylai fod wedi gwybod yn well) yn gyfrifol am farwolaeth yr un a ddewisodd Duw. Yn ei dro, Stephen fydd y merthyr cyntaf, gan weddïo dros y rhai sy’n ei ladd wrth iddo wneud hynny. Gallwch ddarllen am Stephen yn Actau 6 and 7

Acts 7 is a comprehensive account of the history of God and God’s relationship with his people. Stephen’s speech must have taken great courage. Stephen would have been aware that he was on trial for his life, and those listening were not predisposed to his arguments. The contours of his speech are simple: God chooses and embraces, and those chosen often walked away. Stephen begins with Abraham. This is something Paul will do particularly in his letters to Galatians and the Romans. (Paul was there when Stephen died).

Mae Actau 7 yn adroddiad cynhwysfawr o hanes Duw a pherthynas Duw â’i bobl. Rhaid bod araith Stephen wedi cymryd dewrder mawr. Byddai Stephen wedi bod yn ymwybodol ei fod ar brawf am ei fywyd, ac nid oedd y rhai oedd yn gwrando yn dueddol o’i ddadleuon. Mae cyfuchliniau ei araith yn syml: mae Duw yn dewis ac yn cofleidio, ac mae’r rhai a ddewisir yn aml yn cerdded i ffwrdd. Mae Stephen yn dechrau gydag Abraham. Mae hyn yn rhywbeth y bydd Paul yn ei wneud yn arbennig yn ei lythyrau at Galatiaid a’r Rhufeiniaid. (Roedd Paul yno pan fu farw Stephen).

Why not spend some time today looking at this chapter? The experience of Jesus caused his earliest followers to rethink their own history. That cannot have been easy. It is a human trait not to want to do this. I wonder what parts of our traditions would Jesus ask us to change: how resistant would you be to doing so.

Beth am dreulio peth amser heddiw yn ddarllen ar y bennod hon? Achosodd profiad Iesu i’w ddilynwyr cynharaf ailfeddwl am eu hanes eu hunain. Ni all hynny fod wedi bod yn hawdd. Mae’n nodwedd ddynol i beidio â bod eisiau gwneud hyn. Tybed pa rannau o’n traddodiadau y byddai Iesu’n gofyn inni eu newid: pa mor gwrthsefyll fyddech chi i wneud hynny.

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The Word became flesh | Daw’r Gair yn gnawd

Posted on December 26, 2020 by 1urcher

The opening chapter of John sets things on a big canvas. Not for this evangelist a narrative that includes shepherds, astronomers, or angels. Rather John begins with the creation of the cosmos. In the beginning, he writes evoking images of the stories found at the beginning of Genesis.

Mae pennod agoriadol John yn gosod pethau ar gynfas fawr. Nid ar gyfer yr efengylydd hwn naratif sy’n cynnwys bugeiliaid, seryddwyr, neu angylion. Yn hytrach, mae John yn dechrau gyda chreu’r cosmos. Yn y dechrau, mae’n ysgrifennu gyda delweddau sy’n dwyn i gof y straeon a ddarganfuwyd ar ddechrau Genesis

John’s focus though is not just on the big canvas, but on a specific person: the word has become a human being. Eugene Petersen, the New Testament theologian, when translating the text from the Greek, wrote this, ‘The word became a human being and moved into the neighbourhood’. The delight of the Christmas story is this: God steps into human form in all its fragility and vulnerability.

Ond nid ar y cynfas mawr yn unig y mae ffocws John, ond ar berson penodol: mae’r gair wedi dod yn fod dynol. Ysgrifennodd Eugene Petersen, diwinydd y Testament Newydd, wrth gyfieithu’r testun o’r Roeg, hyn, ‘Daeth y gair yn fod dynol a symudodd i’r gymdogaeth’. Hyfrydwch stori’r Nado

This word embodied light, life, and truth. In a world that has had some very dark moments in 2020, the coming of light is important. this is one of the reasons behind the Carol for Wales initiative that I hope you embraced, encouraging people of faith and none to sing Silent Night on their doorsteps on Christmas Eve. I know that people across the nation did just that: https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-wales-55396494?fbclid=IwAR33c6UbKA1tBoB8NQc7lSI1ohEjE_XUHzP13ySG3HxsFzvtqCAYCCRELeI

Roedd y gair hwn yn ymgorffori goleuni, bywyd a gwirionedd. Mewn byd sydd wedi cael rhai eiliadau tywyll iawn yn 2020, mae dyfodiad goleuni yn bwysig. dyma un o’r rhesymau y tu ôl i’r fenter Carol for Wales yr wyf yn gobeithio ichi ei chofleidio, gan annog pobl ffydd a dim un i ganu Tawel Nos ar stepen eu drws ar Noswyl Nadolig. Gwn i bobl ledled y wlad wneud yn union hynny: https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-wales-55396494?fbclid=IwAR33c6UbKA1tBoB8NQc7lSI1ohEjE_XUHzP13ySG3HxsFzvtqCAYCCRELeI

One of the most poignant phrases of this opening passage are these words: the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not understood or extinguished it. Here there are limits in the translation whether in Welsh or English. Light invades the darkness. When just a little light creeps in, the darkness is changed. It is not totally dark anymore. For John the Evangelist, Jesus is that light, who has moved into our community and offers us a new pattern for living.

Un o ymadroddion mwyaf ingol y darn agoriadol hwn yw’r geiriau hyn: mae’r golau’n tywynnu yn y tywyllwch, ac nid yw’r tywyllwch wedi ei ddeall na’i ddiffodd. Yma mae cyfyngiadau yn y cyfieithiad p’un ai yn Gymraeg neu yn Saesneg. Mae goleuni yn goresgyn y tywyllwch. Pan nad oes ond ychydig o olau yn ymgripio i mewn, mae’r tywyllwch yn cael ei newid. Nid yw’n hollol dywyll bellach. I Ioan yr Efengylwr, Iesu yw’r goleuni hwnnw, sydd wedi symud i’n cymuned ac yn cynnig patrwm newydd inni ar gyfer byw.

More than that, in his fragility and vulnerability, he reveals to us who God is, and we are then compelled to worship him as he is and as we are.

Yn fwy na hynny, yn ei freuder a’i fregusrwydd, mae’n datgelu i ni pwy yw Duw, ac yna mae’n rhaid i ni ei addoli fel y mae ac fel yr ydym ni.

Happy Christmas to you all | Nadolig Llawen i bawb.

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Christmas in a different key | Nadolig mewn allwedd wahanol

Posted on December 24, 2020 by 1urcher

Periodically, I discover a musician that I like. I have discovered a pianist called Chilly Gonzales (not his real name apparently), and now his new album, A very Chilly Christmas. In the album he reinterprets some well-known Christmas songs. I think I will discover more of his work over 2021 hopefully. For those on-line, I have given you a link to a YouTube piece.

O bryd i’w gilydd, dwi’n darganfod cerddor rwy’n ei hoffi. Rwyf wedi darganfod pianydd o’r enw Chilly Gonzales (nid ei enw go iawn mae’n debyg), a nawr ei albwm newydd, A very Chilly Christmas. Yn yr albwm mae’n ail-ddehongli rhai caneuon Nadolig adnabyddus. Rwy’n credu y byddaf yn darganfod mwy o’i waith dros 2021 gobeithio. I’r rhai ar-lein, rwyf wedi rhoi dolen i chi i ddarn YouTube.

His reinterpretation comes because he chooses to use the minor key. It changes how we listen and appreciate the music. Sometimes things need to be different for us to understand something differently.

Daw ei ailddehongliad oherwydd ei fod yn dewis defnyddio’r mân allwedd. Mae’n newid sut rydyn ni’n gwrando ac yn gwerthfawrogi’r gerddoriaeth. Weithiau mae angen i bethau fod yn wahanol i ni ddeall rhywbeth yn wahanol.

I guess that the thing with Christmas is that we know the story very well indeed. Our understanding of that story is overlaid with our memories. As I retrieved the family Christmas decorations box, I came across (as I do each year) a photograph of my now 19-year-old boy wearing his innkeeper’s outfit. Somewhere on my phone is a video of my niece dancing with Jennifer during a visit close to Christmas. Who cannot be moved by such images, even people like me who pretend to model themselves on Ebenezer Scrooge? Christmas though sometimes loses the capacity to surprise us. We know the story, but do not very often let it come to the centre of our attention.

Dw i’n dyfalu mai’r peth gyda’r Nadolig yw ein bod ni’n gwybod y stori yn dda iawn yn wir. Mae ein dealltwriaeth o’r stori honno wedi’i gorchuddio â’n hatgofion. Wrth imi adfer blwch addurniadau Nadolig y teulu, deuthum ar draws (fel yr wyf yn ei wneud bob blwyddyn) ffotograff o fy machgen 19 oed bellach yn gwisgo gwisg ei dafarnwr. Rhywle ar fy ffôn mae fideo o fy nith yn dawnsio gyda Jennifer yn ystod ymweliad yn agos at y Nadolig. Pwy na all delweddau o’r fath eu symud, hyd yn oed pobl fel fi sy’n esgus modelu eu hunain ar Ebenezer Scrooge? Mae’r Nadolig er weithiau’n colli’r gallu i’n synnu. Rydyn ni’n gwybod y stori, ond nid ydyn ni’n aml yn gadael iddi ddod i ganol ein sylw.

The Christmas story becomes memories of children wearing tinsel and more and more creative ways of primary schools telling it in their plays rather than the story of God stepping into the world in the form of a baby. ‘God contracted to a span. Incomprehensibly made man’ penned Charles Wesley in his well know hymn.

Daw stori’r Nadolig yn atgofion am blant yn gwisgo tinsel a ffyrdd mwy a mwy creadigol o ysgolion cynradd yn ei hadrodd yn eu dramâu yn hytrach na stori Duw yn camu i’r byd ar ffurf babi. ‘God contracted to a span. Incomprehensibly made man’ ysgrifennod Charles Wesley yn ei emyn adnabyddus.

The birth/arrival of any child into the life of a family causes great disturbance. Disturbance and delight. Mary and Joseph’s world would have been turned upside down. With the briefest of details, the gospel writers, Luke, and Matthew, tell of how the news was received by those working as well as those in the corridors of power. Shepherds rushed to worship, and Herod and his advisors wondered how the birth would affect them.

Mae genedigaeth / dyfodiad unrhyw blentyn i fywyd teulu yn achosi aflonyddwch mawr. Aflonyddwch a hyfrydwch. Byddai byd Mary a Joseph wedi cael ei droi wyneb i waered. Gyda’r byrraf o fanylion, mae ysgrifenwyr yr efengyl, Luc, a Mathew, yn dweud sut y derbyniwyd y newyddion gan y rhai sy’n gweithio yn ogystal â’r rhai yng nghoridorau pŵer. Rhuthrodd bugeiliaid i addoli, ac roedd Herod a’i gynghorwyr yn meddwl tybed sut y byddai’r enedigaeth yn effeithio arnyn nhw.

Christmas is a story that calls for change. That change starts with us as individuals. It also challenges society. The song that Mary sang when she met one of his closest family members spoke of the transformation of the world (Luke 1:46-55). Her words deserve special study. I expect at times we find the words of this teenager from Nazareth uncomfortable.

Mae’r Nadolig yn stori sy’n galw am newid. Mae’r newid hwnnw’n dechrau gyda ni fel unigolion. Mae hefyd yn herio cymdeithas. Soniodd y gân a ganodd Mary pan gyfarfu ag un o aelodau agosaf ei theulu am drawsnewidiad y byd (Luc 1: 46-55). Mae ei geiriau’n haeddu astudiaeth arbennig. Rwy’n disgwyl ar adegau y bydd geiriau’r arddegau hwn o Nasareth yn anghyfforddus.

This Christmas has been stripped bare of many things. It gives us opportunity to see and hear things differently.

Nadolig Llawen | Happy Christmas to you. May you know the peace of God that thoroughly disturbs.

Mae’r Nadolig hwn wedi cael ei dynnu’n noeth o lawer o bethau. Mae’n rhoi cyfle i ni weld a chlywed pethau’n wahanol.

Nadolig Llawen | Merry Christmas i chi. Boed i chi wybod heddwch Duw sy’n tarfu’n drwyadl.

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Ceidwad y Breuddwydion (my first attempt to write a story in Welsh)

Posted on August 25, 2020 by 1urcher

I took part in a creative writng course during the early part of the lockdown. It was led by Mared Lewis. It was in Welsh, so this is my first Welsh story

You can find out more here: https://www.llenyddiaethcymru.org/ein-prosiectau/lwcommissions/mared-lewis/dysgwyr-covid/

Ar ymyl yr ystafell roedd cadair freichiau. Roedd wedi mwynhau dyddiau gwell. Yn y gadair eisteddai hen ddyn. Roedd y sbectol smudged yn clwydo ar ymyl ei drwyn. Roedd ei lygaid yn frown dwfn. Roedd gan ei wyneb lawer o linellau, creithiau o lawenydd a phoen. Ochneidiodd Gwynn wrth iddo sefyll i fyny. Roedd yn anodd symud nawr heb boen. Symudodd i wneud paned. Roedd gwên fach. Cofiodd Gwyn. Roedd ganddo boced hud o hyd.

Trodd Gwynn y tap ymlaen yn araf. Roedd y dŵr wedi dripio i’r tegell. Mae’r tapau’n wyrdd rhydlyd.

llusgodd Gwynn ei hunain ar draws i roi’r tegell ymlaen, gan fflicio’r switsh yn ofalus. Gwnaeth Gwynn bopeth yn ofalus. Roedd yn rhaid iddo.

Roedd y gegin wedi gweld dyddiau gwell. Roedd y ffenestr wedi cracio. Yn y bore, gwelodd Gwyn olau’r haul yn cyffwrdd â’r crac, a’r golau’n dawnsio. Roedd y ffenestr wedi cracio o hyd. Roedd y bwrdd yn llychlyd. Ni eisteddodd neb arno mwyach.

Roedd yn well ganddo fwyta o flaen y teledu, yn eistedd yn y gadair freichiau flinedig.

Roedd angen paentio’r gegin, meddyliodd Gwynn. Yn sydyn dywedodd yn uchel, ‘mae angen ail-baentio’r tŷ’. Roedd wedi synnu at sŵn ei lais. Prin y clywodd ei hun erioed. Nid oedd unrhyw un i siarad ag ef, dim ond yn ei freuddwydion.

Ef oedd ceidwad y breuddwydion.

Mae’n agor y cwpwrdd, yn ofalus. Gwelodd ei lygaid y ffotograffau ar du mewn y cwpwrdd. Goleuwyd ei wyneb â gwên, yn fyr. Roedd y lluniau wedi blino. Roedden nhw’n hen. ‘Fel fi!’, Ochneidiodd Gwynn.

Diffoddodd y tegell wrth i Gwynn gipio’r mwg o’r cwpwrdd. Roedd y mwg wedi gweld dyddiau gwell. Fel y ffenestr, roedd crac ynddo. Enw’r mwg oedd ‘Brawd’. Nid oedd golau haul i ddawnsio gyda’r crac hwn, dim ond ei atgofion.

Aeth Gwynn â’i goffi drwodd i’r ystafell fyw ac eistedd yn ei gadair. Wrth ymyl y gadair roedd bwrdd. Ar y bwrdd roedd ei ffôn. Ni ganodd erioed, ac ni ddefnyddiodd ef erioed. Nid oedd yn siŵr a allai gofio’r rhif. Roedd llyfrau ar y bwrdd hefyd, ac albwm o luniau, na edrychodd arno erioed.

Roedd Gwyn yn gwisgo’r un siwmper siarcol â ddoe, crys-t coch a throwsus du. Roedd poced ei drowsus yn felyn. Roedd poced felen ar bob un o’i drowsusau.

Cyrhaeddodd am yr albwm a’i agor. Roedd pob un o’r ffotograffau mewn du a gwyn. Roedd rhai o plentyndod, eraill o weithgareddau pan oedd y bachgen yn ifanc. Wrth i Gwyn fflicio hyd y diwedd, gorffwysodd ei lygaid ar lun o ferch. Sibrydodd ‘Mair Ann’. Caeodd y llyfr a’i roi i lawr. Meddyliodd ‘Mair Ann’ Gwynn wrtho’i hun. Roedd y cyfan mor bell yn ôl. Roedd y ffotograff yn unlliw, ond mae ei atgofion yn fyw. Roedd hi’n gwisgo ffrog siarcol. Roedd y ffrog wedi gweld dyddiau gwell. Ar y ffrog roedd poced felen.

Safodd Gwynn ar ei draed a theimlo’n ofalus am ei boced felen. Gwnaeth Gwynn bopeth yn ofalus. Roedd yn rhaid iddo.

Yn araf dadsyniodd Gwynn ei boced hud. Wrth iddo agor y boced, dechreuodd yr ystafell yr eisteddodd ynddi ddiflannu.

Act Dau

Eisteddodd Gwynn yn ei gadair freichiau gytew yng nghornel yr ystafell. Wrth ymyl y gadair roedd bwrdd. Ar y bwrdd roedd ffôn, pentwr o lyfrau, a ffotograff mewn ffrâm felen newydd. yn y ffotograff roedd dau ffigur mewn golwg glir: hen ddyn â’r hyn a allai fod yn wyres iddo, ond nid yn wir. Roedd Gwynn a Mair Ann wedi bod yn yr ysgol gyda’i gilydd. Roedd un wedi heneiddio, nid oedd y llall wedi gwneud hynny. Roedd y ddau ohonyn nhw’n gwisgo dillad lliw siarcol, ac roedd gan bob un boced felen. Roedd yn dri mis ers i’r llun gael ei dynnu.

Agorodd Gwynn ei lygaid ac addasu i’r ystafell felen y safai ynddi. Yn araf, edrychodd o amgylch yr ystafell. Gwnaeth Gwynn bopeth yn araf nawr – yn araf ac yn ofalus. Symudodd y llenni gwyrdd ychydig gyda’r awel dyner. Allan o gornel ei lygad, gallai Gwynn weld crac ar y ffenestr. Wrth iddo weld yr haul yn dawnsio yng adlewyrchiad y ffenestr, siaradodd llais ysgafn ag ef: ‘Croeso! Ceidwad breuddwydion! ’Nid oedd Gwynn wedi clywed y disgrifiad hwnnw mewn amser mor hir.

Nid oedd angen iddo droi o gwmpas i wybod pwy oedd yn siarad. Dros y degawdau lawer ers eu cyfarfod diwethaf, roedd atgofion Gwynn wedi cael y llais dro ar ôl tro. Roedd yn llais cyfeillgarwch, caredigrwydd, a hyfrydwch. ‘Helo Gwynn, fy hen ffrind’. Nid oedd yr hen ddyn yn gwybod a ddylid troi rownd ai peidio. Roedd yn amser mor hir ers iddynt ffarwelio â’i gilydd. Roedd yn gwybod ei fod wedi newid. Roedd yn hŷn. ‘Rwy’n hynafol’, ochneidiodd Gwynn wrtho’i hun. Wedi’i rewi i’r fan a’r lle, ni ellid ffurfio geiriau wrth i galeidosgop o anturiaethau orlifo ei atgofion gan wrthdaro â’r gobeithion a’r dyheadau a oedd ganddynt ar gyfer y dyfodol. Sibrydodd ‘Helo;, a ydw i yn ôl?’

Yno o’i flaen safai Mair Ann. Gwenodd hi. Gwenodd. Nid oedd hi wedi newid, roedd wedi heneiddio. Roedd Gwynn yn gwybod y gallai nawr gyfrif yr holl flew ar ei ben, ond roedd Mair Ann yr un peth yn union. Nid oedd hi wedi gweld dyddiau gwell. ‘Beth ddigwyddodd i chi?’ Gofynnodd hi. Roedd distawrwydd. Roedd bron yn ddiddiwedd. ‘Gadewais i fy mreuddwydion dyfu’, atebodd Gwynn yn isel. Roeddent wedi bod yn ffrindiau yn yr ysgol. Ef oedd cadw breuddwydion a hi oedd gwneuthurwr cof. Nid oeddent wedi gweld ei gilydd ers y diwrnod hwnnw amser maith yn ôl.

Nid oedd wedi bod yn anhapus, meddyliodd Gwynn wrtho’i hun. Roedd wedi treulio ei oes fel athro, yn helpu eraill i gyflawni eu breuddwydion. Yn y blwch ar ei silff, roedd ganddo nifer o lythyrau yn dweud diolch. ‘Ydych chi am fod yn ôl?’, Gofynnodd hi, gan dorri ar draws ei feddyliau. Ar gynifer o ddyddiau, ni fyddai unrhyw betruster wedi bod. Edrychodd, a gwenodd yn drist a dechreuodd y waliau melyn ddawnsio o’r golwg.

Gwnaeth Gwyn panad o de i’w hun. Ar y mwg oedd y gair, ‘ewythr’. Eisteddodd yn y gegin. Penderfynodd ysgrifennu at ei deulu. Fe geisiodd yn galed i gadw mewn cysylltiad, ond weithiau roedd y tristwch a deimlai yn annioddefol.

Canodd cloch y ddrws. Roedd sŵn Calon Lan yn llenwi’r tŷ. Ni ddaeth neb erioed. Baglodd at y drws, a’i agor, gwelodd ddynes oedrannus. Gwenodd hi. Roedd hi’n gwisgo ffrog siarcol gyda phoced felen wedi’i phwytho â llaw. ‘Rwy’n ôl’, meddai, a

dechreuodd Gwynn wylo.

Act Tri

Bob bore, roedd o’n cerdded i’r ysgol, gan gau giât yr ardd y tu ôl iddo yn ofalus rhag ofn i’r gath ddilyn. I lawr y lôn, a thros y bont reilffordd. Roedd Gwynn yn cofio’r teithiau cerdded unig i’r ysgol bob bore, wedi’u gwisgo yn ei wisg ysgol siarcol gyda’r boced felen.

Roedd yr ysgol a oedd yn eistedd wrth droed y bryn wedi’i gwneud allan o’r hyn a oedd yn edrych fel llechen ddu. Roedd y grisiau yn llwm, ac ni fyddai Gwynn byth yn breuddwydio am fynd i fyny.

Un bore, wrth iddo gau’r giât yn ofalus y tu ôl iddo, clywodd lais. Gwnaeth Gwynn bopeth yn ofalus. Gwenodd Gwynn wrtho’i hun wrth iddo gofio. ‘Helo’ wedi meddai llais merch, ‘Myfi yw Mair Ann’. Roedd hi’n gwisgo ffrog siarcol gyda phoced felen. Nid oedd angen gofyn i ble roedd hi’n mynd, ac nid oedd Gwynn yn gofyn o ble roedd hi wedi dod. Fe wnaethant gerdded gyda’i gilydd mewn distawrwydd i’r ysgol ac yn ôl. Nid oedd gan Gwynn unrhyw beth i’w ddweud fel arfer.

Digwyddodd hyn am dair neu bedair blynedd. Tua diwedd eu hamser yn yr ysgol, gofynnodd Mair Ann yn sydyn i Gwynn, ‘a ydych chi byth yn pendroni beth fyddech chi’n ei ddarganfod pe byddech chi’n mynd i fyny’r grisiau?’. Ni feddyliodd Gwynn erioed amdano. Dywedwyd wrtho am beidio â mynd i fyny, a pheidiwch byth â meddwl tybed a ddylai wneud hynny.

Roedd rhywbeth am Mair Ann a barodd i Gwynn wneud pethau na fyddai fel rheol yn eu gwneud. Efallai y byddwch bron yn dweud iddi wneud iddo fyw ei freuddwydion. Ar ddiwrnod olaf ond un yr ysgol, gan fod y diwrnod bron â dod i ben, dechreuodd y ddau ohonyn nhw ddringo’r grisiau. Ar ben y set gyntaf o risiau, roedd tri drws. Roedd dau ohonyn nhw ar gau, ac un ychydig yn agored. Ni allai Gwynn gredu’r hyn yr oedd yn ei wneud, wrth iddo wthio wrth y drws. O amgylch yr ystafell, roedd cypyrddau ar y wal, pob un o liw siarcol, gyda label melyn arnyn nhw. Roedd enw ar bob label. Yn fuan daeth llygaid Gwynn o hyd i’r cwpwrdd gyda’i enw arno. Yn araf ac yn ofalus, agorodd y cwpwrdd. Y tu mewn roedd label melyn, gyda siarcol yn llythrennu arno. ‘ceidwad y breuddwydion’. Gosododd Gwynn y label yn ei law, ei fys yn olrhain y geiriau. Safodd Mair Ann a Gwynn mewn distawrwydd. Clywsant ôl troed yn dod i lawr y grisiau, a dechreuodd y drws agor.

Roedd Gwynn yn meddwl tybed beth fydden nhw’n ei ddweud. Cymerodd Mair Ann ei law, a dechreuodd yr ystafell yr oeddent yn sefyll ynddi ddiflannu.

Roedd Gwynn yn ôl yn ei gadair freichiau. Wrth ei ymyl roedd bwrdd. Ar y bwrdd wrth ymyl y ffôn, nad oedd byth yn canu, roedd llyfrau, yr hen label o’r cwpwrdd, ac albymau ffotograffau.

Roedd y label wedi gweld dyddiau gwell, ond prin y cyffyrddwyd â’r albymau. Ynddyn nhw roedd ffotograffau o Gwynn a’i frawd iau, Owain, a Gwynn gyda’i nai, Jacob. Nid oedd Gwynn yn gwybod ble roedden nhw nawr.

Roedden nhw wedi cwympo allan oherwydd eu breuddwydion. Roedd Gwynn yn aml yn meddwl tybed beth fyddai’n digwydd pe bai’n rhoi ffotograff yn ei boced hud. Clywodd Gwynn Mair Ann yn y gegin, a meddwl tybed ‘beth petai. ‘Dim defnydd’, ochneidiodd Gwynn. Y cwestiwn a ofynnodd bob amser yw beth fyddent wedi’i ddarganfod pe bai wedi aros nes i’r drws agor yn lle cymryd llaw Mair Ann.

Ar y foment honno, canodd y ffôn. Edrychodd Gwynn arno a rhoi ei law yn ei boced a dechreuodd yr ystafell ddiflannu.

Biog

Mae Kevin Ellis yn wreiddiol o Sheffield. Mae o’n falch iawn o’i wreiddiau yn Swydd Efrog. Mae Kevin yn Ficer ar Ynys Môn ac mae wedi bod wrth ei fodd yn dysgu Cymraeg. Mae Kevin wedi mwynhau’r profiad o ysgrifennu’n greadigol yn Gymraeg. Fel y gallwch weld, mae gan Kevin ddychymyg byw!

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Three Phone Calls: The day my Dad died

Posted on July 23, 2020 by 1urcher

On the day, my dad died, there were three phone calls amongst many others

The first was at 10:30. I made it from the office of Latymer Christian Fellowship to home. Dad was terminally ill. I knew that. I spoke to my younger brother. Sibling words were exchanged. Words that in the moment were meant and the day after meant little were spoken. I knew I would not make it. Ladbroke Grove to St Pancras would be thirty minutes, and then the trains. I sat in worship. Victor spoke. I had no clue what he was saying, even though he was a skilled expositor. I spoke to my minister, should I stay or should I go. He advised me to stay. At least that is what my memory banks now tell me. ‘Are you coming?’. The train would have got in just after three, and then there would have been the bus. I did not go. I regretted it then. I regret it now. I would have been late, but at least I would have tried.

He was a good man, said someone on his housing estate a couple of days before his funeral. Too right, he was a good man. There was an old Pentecost chorus that I sang in my brief sojourn in the Elim Church in Southey Green. It goes something like this: ‘when God looks at me, he sees not what I used to be, but He sees Jesus’. Theologically, that is true. But in some ways, the best of me is from my parents. My dad’s deep melancholy brown eyes. His moist eyes as he emotionally engaged with people.

I remember the moistness of his eyes when he was made redundant. I was 16. Maggie did it. Well that is both true and not true. Sheffield was decimated with unemployment. He coped at first by going inward (that is me), and then he went outwards: art and walking. I still have one of his painting of the cooling towers that are not there any more near Meadowhall. No one should be thrown on the scrap heap.

I had been home the weekend before. We had had a family meal. Dad had sent me back to London with Jennifer. We had been married only two years. She was a House Officer working incredibly long hours. Dad cared about that. He loved her.

At about 1pm, I phoned home. Doris answered. She was a family friend. Everyone had gone to hospital. Dad had been taken in. I could not get there now. The Fellowship were in the park having a picnic. It was a warm day in July. It was suddenly cold. It would not be long now, I thought. 12 weeks earlier, I had sat with him on that hospital bed. The consultant came round. A few years before this he had had half a lung removed. His recovery had been great. The consultant explained that the cancer had returned, and Dad would have 12 weeks. That is what he had. Dad asked me to tell Mum, who was yet to arrive at the hospital. A trainee chaplain came round and asked how my Dad was doing. Dad replied with a smile, ‘I am dying’. He was a believer; he was so confident about going to be with his Lord. I wonder whether I will be as confident when my time comes.

I tell my Mum. She is devastated. I get the train back to London to listen to a professor speak at the graduate seminar I am part of. I had not completed my PhD then. Dad wanted me to go back. He loved education. He loved me unconditionally. I have no idea what the professor talked about. Dad did not get the opportunity to study as I had done.

Just after four I ring home again. Mum answered. Dad died at three in the afternoon as his vicar read the words of the Nunc Dimittis which begins ‘Lord, now let your servant depart in peace’. Apparently, someone told my Dad that I was there before he died. I so wanted to be. Death is not nothing at all, despite the poem that is read at funerals. It is evil. It is the great destroyer. He died peacefully, as Mum released him. The vicar was a decent, hardworking man. Dad would have been devastated with how the local church abandoned my mum in the years that followed.

He was a good, brave man. The difference between him and me. I fear my own shadow at times. He was not. Sheffield steel was embedded in his soul. That is my prayer for the day that I will have a transplant.

George Ellis: I miss you. We will meet again. Of that, I am sure.

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Homily. Homili Trinity/Y Drindod 6

Posted on July 22, 2020 by 1urcher

Trinity/Y Drindod 6

Rhannodd yr Apostol Paul bobl rhwng y rhai a gweldodd bod “yng Nghrist” a’r rhai nad oeddent. Roedd y rhai oedd “yng Nghrist” yn feibion ​​(a merched) mabwysiedig i Dduw. Roedd hyn yn bosibl, i Paul, oherwydd bywyd, marwolaeth ac atgyfodiad Iesu. Felly i Paul; Iesu oedd y gonglfaen yr adeiladwyd popeth arall arni.

The Apostle Paul divided people between those who saw as being “in Christ” and those who were not. Those who were “in Christ” were adopted sons (and daughters) of God. This was possible, for Paul, because of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. Therefore for Paul; Jesus was the cornerstone on which everything else was built.

Mae’n rhoi bywyd i ni, yn ôl Paul, ein bod ni’n cael ein mabwysiadu i deulu Duw. Fel pobl Gristnogol mae gennym yr hawl i alw Duw yn Dad. Mae Paul yn defnyddio’r gair Aramaeg, ‘Abba’, sydd ychydig yn fwy agos atoch yn ei ddefnydd. Mae bron yn gyfwerth â ‘Daddy’. Os ewch i’r Dwyrain Canol neu dreulio peth amser yn y DU yn gwrando ar blant Iddewig neu Fwslimaidd, byddwch yn clywed ‘Abba’ neu ‘Abbi’ wrth i blant alw allan at eu tadau. I Paul, mae ein perthynas â Duw, fel Cristnogion, i fod i adlewyrchu hyn ar brydiau.

It is life-giving for us, according to Paul, that we are adopted into the family of God. As Christian people we have the right to call God, Father. Paul uses the Aramaic word, ‘Abba’, which is slightly more intimate in its use. It is almost equivalent to ‘Daddy’. If you go to the Middle East or spend some time in the UK listening to Jewish or Muslim children, you will hear the shrieks of ‘Abba’ or ‘Abbi’ as children call out to their fathers. For Paul, our relationship with God, as Christians, is meant at times to reflect this.

Yn y llythyr at yr eglwys yn Rhufain, lle mae’r Apostol yn nodi cyfuchliniau cred Gristnogol aeddfed. Yn y llythyr hwn, mae’n dadlau bod y credadun Cristnogol trwy Iesu Grist yn berson newydd. Mae hi neu ef, fel credwr, i fod i gael ei newid yn sylfaenol. Un canlyniad i’r trawsnewidiad hwnnw yw bod y Cristion yn etifedd. Mae mabwysiadu yn gwneud hynny. Mae’n broses sy’n rhoi hawliau cyfreithiol penodol i’r plentyn. Mae hyn yn bwysig i Paul oherwydd ei fod yn ceisio yn ei weinidogaeth sefydlu’r ffaith y gallai Cenhedloedd gael eu cynnwys fel dilynwyr Iesu, y Meseia Iddewig, fel Cenhedloedd. P’un a allai rhywun nad oedd yn Iddewig fod yn un o ddilynwyr y Meseia ai peidio oedd y ddadl fwyaf bywiog ym mlynyddoedd cynnar yr Eglwys Gristnogol. Felly, mae’r Apostol yn dadlau bod Duw yn mabwysiadu pob Cristion; ni yw’r cyd-etifeddion gyda Iesu, ein Harglwydd.

In the letter to the church at Rome, where the Apostle is setting out the contours of a mature Christian belief. In this letter, he argues that the Christian believer is through Jesus Christ a new person. She or he, as a believer, is meant to be fundamentally changed. One result of that transformation is that the Christian is an heir. Adoption does that. It is a process that confers legally certain rights upon the child. This is important for Paul because he was seeking in his ministry to establish the fact that Gentiles could be included as followers of Jesus, the Jewish Messiah, as Gentiles. Whether or not someone who was not Jewish could be a follower of the Messiah was the liveliest debate in the early years of the Christian Church. Thus, the Apostle contends that all Christians are adopted by God; we are the co-heirs with Jesus, our Lord.

Byddwch yn falch o wybod nad yw bywyd Cristnogol wedi’i gyfyngu i eiriau trafodiad cyfreithiol i Paul yn unig, mae’n antur wych. Mae ‘yr holl greadigaeth’ yn datgan yr Apostol, ‘yn aros gyda hiraeth eiddgar’ i’r ddrama ddwyfol gael ei dadorchuddio. Mae llawer ohonom, rwy’n disgwyl, yn cael trafferth gyda’r ddelweddaeth hon neu’n gallu diswyddo Paul fel rhy zealous. Pe bai Paul yn perthyn i’n Ardal Weinidogaeth, byddem wrth ein bodd, ond efallai y bydd ambell ochenaid o ryddhad pe bai’n mynd i un o’r eglwysi eraill. Ac eto, mae’r ffydd Gristnogol i fod i newid popeth, gan ddechrau gyda ni.

You will be pleased to know that for Paul the Christian life is not merely confined to the words of a legal transaction, it is a great adventure. ‘All creation’ declares the Apostle, ‘waits with eager longing’ for the divine drama to be unveiled. Many of us, I expect, struggle with this imagery or can dismiss Paul as a zealot. If Paul belonged to our Ministry Area, we would be delighted, but there may be a few sighs of relief if he went to one of the other churches. Yet, the Christian faith is meant to change everything, beginning with us.

Mae’r antur fawr y mae Paul yn siarad amdani wedi’i gwreiddio yn Iesu Grist. Mae marwolaeth ac atgyfodiad Iesu nid yn unig yn gonglfaen i’r gred Gristnogol, ond yn garreg gyffwrdd ar gyfer newid yn y byd. Wrth i ni baratoi i fynd yn ôl i mewn i adeiladau eglwysig, pa mor betrus bynnag, mae’n anodd credu y gall llond llaw, neu sawl llond llaw, o bobl newid fod yn stiwardiaid newid o’r fath. Ond mae Cristnogion ar hyd y canrifoedd wedi credu’r gwirionedd syml hwn: mae Crist yn ein caru ni, wedi marw droson ni, ac wedi ein newid ni – ac yn ein galw i weithio mewn partneriaeth ag ef i newid y byd.

The great adventure that Paul speaks of is rooted in Jesus Christ. The death and resurrection of Jesus is not only the corner stone for Christian belief, but the touchstone for change in the world. As we prepare to go back into church buildings, however tentatively, it is hard to believe that a handful, or several handfuls, of people can change be such stewards of change. But Christians throughout the centuries have believed this simple truth: Christ loves us, died for us, and has changed us – and calls us to work in partnership with him to change the world.

Pa newid yr hoffech chi ei weld yn y byd, yr eglwys a chi’ch hun?

What change would you like to see in the world, church and yourself?

Cwestiynau

1. Mae Paul yn siarad am y greadigaeth. Pa gamau personol ydych chi’n eu cymryd i ddiogelu’r amgylchedd?

2. Pa gamau all yr eglwysi yn Bro Eleth eu cymryd?

Gweithgaredd

Meddyliwch am yr hyn rydych chi wedi’i ddysgu am Dduw yn yr amser cloi hwn, ac efallai ffonio rhywun i roi gwybod iddyn nhw.

Questions

  1. Paul speaks about creation. What personal steps do you take to protect the environment?
  2. What steps can the churches in Bro Eleth take?

Activity

Think about what you have learned about God in this lockdown time, and maybe phone someone to let them know.

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Mair (Mary Magdalen)

Posted on July 22, 2020 by 1urcher

Roedd Mair Magdalen yn un o’r cyntaf i ddilyn Iesu. Roedd hi’n un o’r disgyblion oedd agosaf ato. Roedd gan Iesu fwy o ddisgyblion na’r Deuddeg yn unig. Casglodd Iesu ddynion a menywod, hen ac ifanc o’i gwmpas. Heb os, roedd gan Mary Magdalen enw da. Mae rhywfaint o’r hyn sy’n cael ei ddweud amdani yn ddamcaniaethol. Yr hyn sydd heb amheuaeth yw hyn: roedd hi ymhlith y tystion cyntaf i’r atgyfodiad, ac efallai’r cyntaf i gwrdd â’r Iesu atgyfodedig.

Mary Magdalene was one of the first to follow Jesus. She was one of the disciples who was closest to him. Jesus had more disciples than just the Twelve. Jesus gathered men and women, young and old around him. Undoubtedly, Mary Magdalen had a certain reputation. Some of what is said about her is conjecture. What is without doubt is this: she was amongst the first witnesses to the resurrection, and perhaps the first to meet the risen Jesus.

Roedd hi wrth y groes wrth i Iesu farw. Gwyliodd Mair gorff toredig ei ffrind yn cael ei roi ym meddrod Joseff ac aeth ar ddiwrnod cyntaf yr wythnos i’r beddrod i eneinio corff ei ffrind hi. Pan gyrhaeddodd y beddrod, mae hi’n darganfod bod y garreg wedi’i rholio i ffwrdd, a’r beddrod yn wag. Nid yw corff Iesu yno.

She was by the cross as Jesus died. Mary watched the broken body of her friend be placed in the tomb of Joseph and went on the first day of the week to the tomb to anoint her friend’s body. When she got to the tomb, she finds that the stone is rolled away, and the tomb is empty. The body of Jesus is not there.

Mae awdur y Bedwaredd Efengyl yn rhoi Mair wrth y beddrod ei hun. Yno, gan wylo, mae hi’n gweld dieithryn. Mae Mary o’r farn bod y person o’i blaen yn ddieithryn ac yn gofyn ai ef yw’r garddwr. Wrth gwrs y gwnaeth hi. Roedd Iesu wedi marw. Ni fyddai Iesu yn sefyll o’i blaen. Peiriant creulon ac effeithlon oedd byddin y Rhufeiniaid. Pan groeshoeliwyd rhywun, bu farw; ac ni ddaeth dynion marw yn ôl yn fyw.

The writer of the Fourth Gospel has Mary by the tomb herself. There, while weeping, she sees a stranger. Mary believes the person in front of her is a stranger and asks whether he is the gardener. Of course, she did. Jesus was dead. Jesus would not be stood in front of her. The Roman army was a brutal and efficient machine. When someone was crucified, they died; and dead men did not come back to life.

Mae Mair yn cydnabod Iesu pan fydd hi’n clywed ei henw. ‘Mary’. Rwy’n dychmygu y byddai wedi bod yn swn hyfryd i’w glywed. Mae Mary yn ymateb, ‘Rabbi’ – ‘Athro’. Gelwir pob Cristion yn bersonol gan Grist sy’n dweud ein henw. mae hynny’n anhygoel, er yn frawychus weithiau.

Mary recognises Jesus when she hears her name. ‘Mary’. I imagine that it would have been a beautiful sound to hear. Mary replies, ‘Rabbi’ – ‘Teacher’. Each Christian is called personally by Christ who says our name. that is amazing, although sometimes frightening.

Anfonir Mair. Anfonir apostol. Gelwir Mair yn ‘apostol i’r Apostolion’. Anfonir pob Cristion i rannu’r newyddion da. Roedd yr Apostolion, Pedr ac Ioan, Andrew, a Iago ac ati yn meddwl ei bod hi’n troelli edafedd. Nid oeddent yn credu hynny. Ni chredid Mair, ond ni wnaeth hynny ddim llai o apostol. Yn yr un modd, nid oes rhaid i bobl ein credu, er mwyn inni fod yn ffyddlon

Mary is sent. An apostle is sent. Mary is called ‘the apostle to the Apostles’. Each Christians is sent to share the good news. The Apostles, Peter and John, Andrew, and James etc thought she was spinning a yarn. They did not believe her. Mary was not believed, but that did not make her any less of an apostle. Similarly, we do not have to be believed for us to faithfully share the message.

Heb os, cafodd Mair ei thrawsnewid gan ei chyfarfyddiad â Iesu. Ni fydd llawer ohonom yn cael cyfarfod gyda Iesu fel y gwnaeth hi. Serch hynny, mae Duw yn ein galw ni am ei fod yn ein caru ni. Beth mae Duw wedi galw arnoch chi i’w wneud, a phwy mae Duw wedi gofyn ichi siarad â nhw?

Mary was undoubtedly transformed by her encounter with Jesus. Many of us will not have a meeting with Jesus like she did. Nevertheless, God calls us because he loves us. What has God called you to do, and who has God asked you to speak to?

Gweddïwch drosof wrth imi rannu’r newyddion da, a gweddïaf drosoch, gan eich bod hefyd yn gwneud yr un peth.

Pray for me as I share the good news, and I will pray for you, as you also do the same.

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Church Confident or Closing? The Coronavirus Lessons for the Church in Wales

Posted on July 21, 2020 by 1urcher

There is so much that is good about this book, offered to us at time when public worship in buildings has ceased, but a plethora of worship that is visible is taking place in Wales, as well as around the world, in homes as well as on-line or with a mixture of both. The author (Ian Rees) is to be commended for bringing out this book so quickly, although I might imagine much of it had been wrestled with by the author both alone and with others over many years. Indeed, he admits as much himself, when he notes that some of the thoughts in this book were obvious before the advent of the coronavirus (14).

 It is a timely challenge for us to reassess the number of buildings that we have as a Church in Wales throughout our nation, as well as a lament over the general poverty of our prayer and inability to root ourselves in the dynamic of the biblical story. These are things I will return too later.

However, I would suggest that the book did not need the coronavirus to be written nor are its conclusions specific to the Welsh Anglican Church. This may of course because Wales is experienced differently from place to place, I am surprised that the author does not really address the issue of language and culture. On Anglesey, with many first-language Welsh speakers, you cannot talk about effective ministry without engaging with y iaith Cymraeg.

The Church in Wales, as lockdown restrictions ease, is not closing, but perhaps it is not yet as confident as it might be. It has too many buildings, or perhaps it has too many buildings in the wrong place, at least for the old way of doing church within a static community. Buildings can now be surrounded by fields and livestock rather than by people. Rees is correct, I think, to argue that the closure of buildings should be taken away from the local worshipping community, but on reflection, I want to say that such communities should be part of the process. In many places, church buildings are part of the landscape pointing in one sense eloquently to years gone by when the Christian story shaped the contours of Wales. they are loved as places of pilgrimage, where people come to remember their loved ones, but their reason for being is forgotten, thus Rees is ‘spot-on’ to suggest that Anglican Christians in Wales no longer are familiar with the overarching story of the Bible. This is a failure of those of us who serve in ministry, as well as those who have ministered before us. How many clergy confidently share the gospel.

Ian Rees’ book though is a hopeful one. He holds out the possibility that the Welsh Anglican Church has a future. It does if it embraces change and is willing to re-embrace the mission that God has given to it, which is to proclaim the gospel of Jesus afresh in every generation.

Church confident and closing deserves careful reading, and I will be re-read, dialogue, challenge and be challenged by its contents in the months that lie ahead.

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