Myfyrdod I - Reading I

 

Mae ein stori yn dechrau gydag eiliad o ogoniant. Ond dim ond eiliad. Yn oerfel y noswaith gynnar, aeth Duw i gerdded yn yr ardd. Roedd yn olygfa hyfryd o gyfnod nid ydym wedi ei weld o’r blaen. Cyfnod o gymundeb gyda’r Duw a greasom ni. Cyfnod o ryddid, harddwch a gogoniant.

 

Our story begins with a moment of glory. But it is only a moment. In the cool of early evening, God went walking in the garden. It is a tantalising picture of a time we have never known. A time of perfect communion with the God who made us. A time of freedom, beauty and glory.

 

Aeth Duw i gerdded yn yr ardd i chwilio am ei bobl. Ond nid oedd yn gallu dod o hyd iddynt yn unman. Roeddent yn cuddio: yn noeth, wedi cywilyddio ac yn ofnus. Oherwydd roedd yr un peth roeddent wedi cael ei rybuddio amdano - yr un ffrwyth nid oeddent i fod i’w fwyta - wedi profi’n ormod o demtasiwn.

 

God went walking in the garden seeking his people. But they were nowhere to be found. They were hiding: naked, ashamed and afraid. For the one thing they had been warned of – the one fruit they had been told not to eat – had proven too great a temptation.

 

Roeddent wedi bwyta’r ffrwyth. Ar yr eiliad honno o ddewis eu hewyllys eu hunain dros ewyllys Duw, gwnaethant ddewis alltudiaeth dros gymundeb. Gwnaethant ddewis boddhad ar yr eiliad honno yn hytrach na gogoniant am byth. A gwnaethant ddewis hynny ar gyfer pawb.

 

They had eaten. And in that moment of choosing their will over God’s they chose exile over communion. They chose to take rather than to receive. They chose instant gratification over eternal glory. And they chose for all of us.

 

O’r eiliad gwnaeth Duw gerdded yn yr ardd roedd yn gallu teimlo eu cywilydd. Roedd yn gallu arogli eu hofn. Roedd eu gwrthryfela yn ei frifo. Ac roedd Duw yn drist, oherwydd y canlyniad angenrheidiol am eu gweithredoedd oedd alltudiaeth, marwolaeth, a llafur ar y caeau a phlant.

 

From the moment he set foot in the garden that day God sensed their shame. He smelled their fear. He was pained by their rebellion. And he hung his head in sadness, for the necessary consequence of their actions was exile, death, and the labour of field and child.

 

Gwnaeth Duw eu creu o lwch, eu llenwi gydag anadl o’i geg ei hun, a rŵan byddant yn dychwelyd i lwch.

 

Out of the dust he had made them, filling them with the breath of his very own mouth. Now to dust they would return.

 

Mae eu halltudiaeth yn ein halltudiaeth ni. Mae eu pechodau yn ein pechodau ni. Cywilydd, tristwch, ofn a marwolaeth: dyma sut yw’r byd pan rydym yn cuddio o’m crëwr.

 

Their exile is ours. And their sin we have made our own. Shame and sadness, fear and death: these are the ways of the world when we hide from our creator.

 

Mae pethau sy’n dechrau gyda gogoniant yn disgyn yn drasiedi yn sydyn. Rydym yn dechrau

meddwl, “Beth allai Duw ei wneud?”

 

What begins in glory descends swiftly into tragedy. And we are left to wonder, “What can God do?”

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Myfyrdod II - Reading II

 

Pan siaradodd Duw, nid oedd yn condemnio nag yn flin. Roedd yn addewid ac yn air o ffydd i’r dyn sy’n byw mewn byd o alltudiaeth a phechodau.

 

When God finally spoke it was not a word of condemnation or anger. It was a word of promise and hope spoken to a man living in the land of exile and walking in the way of sin.

 

Roedd Abraham yn dod o Ur, dinas eilunod. Ond eto daeth Duw ato. Daeth a galwodd, ac atebodd Abraham. Yn wahanol i’w dad, Adam, ni wnaeth guddio mewn cywilydd; gwrandawodd ac ufuddhaodd.

 

Abraham was a child of Ur, the city of idols. And yet God came to him. He came and called and Abraham answered. Unlike his father, Adam, he did not hide in shame; he listened and obeyed.

 

Gwnaeth Duw addewid i Abraham: Ohonoch chi bydd bendith yn dod, bendith i’ch pobl a bendith i’r byd. Byddwch yn meithrin cenedl ragorol a thry’r genedl bydd pob cenedl yn darganfod eu ffydd ynof fi.

 

God made Abraham a promise: From you will come blessing, blessing for your people and blessing for the world. You will father a great nation and through that nation all nations will find their hope in me.

 

Roedd Abraham yn credu ac yn ufuddhau. Cafodd fab, Isaac. Cafodd Isaac fab, Jacob. Cafodd Jacob deuddeg mab a fyddai’n dod yn ddeuddeg llwyth - pobl a oedd yn broffwydi a brenhinoedd - a oedd yn cario bendith Duw mewn byd a oedd wedi’i orchuddio mewn tywyllwch.

 

Abraham believed and obeyed. He fathered Isaac. Isaac fathered Jacob. And Jacob fathered twelve men who would become twelve tribes – a people of prophets and kings – carrying God’s blessing to a world shrouded in darkness.

 

Ond eto ni wnaeth bobl hynny, pobl Duw, yn dilyn ffydd Abraham. Gwnaethant betruso. Gwnaethant ddisgyn. Cafodd eiliadau o ufudd-dod ei ddilyn gan gannoedd o flynyddoedd o fawrdra ac eilunaddoliaeth.

 

And yet these people, God’s people, did not follow Abraham’s faith. They faltered. They fell. Moments of faithful obedience were followed by centuries of arrogance and idolatry.

 

Nid oedd y bobl yn cadw eu haddewidion. Ond roedd Duw yn cadw ei addewid ef. Siaradodd y proffwyd. Ac yng nghalon tywyllwch roedd golau pell yn disgleirio. Cafodd plentyn ei eni. Mab David a fyddai’n eistedd ar yr orsedd. Ef oedd am ddod â heddwch, cwnselydd gwyrthiau, Hollalluog Dduw. Gall pethau fod fel hynny eto? Gall Duw gerdded y llwybr hwn eto a theimlo cartref yn ei bobl?

 

The people could not keep their promises. But God was keeping his. The prophet spoke. And in the heart of darkness there glimmered a distant light. A child would be born. A Son of David would sit on the throne. He would be the peace-bringer, counsellor of wonders, God almighty. Could it be that once again God would walk his garden path and call his people home?

 

 

 

 

Myfyrdod III - Reading III

 

Geiriau’r proffwyd oedd ffydd yn goleuo’n wan yn y tywyllwch. Fel mellt ar hyd awyr y nos, wrth iddynt oleuo’r dirwedd am eiliad gogoneddus cyn i bopeth fynd yn ddu eto.

 

The words of the prophets were glimmers of hope in the gathered darkness. Like streaks of lightning across a night-time sky they illuminated the landscape for a glorious moment before all went black again.

 

Pan wnaethant siarad gair Duw, roeddent yn siarad am farnu ond hefyd gras, ac yn fwy na dim, ffydd. Roedd tawelwch: pedwar can mlynedd heb broffwyd, pedwar canrif heb frenin duwiol, cenedlaethau a oedd yn tybio a fyddai Duw yn cerdded gyda’i bobl eto.

 

When they spoke God’s word they spoke of judgement but also grace, and above all hope. Then there was silence: four-hundred years without a prophet, four centuries without a godly king, generations who wondered if God would ever walk with his people again.

 

Yna o’r diwedd, siaradodd yng nghanol y distawrwydd. Daeth angel yr Arglwydd i lawr i gyfarch dynes, a oedd prin yn hŷn na phlentyn. “Cyfarchion,” meddai ef, “Mae’r Arglwydd gyda chi, chi yw’r un dethol.”

 

And then at last, out of the silence, he spoke. The angel of the Lord came down from on high to greet a woman, barely more than a child. “Greetings,” he said, “the Lord is with you, favoured one.”

 

Yn y saib wedyn, a oedd yr angel yn meddwl sut fyddai hi’n ateb? A oedd yr angel yn amau ei pharodrwydd neu ei ffydd? Sut fyddai hi’n gallu cynnal holl addewidion Duw? Sut fyddai hi’n cario pwysau anghenion trwm y byd yn ei chroth?

 

In the pause that followed did the angel wonder what she might say? Did the angel doubt her willingness or her faith? How could she possibly be the bearer of all God’s promises? How could she ever carry the weight of the world’s deep longing in her womb?

 

Fel Abraham ar ucheldir mynydd Moriah, gwnaeth Mary yn llonyddwch ei ystafell gael addewid Duw. “Wele, fi yw gwasanaeth-ferch yr Arglwydd; bydded i mi yn ôl dy air.” Cymerodd hi mewn ffydd, a thrwy ffydd ufuddhaodd hi.

 

Like Abraham on the heights of Mt. Moriah, so Mary in the stillness of her room received the promise of God. “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.” In faith, she received and by faith she obeyed.

 

Cafodd ei threchu gan Ysbryd Duw a chafodd hi’r Gair byw. Roedd mab David yn dod i hawlio ei orsedd. Roedd etifedd Abraham yn dod i gael ei fendith. Roedd y plentyn roedd y genedl gyfan wedi bod yn gobeithio ac yn gweddïo amdano ar y ffordd - nid i oresgyn ond trwy ei farwolaeth a’i atgyfodiad i wasanaethu ac achub.

 

Overpowered by the Spirit of God she received the living Word. The Son of David was coming to claim his throne. The heir of Abraham was coming to receive his blessing. The child for whom a whole nation had longed and prayed was coming – not to conquer but through his death and resurrection to serve and

to save.

 

 

 

 

Myfyrdod IV - Reading IV

 

Augustus oedd y Cesar mwyaf mawreddog. Yn ystod ei deyrnas roedd yn ymddangos bod holl bŵer y byd yn ei le ac yn deillio o Rufain. Gydag un gair o’i wefusau byddai pobl y deyrnas yn gallu cael eu taflu i anhrefn. Rhoddodd un gair o'r fath enedigaeth i'r fath anhrefn, ac a ddaliwyd yn y llanw llif o bobl gyfeiliornus oedd Joseff, Mair a'r babi roedd hi’n ei chario.

 

Augustus was the greatest of all the Caesars. During his reign all the power of the world seemed to settle in and then emanate from Rome. At a single word from his lips the peoples of the empire could be thrown into chaos. One such word gave birth to such chaos, and caught up in the streaming tide of misplaced people were Joseph, Mary and the baby she carried.

 

Gwnaeth gorchymyn Caesar eu hanfon nhw allan, ond gwnaeth addewid Duw eu cario nhw’n ddiogel. Mewn meithrinfa a oedd wedi’i chreu ganddynt, ganwyd plentyn yr addewid o'r diwedd. Dyma oedd seren bell Abraham. Dyma oedd cangen Jesse. Dyma oedd mab David.

 

Caesar’s command sent them out, but God’s promise carried them safely. And in a makeshift nursery, the child of promise was finally born. Here was Abraham’s distant star. Here was Jesse’s branch. Here was David’s Son.

 

Yn nhywyllwch y caeau, ffrwydrodd yr awyr gyda bloeddiau uchel o ogoniant gan fyddin o

angylion. Cafodd bugeiliaid eu hanfon atynt - y tlawd a'r addfwyn - i ddweud wrthynt fod y brenin wedi cael ei eni, bod eu gwaredwr wedi dod.

 

In the darkness of the fields, the sky erupted with cries of glory from an army of angels. They were sent to shepherds – the poor and meek – to tell them that the king had been born, that their saviour had come.

 

Ym mhelen ddu anferth y gofod, roedd un seren yn gwarchod y noson honno. Aeth y rhai a oedd yn gwylio’r fath bethau ac yn gwybod eu pwrpas allan gydag anrhegion i ddarganfod y brenin roedd y seren wedi siarad amdano.

 

And in the great black orb of space, a single star stood sentinel that night. Those who watched such things and knew their meaning set out with gifts to find the king of whom the star had spoken.

 

Cafodd addewid Abraham ei wireddu. Cafodd ei ddisgynyddion brenin a chawsant eu bendith. Cafodd y byd hynny hefyd. Y gwŷr doeth oedd y rhai cyntaf ohonom i beidio â chael eu geni yn fab i Abraham, i addoli’r gwir frenin sy’n teyrnasu dros y byd i gyd. Rydym yn eu dilyn i Fethlehem ac yno rydym yn darganfod llawenydd.

 

Abraham’s promise was fulfilled. His descendants had their king and received their blessing. So too did the world. Those wise men from the east were the first of us not born of Abraham to worship the one, true king who reigns over all the world. We follow them to Bethlehem and there we find our joy.

 

Yn y plentyn hwnnw, gafodd ei eni mewn gwendid, daeth holl bŵer Duw. Cafodd nerth Caesar, a oedd yn estyn mor bell, ac roedd mor eithriadol, ei wneud yn druenus gyda chri gyntaf y babi. Roedd Duw yn ôl ymysg ei bobl, a bydd yn cerdded gyda nhw yn fuan.

 

In that child, born in weakness, came all the power of God. The might of Caesar, so far- reaching so extraordinary, was made pathetic at the sound of his first cry. God was back among his people, soon to walk with them again.

 

Mae’r brenin wedi dod. Mae ei addewidion wedi’u cadw. Mae’r felltith wedi codi. Mae’r byd wedi cael ei fendithio.

 

The king has come. The promises have been kept. The curse is lifted. The world is blessed.