Traddododd yr Esgob "Weekend Word" ar BBC Radio Wales dri-chwarter canrif wedi Dydd VE.
Weekend Word | Dydd Buddugoliaeth yn Ewrop
On 8 May 1945, at 3pm, Prime Minister Winston Churchill announced that the war in Europe had ended. His words were typically matter-of-fact: ‘’We may allow ourselves a brief period of rejoicing, but let us not forget for a moment the toil and efforts that lie ahead."
Huge crowds spilled onto the streets and quickly gathered outside Buckingham Palace. That same day St Paul's Cathedral held 10 services attended by thousands.
What is less well known is for the first time in five years, there was no blackout and no unfurling of the blinds. What’s more the next day national newspapers carried weather reports for the first time in five years, the information previously classified for fear it could aid bombing raids.
Today we mark the 75th anniversary of that day. We recall the overwhelming relief at the news of the wars’ end. But in those same crowds, there were many who came to remember loved ones they would never see again, overwhelmed not by joy only, but also grief. There is something solemn in remembering how, in the same space, crowds expressed wildest joy and also their deepest pain.
We might relate to this today in particular. For many, the lockdown has brought an easing of some of the pressures of life and at the same time, huge challenges, especially for those on the frontline of care in the NHS and care homes.
In truth, we often pit joy and pain against each other as though they are opposites but I’m not sure that is true. Stories of those who suffer but discover new, unexpected joys show that life is always open to new potential. A New Testament writer saw how we strive to manage this tension: ‘Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross..’ He didn’t say there wasn’t pain but saw beyond it.
As we wait for the next piece of freedom from lockdown we can imagine how it felt when blackout blinds were banished and weather forecasts normalized - hope lying tantalizingly on the horizon. Living with tensions like these hint at a different kind of future. Churchill’s words seem as relevant as ever: toil and effort, yes, but something more too.
That is how it was 75 years ago. I wonder, actually, if it isn’t so very different for us today?
The Bishop offered the BBC Radio Wales Weekend Word on the 75th anniversary of VE Day.
Weekend Word | VE Day
On 8 May 1945, at 3pm, Prime Minister Winston Churchill announced that the war in Europe had ended. His words were typically matter-of-fact: ‘’We may allow ourselves a brief period of rejoicing, but let us not forget for a moment the toil and efforts that lie ahead."
Huge crowds spilled onto the streets and quickly gathered outside Buckingham Palace. That same day St Paul's Cathedral held 10 services attended by thousands.
What is less well known is for the first time in five years, there was no blackout and no unfurling of the blinds. What’s more the next day national newspapers carried weather reports for the first time in five years, the information previously classified for fear it could aid bombing raids.
Today we mark the 75th anniversary of that day. We recall the overwhelming relief at the news of the wars’ end. But in those same crowds, there were many who came to remember loved ones they would never see again, overwhelmed not by joy only, but also grief. There is something solemn in remembering how, in the same space, crowds expressed wildest joy and also their deepest pain.
We might relate to this today in particular. For many, the lockdown has brought an easing of some of the pressures of life and at the same time, huge challenges, especially for those on the frontline of care in the NHS and care homes.
In truth, we often pit joy and pain against each other as though they are opposites but I’m not sure that is true. Stories of those who suffer but discover new, unexpected joys show that life is always open to new potential. A New Testament writer saw how we strive to manage this tension: ‘Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross..’ He didn’t say there wasn’t pain but saw beyond it.
As we wait for the next piece of freedom from lockdown we can imagine how it felt when blackout blinds were banished and weather forecasts normalized - hope lying tantalizingly on the horizon. Living with tensions like these hint at a different kind of future. Churchill’s words seem as relevant as ever: toil and effort, yes, but something more too.
That is how it was 75 years ago. I wonder, actually, if it isn’t so very different for us today?