Message of Abbot Paul - Tuesday 2nd August
Abbot Paul • August 1, 2022
Message from Fr Paul for Tuesday, 2nd August 2022
It was a great joy to welcome Cardinal Vincent Nichols to Belmont yesterday. He came to visit his old friend, Bishop Mark, and joined the community for midday prayer, lunch and recreation. It was also a real pleasure to meet Sr Carmel, who came with him. Welcoming guests is an important part of the monastic tradition, as we read in the Rule of St Benedict, and Belmont is renowned for the warm, friendly welcome we give to all those who come to visit or stay with us.
Our reading from Matthew today, (Mt 14: 22-36), recounts the episode of Jesus walking on the water, which takes place following on from the feeding of the five thousand. “Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side while he would send the crowds away. After sending the crowds away he went up into the hills by himself to pray.” At last, Jesus has some time to himself in quiet, with not even his disciples to interrupt him. Moments of solitude and silent reflection are good for all of us. Jesus shows us how necessary they are. Life cannot be all activity and noise. Jesus had this predilection for going up into the hills. While he was at prayer, not all was well with the disciples. “When evening came, he was there alone, while the boat, by now far out on the lake, was battling with a heavy sea, for there was a head-wind.” Although no more than a large lake, nevertheless the water can get very rough on the Sea of Tiberius. “In the fourth watch of the night, he went towards them, walking on the lake, and when the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. ‘It is a ghost’ they said, and cried out in fear.” The fourth was the last watch of the night, from 3am onwards, and the most frightening. It was believed that demons were abroad, returning to their homes after a night’s activities. This explains the fear of the disciples on seeing Jesus come towards them, walking on the sea, and crying out, believing him to be a ghost. Even today we talk about the darkest hour being just before dawn. If I’m not mistaken, it was at the fourth hour that the children of Israel crossed the Red Sea at the Exodus.
Once the voice of Jesus is heard, fear evaporates, but then the strangest thing happens, something quite unexpected. “But at once Jesus called out to them, saying, ‘Courage! It is I! Do not be afraid.’ It was Peter who answered. ‘Lord,’ he said ‘if it is you, tell me to come to you across the water.’ ‘Come’ said Jesus.” Peter was prone to speaking without thinking and often came out with the strangest occurrences. Why did he want to walk on the water? To be more like his master? To be truly sure that this was Jesus? To put Jesus to the test, or to test his own faith? Either way, Jesus invites him to step forward. “Then Peter got out of the boat and started walking towards Jesus across the water, but as soon as he felt the force of the wind, he took fright and began to sink. ‘Lord! Save me!’ he cried. Jesus put out his hand at once and held him. ‘Man of little faith,’ he said ‘why did you doubt?’”
While he fixed his gaze on Jesus, Peter waked tranquilly on the water, but once he began to think about himself and his own safety, he began to sink and screamed out for help. To be a person of “little faith” we have only to stop looking to Jesus and start looking instead to our own strength and ability. Yet there are times when we think more of ourselves than we do of Jesus, and that’s when things begin to go wrong. “And as they got into the boat the wind dropped. The men in the boat bowed down before him and said, ‘Truly, you are the Son of God.’” What Jesus has done causes the men in the boat, both disciples and crew, to recognise that Jesus is “truly the Son of God.”
No sooner than they land that crowds once more gather with their sick, begging that he heal them. Just as we hear repeated the phrase, “Truly, you are the Son of God,” so too the knowledge that healing comes from simply touching his garments: “they begged him just to let them touch the fringe of his cloak. And all those who touched it were completely cured.” Thinking back to my days in Peru, one of the most moving scenes was to see people rubbing their heads and their children’s heads and limbs with the tabernacle veil or with my chasuble, or simply touching me and then crossing themselves. It happened constantly and always brought tears to my eyes. I must confess to having witnessed many miracles.
From Francis to Leo: A special event with Christopher Lamb of CNN in conversation with Austin Ivereigh who commentated for the BBC on the transition from Pope Francis to Pope Leo.
On 12th June an Ecumenical Service was held at Hereford Cathedral to celebrate the 1700th anniversary of the Council of Nicea.
Archbishop Mark O'Toole, of Cardiff-Menevia presided at the Requiem Mass for Bishop Mark, while Abbot Brendan conducted his burial. Cardinal Vincent Nichols preached a homily full of warmth and affection for Bishop Mark which is reproduced below.
Bishop Mark Jabalé OSB RIP Given at his funeral by Dom Alexander Kenyon Baby Jean Pierre (Mark) Jabale was born on October 16th, 1933, in Alexandria, Egypt. As he said, himself, his background could be considered “cosmopolitan”: his father was Lebanese / French and his Mother, British / Greek / French. He also reminded people that he wasn’t Egyptian. Through his mother, Arlette, he was related to St. Jean Vianney, so it was, perhaps, no surprise that he followed in his priestly footsteps. His father, Jean, was MD of Fiat and Simca cars Europe and, maybe surprisingly or not, he did love a car – not, however, Italian cars, but German; he loved his Audis. Perhaps we should begin today by remembering his mother and father, his brothers Christian and Paul and his nieces, here today, Aline and Nathalie and Isabelle and their families – they were so dear to him and he to them and I know they miss him enormously. Young Jean wanted to join the Navy and came to England, to Belmont Abbey school but the Lord had other ideas – he ended up joining the rather land locked monastery, our dear, late Fr. Raymund opining that he wouldn’t last a month. After a rather uninspiring course of priestly studies (his words, not mine) he studied for a Licentiate in French literature in Fribourg, then a Dip Ed at Strawberry Hill and played Rugby there – the Papist Witch Doctor as he was affectionately known. Teaching followed, at Belmont, Housemaster, acting Headmaster, then to Alderwasley, our prep school in Derbyshire as Headmaster, and then back to Belmont soon after as Headmaster. In 1983 he went to Peru to build our first monastery there only to realise there was little money. So, he returned to the UK to put in a stint of fundraising with his usual zeal and determination. With his mission accomplished he was asked by Abbot Alan to return to Belmont as his prior in 1986 – Peru remained close to his heart. In 1993 he was elected Abbot. In his time as Abbot, he had to preside over the closure of the school, necessary but no less painful for him. In 2000 he was appointed coadjutor Bishop of Menevia and succeeded Bishop Mullins in 2001. He retired as Ordinary in 2008 and “retired” to Chipping Norton as parish priest, then Hendon, saying Mass for the nuns and helping with confirmations. After a spell at Archbishop’s House, Westminster, living with his great friend Cardinal Nichols, he came home to Belmont – it was as though he had never been away and he loved being back in the monastery, particularly praying the Office with the community. That’s the list, of sorts, but it doesn’t really say “who” he was. I haven’t mentioned his outstanding contribution to rowing – the 1979 coxless, lightweight four gold medal at the world championships in Bled, which almost didn’t happen as, at the last minute, he was told there was no money to send the crew. He begged, cajoled and got them there – the video footage of the final is compelling. He transformed Henley Royal Regatta, writing a computer programme for the race results – he was well ahead of his time. He coached the Oxford Boat, ran the Heads of the River Schools Regatta, and more. What an achievement from someone who had never sat in a boat but learned on the job, as he said, “from books, mainly”. It was his determination, his commitment, his love of people and his drive to share what he had that is, perhaps, one of the key things to celebrate about him. And it was underpinned by his rock-solid faith – nothing overly pious, nothing showy, but a faith and a love of the Lord built on granite. Even his occasional lack of patience (sorry Mark) extended to that faith; ‘why won’t God call me?”. At the risk of being irreverent my response was always “would you want you?”. But God did want him, and he knew it. God had a purpose for his Apostle during his life and he now rests with Him in eternity. His purpose was, simply, to bring the joy of the Lord into the lives of others, in many and varied ways. A few weeks before Mark died, Pope Francis died. When the late Pope was seriously ill the son of friends of mine who entertained Mark and I to lunch regularly, was distraught at overhearing mum and dad say the Pope may die. He couldn’t stop crying. “But darling”, they said, “you don’t know the Pope, why so very sad?”. “We do know him” came the reply, “it’s Mark”. “No, Mark isn’t the Pope”. “Oh, so when the Pope does die will Mark be Pope then?”. Mark loved that one. When Mark himself did die said son would only be pacified by picking flowers from the garden and bringing them to church for him. He wanted to show how much Mark meant to him and wanted to give a little something back. That is the real biography – a man loved, respected, a man who shared what he had, above all his faith, a man who touched so many lives and made them better.  Rest in peace our dear friend.
Our brethren in Peru were delighted with the election of Pope Leo.
