Blog Post

Dom Alistair Findlay RIP

Belmont Webmaster • Jan 30, 2020


Abbot Paul's Homily from the funeral is below: 


“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God still and trust in me. I am going to prepare a place for you; I shall return to take you with me, so that where I am you may be too.”


On 15th January, Fr Alistair made his way to his room after Morning Office, taking the lift, as he always did, to the second floor, then walked along the corridor. As he placed the key in the lock, he suffered a massive heart attack and died. To all of us it came as a terrible shock. We knew that last Summer he had undergone surgery at Worcester Hospital and returned to Hereford Hospital from time to time for a check up and that he took time off to rest when needed. But he continued to work hard, especially at his pastoral duties, and never intimated that he was as unwell as he knew himself to be. Almost as an act of faith, he continued to eat rather unwisely and made no attempt to live a healthier lifestyle. He took literally those words of Jesus we have just heard, “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God still and trust in me.” He knew that he could die at any moment and that the Lord would return to take him that he might be with Jesus in the Father’s house. He was not afraid to die, for he believed the Lord’s word. Every step was an act of faith. His sudden death was truly symbolic of the Christian life: we have been given the key to the door that leads to eternal life; we can put the key in the lock, but only God can open the door and let us in.


Alistair Findlay was born on 19th August 1955 in North Shields, Tynemouth, the only child of William and Joyce (née Archer). He was very proud of being a Geordie and retained a great affection for the place of his birth, as well as for the Northumbrian saints, especially St Cuthbert. He was baptised at Dunston Hill Methodist church, but confirmed as a teenager in the Church of England. He studied at the Priory Primary School, Tynemouth, and then at Tynemouth Grammar Technical School, where he took his A levels in 1976. This was followed by 3 years at the College of the Venerable Bede, Durham University, where he trained as a teacher, receiving a Certificate in Education. After teaching practice at Gaywood Park, King’s Lynn, he lived with the Taizé Community in France for two years. This was his first experience of monastic life and one that he would cherish for the rest of his life. Here he was also able to perfect his knowledge of the French language. On his return to England, he taught at Coventry Blue Coat School from 1979 to 1988, when he took up a post at St John’s Preparatory School, Enfield, North London. This was followed by two years at Haileybury Junior School, Windsor. Finally, in 1993, he took up his last teaching post as Assistant Headteacher at Topcliffe School, Birmingham, where he would remain until 2010. He was, of course, an excellent teacher, a true professional, who is remembered for the clarity of his expositions in the classroom and the charitable and fatherly way he treated his pupils. You might be surprised to learn that among the many roles he took on, he also coached rugby.


 Ever since his time at Taizé, where, in addition to running youth meetings, he was also in charge of catering – he was a first class chef, but never got the chance to share this talent at Belmont – ever since Taizé, he had been contemplating the possibility of some sort of Christian community life. At the same time, his faith deepened and matured as he devoured books on every aspect of Philosophy and Theology. He became very learned in the things of God, that spiritual journey to which the Lord invites each one of us. This prayerful reading gradually led him to think seriously about becoming a Catholic. After the necessary preparation, he was received into Full Communion on 24th March 1994, the Thursday before Palm Sunday, at the church of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour, Rednal. Following his conversion, he visited a number of monasteries, including Belmont and Mount Saint Bernard. Some of you will know that he was a frequent participant in our retreat programme. In 2010 he took early retirement and so was free to consider the possibility of a monastic vocation. Eventually, he entered Belmont in July 2012 as a postulant and was clothed in the habit on 1st February 2013 together with Br Dunstan.


 Although, on entering the monastery, he said, “I wish I had done this sooner,” nevertheless it wasn’t an easy transition from the freedom of the lay state to the restrictions of the monastic novitiate, from bachelorhood to the coenobitic life. He would soon discover that self-discipline and a stiff upper lip were not sufficient to put up with and accept the foibles and idiosyncrasies of the brethren. It’s one thing to be a guest, looking in from the outside, but quite another to be one of brothers living cheek by jowl with the others. The monastic virtues do not come easily; you have to struggle with humility, obedience, silence and charity. Although he cooperated fully with the Holy Spirit on the search for God and the quest for holiness, at times his powerful nature would get the better of him and he would express his anger openly. He once described himself as “intolerant and impatient.” One of his favourite expressions was, “I am incandescent with rage,” and although he meant it, it was said with a twinkle in his eye, as though mocking his inability to control his powerful emotions. He applied himself assiduously to his novitiate studies and to the work assigned to him. He made his First Profession on 2nd February 2014 and his Solemn Profession on 4th September 2017.


 In the meantime, he had begun theological studies at Sant’Anselmo in Rome, which he took to with enthusiasm. He enjoyed being a mature student. In preparation, he took an Italian course at Padua, staying with the community at Santa Giustina, the monastery of Augustine Baker’s profession. The three years he spent in Rome were some of the happiest in his life. He contributed much to community life at Sant’Anselmo and loved being at the vibrant heart of the Catholic Church. He worked as a translator at the 2016 Abbots’ Congress and began doing translation work for A.I.M. (Alliance for International Monasticism). He completed the three-year Baccalaureate in Theology, while at the same time working on a License in Liturgical Theology, to which he was putting the finishing touches here at Belmont when he died. He was a deeply committed student, writing copious notes, reading every book he could get his hands on and producing essays so good they could have been published. Alistair took to heart those words from the Prophet Daniel we heard today, “The learned will shine as brightly as the vault of heaven, and those who have instructed many in virtue, as bright as stars for all eternity.” He was to continue this hard work in his preparation of homilies, retreat talks and conferences. You will remember that even his short weekday homilies were the fruit of prayer and study, jewels of perfection in content and style, theologically sound and yet always practical, homely and helpful.


 On returning from Rome, Fr Alistair was ordained to the diaconate by Archbishop George, present with us this afternoon, on 4th September 2018 and then to the sacred priesthood on 12th January 2019. It was only the Sunday before he died that he celebrated the first anniversary of his ordination. From the moment he returned to Belmont, he threw himself with vigour into whatever work he was asked to do. A difficult job, which was not to his liking, was that of Procurator. He was also a director of Monksoft, which deals mostly with Hedley Lodge. He was elected to the Abbot’s Council as a community councillor and became a trustee. But he was happiest of all doing pastoral work, celebrating the sacraments, preaching, visiting the sick and assisting the dying and bereaved. He took special care over the celebration of funerals. He began serving as Officiating Catholic Chaplain with the Armed Forces. Then there were talks, conferences and retreats. He tackled all these with that professional spirit he had learned during his 35 year teaching career. You could not but admire his dedication and the genuine love and concern he had for all those with whom he came into contact as a priest.


 And yet, he was a priest for just a year. A parishioner said to me that she found it a great source of consolation that Fr Alistair had been able to celebrate a whole liturgical year as a priest, that he had celebrated all the major feasts and seasons. In fact, he began and ended his earthly ministry with the Baptism of Jesus. St Paul reminded us today that, “When we were baptised in Christ Jesus, we were baptised in his death; in other words, when we were baptised we went into the tomb with him and joined him in death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the Father’s glory, we too might live a new life.” At 7.20 on the morning of 15th January, no longer symbolically but in very deed, Fr Alistair entered into the tomb with Christ, so that in Christ he could be raised from the dead by the Father’s glory. Jesus, who is the Way, the Truth and the Life, has prepared a place for him in his Father’s house. We pray that there he may rest in peace. Amen.



By Abbot Paul 28 Mar, 2024
​I was very blessed yesterday in being able to celebrate the Mass of the Lord’s Supper both at Leominster and at Belmont and today I shall be celebrating the Liturgy of the Passion first at Belmont and then at Leominster. Very tiring, I can assure, what with the driving as well with a lot of flooding to put up with, but what a tremendous privilege too. We have so much to thank God for, especially the love of Jesus who died on a cross to redeem and save us. ​“What I have written, I have written.” It was Pilate’s last word. He had written the notice himself and fixed it to the cross; “Jesus the Nazarene, King of the Jews.” For St Paul, the Cross was the answer to all his questions. Nothing else was needed: he could glory in the Cross of his Lord and Saviour, accepting all manner of suffering and hardship in the joy and confidence of being reconciled to God in Christ Jesus. The Cross is the work of the Father, who so loved the world that he gave his only Son. It is the work of the Son, who did not cling to equality with God but humbled himself, accepting death on a cross. It is the work of the Holy Spirit, in whom the Son offers himself to the Father and who is poured out by the Son, when “bowing his head, he gave up the spirit.” In the Cross, we come to know the love of God, which surpasses all understanding. ​Adam fell at a tree, yet by a tree he was saved. Eve was seduced at a tree, yet through a tree the bride was restored to her spouse. At a tree Satan defeated Adam: on a tree Jesus destroyed the works of the devil. At a tree God cursed man and through a tree that curse gave way to blessing. God exiled Adam from the tree of life: on a tree the New Adam endured exile that we might inherit the earth and know the joys of heaven. The Cross is the tree of knowledge, the tree of judgement and the tree of life. The Cross is the staff of Moses that divides the waters and leads us dry-shod through the sea of life. The Cross is the wood thrown into the bitter waters of Marah to make them sweet and life-giving. The Cross is the standard on which Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness and on which Jesus is now lifted up to draw all people to himself. ​The Cross is planted on Calvary, and Golgotha is the new Eden. It is greater than Sinai, for the new Covenant is sealed in the Blood of Christ. On Calvary God reveals his Glory and speaks his final Word. It is greater than Mount Zion, the mountain of the Great King. It is the true Tabor, for the Transfiguration prefigured this moment when Christ is glorified and in him God is glorified. Calvary is the new Carmel, where the fire of God falls from heaven to consume with its living flame the altar of the new Israel of God, the Church, the Body of Christ made up of living stones. The Cross is the new ladder of Jacob, by which we climb to heaven, while Jesus is the new Bethel, the house of God, in which there are many mansions, where we shall live forever. ​The Cross lies at the heart, at the crossroads of history, “the twisted knot at the centre of reality”, to which all previous history leads and from which all subsequent history flows. The Cross reveals the ultimate meaning of life, where the love of God embraces the whole universe and redeems it in the sacrifice of Christ, our High Priest, who takes into his very being our sufferings and our sins, the tragedy of our fallen nature. The Letter to the Hebrews says, “Although he was Son, he learnt to obey through suffering, but having been made perfect, he became for all who obey him the source of eternal salvation.” The Bible contained in a single verse. Pilate was a weak but stubborn man. “What I have written, I have written.” St Paul was a stubborn man, calling all things rubbish when compared to knowing Christ crucified, for the Jews a stumbling block, for the Gentiles madness, but for those who believe the very wisdom and salvation of God. Let us be stubborn in our faith. We worship you, Christ, and we bless you, by your Cross you have redeemed the world.
By Abbot Paul 28 Mar, 2024
​I apologise if this message is a little late today, but last night, rather like St Benedict, my twin sister St Scholastica prayed that heavy rain should detain me and Toby in Bromyard. In fact, it turned torrential, and the thought of driving back on flooded roads frightened us both. As a result, we passed the night in spiritual conversation with our hosts and returned safely this morning in daylight. “It was before the festival of Passover, and Jesus knew that the hour had come for him to pass from this world to the Father. He had always loved those who were his own in the world, but now he showed how perfect his love was.” St John begins his account of the Passion, which takes up a third of his gospel, with the washing of the disciples’ feet. It’s a living parable, in which Jesus demonstrates the true meaning of his life. Like all parables, it invites us to contemplate the mystery of Christ and what that means for us. The washing of the feet turns our understanding of God upside down, for the Master becomes a slave, showing his disciples that this is the only way in which they can follow him and become what God wants them to be. Jesus says to Peter, “If I do not wash you, you can have nothing in common with me.” The first thing that strikes us is the presence of Judas. The devil has already put it into his mind to betray Jesus, but he’s still there with the others at table, and Jesus washes his feet too. Jesus does not condemn us, but lavishly bestows his gifts on us, even when we plan to betray him. Judas learns nothing from the humility of Jesus. In despair, he will commit suicide, unable to accept that Jesus still loves him. Jesus gets up from the table, removes his outer garment, wraps a towel round his waist, pours water into a basin and begins to wash his disciples’ feet. This is something extraordinary, revolutionary. A Jewish servant might wash his master’s feet and those of his guests, but only a Roman slave would take off his outer garment and set about washing people’s feet in his tunic, a sort of undershirt. It wouldn’t happen in a Jewish household. Moreover, Jesus himself pours the water and that was woman’s work. His actions turn the world on its head. The disciples had never really understood what he was telling them about himself: would tonight be any different? When Jesus comes to Peter, there’s bound to be trouble. He’s a proud, outspoken man, never afraid to confront his Lord. “What? YOU wash MY feet? Lord, are you out of your mind?” St John Chrysostom tells us that the words express Peter’s love, but that it’s a defective love. It lacks the humility illustrated in what Jesus is doing. In Peter’s response we see pride and self-will, the very causes of sin, for which only the Cross of Jesus can atone. Peter still doesn’t understand. Jesus knows that, for the disciples, what he’s doing is bewildering, scandalous even. “At the moment you don’t know what I’m doing, but later you will understand.” Only after the Resurrection will they begin to understand that in the Church, the Body of Christ, there can be no room for those who refuse to be cleansed by his atoning death and washed clean in the blood of the Lamb and that communion with Christ depends on immersing ourselves in the great Sacrament of love, the Eucharistic sacrifice, with all its practical implications of mercy and charity. For now, their understanding fails them. Jesus tells them that their love, like his, must go beyond all limits. “If I, the Lord and Master, have washed your feet, you should wash each other’s feet.” In Christ we are called to be ministers of the love of God in all patience and humility. Only through love can we die with Christ, so as to rise and live with him, and there can be no true love that does not involve sacrifice. It sounds banal, but Jesus came to show us that God loves each one of us and that he wants us to do the same. It’s as simple and as difficult as that!
By Abbot Paul 26 Mar, 2024
At the beginning of a new day we thank God for all his precious gifts, especially for is love and mercy. I don’t think I’ve seen such a glorious display of Spring flowers in Herefordshire for many years, or is it the thought of Easter and the Resurrection of Jesus? Holy or Great Wednesday is also known as Spy Wednesday, a reference perhaps to Judas, who, within the group of the Apostles. became a spy for the high priests, to whom he sold himself for thirty pieces of silver. What a sad end to come to. Today’s Gospel passage is from Matthew, (Mt 26: 14-25), and covers the same ground, more or less, as yesterday’s from John. ​“One of the Twelve, the man called Judas Iscariot, went to the chief priests and said, ‘What are you prepared to give me if I hand him over to you?’ They paid him thirty silver pieces, and from that moment he looked for an opportunity to betray him.” We begin with Judas and note that it was he who approached the chief priests, asking them for money to betray Jesus. I wonder what moved him to do that. Is there always one bad apple in a basket? Tragically, many sell themselves for less. Then come the preparations for the Passover. “Now on the first day of Unleavened Bread the disciples came to Jesus to say, ‘Where do you want us to make the preparations for you to eat the Passover?’ ‘Go to so-and-so in the city’ he replied ‘and say to him, “The Master says: My time is near. It is at your house that I am keeping Passover with my disciples.”’ The disciples did what Jesus told them and prepared the Passover.” Strange that we don’t know the name of the person who lent or rented the place where Jesus and his disciples gathered for the Passover meal. Where were the women who followed them everywhere and looked after their needs, those who stood near the cross and tended to his dead body? A lot is left unsaid. ​“When evening came, he was at table with the twelve disciples. And while they were eating, he said ‘I tell you solemnly, one of you is about to betray me.’ They were greatly distressed and started asking him in turn, ‘Not I, Lord, surely?’ He answered, ‘Someone who has dipped his hand into the dish with me, will betray me. The Son of Man is going to his fate, as the scriptures say he will, but alas for that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed! Better for that man if he had never been born!’ Judas, who was to betray him; asked in his turn, ‘Not I, Rabbi, surely?’ ‘They are your own words’ answered Jesus.” This account is similar to John’s, which we read yesterday, but here each in turn asks, “Is it I, Lord?” When it comes to Judas, he says, “Not I, Lord, surely?” implying that it cannot be him, but Jesus knows full well who it is. “They are your own words,” he replies. This makes for uncomfortable reading, for we are only too conscious of our own failures and shortcomings, if not outright betrayal, in our fidelity to Christ. What about the Judas in me? Can I find the honesty and the humility to recognise what needs profound forgiveness and a radical conversion in my life? Lord, have mercy on me and show me the way of life. Teach me to love and forgive as you do. Amen.
By Abbot Paul 25 Mar, 2024
​Last night I had the joy of taking part in an ecumenical celebration of the Stations of the Cross at St Joseph’s Church, Bromyard, where local Catholics were joined by their Anglican and Methodist brethren. It’s interesting to note that the Via Crucis has become a very popular devotion among Christians of all denominations. As we follow Jesus through his Passion, Death and Resurrection this Holy Week and Easter, most surely we will grow closer to him and become more like him, our loving Lord and Saviour, who gave his life for our salvation and that all people, without exception, might come to know him, who is the image of the living God. ​The Passion and Resurrection narrative in John takes up a third of his Gospel. Today, (Jn 13: 21-33; 36-38), we hear some of the discussion between Jesus and his disciples, two predictions or prophecies: that Judas would betray him and Peter deny him, two similar forms of infidelity to his friendship and love. “While at supper with his disciples, Jesus was troubled in spirit and declared, ‘I tell you most solemnly, one of you will betray me.’ The disciples looked at one another, wondering which he meant.” They are conscious of the fact that anyone of them could possibly be the one who is to betray Jesus. We, too, know that we are capable of betraying Jesus. The disciples want to know who it is. “The disciple Jesus loved was reclining next to Jesus; Simon Peter signed to him and said, ‘Ask who it is he means,’ so leaning back on Jesus’ breast he said, ‘Who is it, Lord?’ ‘It is the one’ replied Jesus ‘to whom I give the piece of bread that I shall dip in the dish.’ He dipped the piece of bread and gave it to Judas son of Simon Iscariot. At that instant, after Judas had taken the bread, Satan entered him. Jesus then said, ‘What you are going to do, do quickly.’” Jesus knows what Judas has in mind to do, which he why he offers him the piece of bread that has been dipped into the dish. Judas understands at that moment that Jesus is aware of his intentions and leaves. The other disciples fail to see what is going on and remain confused. “None of the others at table understood the reason he said this. Since Judas had charge of the common fund, some of them thought Jesus was telling him, ‘Buy what we need for the festival’, or telling him to give something to the poor. As soon as Judas had taken the piece of bread he went out. Night had fallen.” That short sentence, “Night had fallen,” indicates that the powers of evil are at work and appear to have the upper hand. The light of the world is about to be snuffed out. ​Yet, once Judas has gone, Jesus feels he can say: “Now has the Son of Man been glorified, and in him God has been glorified. If God has been glorified in him, God will in turn glorify him in himself, and will glorify him very soon. My little children, I shall not be with you much longer. You will look for me, And, as I told the Jews, where I am going, you cannot come.” In John, Jesus’ passion and death are his glorification for they lead to his glorious resurrection from the dead. Peter, however, is mystified. “Simon Peter said, ‘Lord, where are you going?’ Jesus replied, ‘Where I am going you cannot follow me now; you will follow me later.’ Peter said to him, ‘Why can’t I follow you now? I will lay down my life for you.’ ‘Lay down your life for me?’ answered Jesus. ‘I tell you most solemnly, before the cock crows you will have disowned me three times.’” Poor Peter, he wants to follow Jesus and lay down his life for him, but Jesus warns him that before the cock crows he will have disowned his Lord three times. How tragic this story would be, were it not for the fact that we know what lies ahead. Perhaps knowing that makes it even more tragic.
By Abbot Paul 24 Mar, 2024
​Yesterday, being Palm Sunday, was a busy yet thoroughly enjoyable and spiritually enriching and uplifting day, even if a little tiring, what with all the driving in addition to three celebrations of Mass with blessing of palms and reading of the Passion narrative. One way of relaxing for me is to drive up onto the Bromyard Downs, then take a short, brisk walk, admiring the breathtaking views of the town and surrounding countryside and breathing in pure, invigorating, God-given oxygen. What bliss, a taste of heaven! ​We read in today’s Gospel passage from John, (Jn 12: 1-11), that, “Six days before the Passover, Jesus went to Bethany, where Lazarus was, whom he had raised from the dead. They gave a dinner for him there; Martha waited on them and Lazarus was among those at table. Mary brought in a pound of very costly ointment, pure nard, and with it anointed the feet of Jesus, wiping them with her hair; the house was full of the scent of the ointment.” Martha, Mary and Lazarus were close friends of Jesus and he loved them dearly, as they loved him. As Bethany was close to Jerusalem, where else would he go after his triumphal entry into Jerusalem? He needed to get away from the crowds, and yet wherever he went, the crowds followed. This was to be a Last Supper with his friends, but the presence of Lazarus at table was proof of the power of life over death and the ability of Jesus to bring life out of death. Mary’s act of anointing the feet of Jesus with pure nard is sheer extravagance: it would have taken a man’s wages for a whole year to buy that amount of the perfumed oil. This was the manifestation of a genuine love and she acted on behalf of the family. ​However, Judas intervenes: “Then Judas Iscariot – one of his disciples, the man who was to betray him – said, ‘Why wasn’t this ointment sold for three hundred denarii, and the money given to the poor?’ He said this, not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief; he was in charge of the common fund and used to help himself to the contributions. So Jesus said, ‘Leave her alone; she had to keep this scent for the day of my burial. You have the poor with you always, you will not always have me.’” His words are cynical as they are untrue. He has no interest in the poor. His only interest is to stuff his own pockets full of the money Jesus and his disciples have been given. John tells us that he was a thief and Jesus isn’t fooled. There are always poor people who need help and Judas has had plenty of opportunity to help them, but it’s only his envy at Mary’s generosity that has suddenly brought them to mind. Jesus links the anointing to his death and burial. Just as the house is now filled with the perfume, so the whole of God’s creation, and the Church in particular, will be filled with the perfume of forgiveness and salvation that will be the fruit of his death and resurrection. ​The raising of Lazarus from the tomb increased Jesus’ fame among the people, while fuelling the hatred the religious leaders in Jerusalem had for him. John tells us, “Meanwhile a large number of Jews heard that he was there and came not only on account of Jesus but also to see Lazarus whom he had raised from the dead. Then the chief priests decided to kill Lazarus as well, since it was on his account that many of the Jews were leaving them and believing in Jesus.” People were keen to see Jesus and curious, I should imagine, to see Lazarus. Wouldn’t you be? But the chief priests were intent on quelling this outbreak of religious fervour that verged, for them, on the seditious. They were afraid of upsetting the political status quo with the Romans. The only solution would be to do away with Lazarus as well as with Jesus. Plans were afoot to do this. ​Lord Jesus, grant us grace not to be afraid to follow you faithfully throughout our lives, to give you lovingly the very best of ourselves in the service of the poor and those in any need. Lord, we are yours: do with us as you see best. Amen.
By Abbot Paul 23 Mar, 2024
​I apologise for not publishing a message yesterday, my first failure in over four years! The truth is that I was dealing with a number of issues before going out to visit a friend that I clean forgot to send off the message I had already prepared. It was just one of those days. However, I did have a good evening with my friend and and excellent night’s sleep, which is unusual for me. Today is Palm Sunday, the first day of Holy Week. ​‘Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the kingdom of our father David that is coming! Hosanna in the highest!’ We are struck on Palm Sunday by the stark contrast between the joyful exuberance of the blessing of palms and the bleak reality of the Mass that follows, centred on the Passion. That first Holy Week, the disciples were unprepared for what was to follow on from the triumphal entry into Jerusalem. They hadn’t really understood the words of Jesus that he would suffer and die so as to enter fully into his glory. The same crowds, who welcomed him into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, would soon be shouting, “Crucify him! Crucify him!” Some would mock him saying, “He saved others, he cannot save himself,” little realising the truth concealed in their words, for on the cross Jesus didn’t need to save himself but he did save everyone else. ​Mark’s Gospel, short and succinct, contains a highly developed theology of the cross. More than Matthew, Luke or John, Mark emphasizes the abandonment of Jesus and how he faced his arrest, trial, condemnation, crucifixion and death alone. At Gethsemane, his disciples can’t fathom his fear and distress or understand the meaning of his words, “My soul is sorrowful to the point of death.” They fall asleep as he prays not to be put to the test, for “the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.” He goes on to die in total isolation and, after his death, it’s a centurion, a gentile, not one of the disciples, who acknowledges that, “Truly, this man was a son of God.” Only the women are there, but at a distance, frightened and confused. The glory of Jesus was to suffer and die for our salvation. Paul tells the Philippians that from the moment of his death on the cross, “all beings in the heavens, on earth and in the underworld, should bend the knee at the name of Jesus and every tongue proclaim that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” Christ’s Death and Resurrection are a great comfort to all who see in Jesus the image of the unseen God. In Christ’s Passion we derive great consolation as we often find our own cross hard to bear. It wasn’t easy for Jesus: it’s clear from Mark’s Passion narrative that he experienced human vulnerability, distress, fear, agitation and grief. He begged the Father that this hour might pass him by and the cup of suffering be taken from him. He was indeed, “a man like us in all things but sin.” ​Contemplating Our Lord’s Passion this week, let us thank him for his sacrifice of love that sets us free to love God and our neighbour. We pray that we too may give our lives as sacrifice, not thinking of ourselves and our own needs, but putting others first. Let us thank him for showing us the meaning of the mystery of life, that, by patiently taking up our own cross every day and following him, we may come to share in the glory of his Resurrection as we now share in his suffering and death. Amen.
By Abbot Paul 22 Mar, 2024
Abbot Paul's message will be back tomorrow. 😄
By Abbot Paul 21 Mar, 2024
When I was young, I often spent Holy Week and Easter with my grandmother in Italy. That was when school holidays coincided with Holy Week and Easter Week. I remember that today, the Friday before Palm Sunday, was the traditional day for celebrating Our Lady of Sorrows, the Addolorata. I loved following the procession through the streets of Perugia late into the night. This was when Holy Week really began, with the first great procession. Then, when Fr Luke, Fr David and I went out to Peru in 1981, we discovered that they had exactly the same traditions there for La Dolorosa and that tonight’s Mass and procession, followed by the whole town and lasting all night long, marked the beginning of ten days of endless processions and celebrations. Holy Week came to life. How I loved it all. ​In today’s Gospel passage from John, (Jn 10: 31-42), the crowds want to stone Jesus for blasphemy. “The Jews fetched stones to stone him, so Jesus said to them, ‘I have done many good works for you to see, works from my Father; for which of these are you stoning me?’ The Jews answered him, ‘We are not stoning you for doing a good work but for blasphemy: you are only a man and you claim to be God.’” This is the charge, that he is only a man, yet claims to be God. Jesus reminds them of the words of the psalmist and tells them that scripture cannot be rejected. He goes on to say, ​​“You say to someone the Father has consecrated and sent into the world, ‘You are blaspheming,’ because he says, ‘I am the son of God.’ If I am not doing my Father’s work, there is no need to believe me; but if I am doing it, then even if you refuse to believe in me, at least believe in the work I do; then you will know for sure that the Father is in me and I am in the Father.’” Jesus’ proof that he is the son of God, sent into this world, are the works he does, which are the works of God his Father. Even if you don’t want to believe in me, believe at least in the works I do and which you see with your own eyes, he tells them. From my works alone you can see that, “the Father is in me and I am in the Father.” Whereas the religious leaders want to arrest him and have him put to death for blasphemy, the people see things differently. “He went back again to the far side of the Jordan to stay in the district where John had once been baptising. Many people who came to him there said, ‘John gave no signs, but all he said about this man was true’; and many of them believed in him.” They see in Jesus the words of John the Baptist fulfilled. They recognise him to be the Messiah, the Son of God. ​Lord, may the celebration of Holy Week strengthen our faith and fill us with grace to do our Father’s will and so continue the works you began while on earth. Amen.
By Abbot Paul 20 Mar, 2024
​On this day, in the year 560, St Benedict passed to his eternal reward in his monastery at Monte Cassino, some 150km south of Rome and 120km south of Subiaco, where his first monastery was situated. By the time he died at the age of 80, he had written his Rule for Monks and founded several monasteries. His twin sister, St Scholastica, died before him, having had a marked influence on her brother. It’s interesting to detect the mind of a woman in several chapters of the Rule. For us Benedictines and Cistercians, today is the main feast of St Benedict and the original one, as saints are always remembered on the day that they left this life and entered Paradise. Today is also, traditionally, the first day of Spring in the northern hemisphere and in many parts of Europe there are ancient traditions connected with this day and the feast of St Benedict. Today let us pray for monastic communities throughout the world that live according to the Rule of St Benedict and let us pray for all those who are spiritually connected with our monasteries: oblates, parishioners, students, relatives, benefactors, friends, tourists and casual visitors. No one comes to a monastery in vain. Guests are welcomed as Christ. In some manuscripts of the Holy Rule there is a short sentence, probably not going back to St Benedict himself, which reads, “It is called a rule because it regulates the lives of those who obey it.” As Benedictine monks we try each day to live as closely to the Rule as possible because we know that, by obeying it, it will keep us on the way of the Gospel that alone leads us to God. Our oblates and friends do the same, each in their own way. By obeying the Rule and putting nothing before Christ, we also come to love our neighbour. Who is our neighbour but all those whom God puts on our path: our brethren and our families, guests and those in need, the sick in mind and body, the young and the old, our enemies too. In learning to see Christ in others, we discover him in ourselves. Praying for others, we also pray for ourselves. This is the way of St Benedict, a way of simplicity and austerity, a way of joy and thanksgiving, a way of love and tenderness, a way of caring for creation and all that God created, a way of obedience to God’s will. One of the monastic values and traditions St Benedict was most keen on was stability. In fact, it is one of the three Benedictine vows. It is a word derived from the Latin verb stare, meaning to stand, to stand still, to stand firm, to remain and to rest. The experts tell us that stability refers essentially to a monk’s standing in choir, in his choir stall, surrounded by his brethren. But it is also a vow that refers not only to staying put in one place. Rather more importantly, it also refers to what we do in this one place, i.e. pray. We pray together in choir, singing God’s praises and listening to his word. But in order to do that well, we have to pray alone and in silence, in our cells or wherever we happen to be. It also means assiduously reading the Bible, studying the Scriptures, ruminating on the Word of God, practising lectio divina, which should always lead to mental prayer or the prayer of silence. Stability is also about growing in love for the monastic community, for the brethren that God has chosen for us, loving our brothers with patience and humility, generosity and joy, seeing Christ in them. This is equally true of those who are married and live a family life. In fact, at the very top of the ladder of humility, beyond the last rung, we find that perfect love which casts out all fear, the goal of the Christian life. So today let us pray for the gift of stability, especially if we are monks, but also if we are married or single, oblates, parishioners or friends of Belmont. We pray for that real stability which, for all of us, means being anchored in the very heart of God. Through the intercession of St Benedict, may we find in obedience, that peace which surpasses all understanding and the perfect love that casts out fear. By sharing in the sufferings of Christ through patience, may we all deserve to share in his kingdom. Amen
By Abbot Paul 19 Mar, 2024
​There are days when it’s easy to write this message, plain sailing in fact, and there are days when I have difficulty knowing just where to begin and what to say. Usually, the Gospel of the day inspires a response, but there are times when I wonder how on earth to explain in a few, simple words what Jesus is saying, something that might be helpful for us today, not that the word of God is ever irrelevant, how could it be? But Jesus spoke in one particular context and the Gospels were written in another particular context, and that is what makes it difficult at times, but not just difficult, above all fascinating and rewarding. Today’s Gospel passage from John, (Jn 8: 31-42) is no exception. ​Jesus is speaking with Jewish religious leaders in Jerusalem. Some have come to believe in him, but then he says, “If you make my word your home you will indeed be my disciples, you will learn the truth and the truth will make you free.” These are not easy words for them to accept. In what way are they not free, they wonder, since they are descended from Abraham. How can the truth make them free, if they are not slaves? In reply, Jesus says that, “everyone who commits sin is a slave.” He then adds, “If the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.” He knows that by birth they are “sons of Abraham” and that Abraham is their father, but what are they in reality? Abraham was obedient to God and walked with God, but they do not, because they will not listen to Jesus. He says clearly, “If you were Abraham’s children, you would do as Abraham did. As it is, you want to kill me when I tell you the truth, as I have learnt it from God; that is not what Abraham did. What you are doing is what your father does.” Jesus keeps repeating the fact that they want to kill him. In John, the Passion narrative seems to begin from very early in the Gospel, and it’s only in John that we find these long discussions, really interrupted discourses on the part of Jesus. His hearers are outraged and react by saying, “’We were not born of prostitution,’ and ‘we have one father: God.’” To this Jesus retorts, “If God were your father, you would love me, since I have come here from God; yes, I have come from him; not that I came because I chose, no, I was sent, and by him.” Not to recognise and accept Jesus as Son of God and love him, means not knowing God and not loving and obeying him. To love Jesus is to love God, for Jesus is God. What we find in John’s Gospel is known as high Christology. An easy way of remembering this is to think of Jesus’ words to Philip, “Anyone who has seen Me has seen the Father." (Jn 14: 9) ​So, the question for us today is yet again, how do we see Jesus, who is he for us? A theologian once described him as being “the human face of God.” Do you find that description or definition helpful? Do you see the Father in Jesus? Personally, I just take what Jesus says as truth. For me, he is the Way and the Truth and the Life. Not only that, when I read or hear the Gospel read, I know it is Jesus speaking to my heart and I thrill at the sound of his voice. Strange, in the realm of faith, I’m still that small boy who first heard Jesus speak to me when my own father read me bedtime stories from the Children’s Bible and that was a long time ago.
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