Epiphany Homily

Abbot Paul Stonham • January 5, 2020

The birth of any child is an Epiphany, a manifestation of the loving kindness of God, who gives us the gift of new life made in his image and likeness. Many of you here this morning will know what Mary and Joseph felt when they saw visitors arrive to see the baby. They were probably surprised when a group of shepherds came in the middle of the night. Their message, given to them by the angels, of the birth of a saviour caused Mary to ponder and treasure in her heart everything she knew about her child and the fact that she had remained a virgin after his birth. Then there was his name, Jesus, the Holy Name revealed to Mary by the angel Gabriel at the Annunciation and to Joseph by an angel in a dream. 

But now, twelve days later, here come wise men from the east bringing gifts. They tell how they have followed a star and have come to do homage to the infant King of the Jews, a title we will meet again at his crucifixion. Expecting to find him in a palace in Jerusalem rather than in a stable at Bethlehem, they visit King Herod, asking to see the child. Herod is taken aback and tries to trick the wise men so as to discover who and where this child is. He then conspires to kill all male children born in the last two years. The Magi continue to follow the star until it comes to rest over the place where the child lay. “The sight of the star, “ writes St Matthew, “filled them with delight, and going into the house they saw the child with his mother Mary, and falling to their knees they did him homage.” Then they open their treasures and offer him their prophetic gifts, gold for a king, incense for a god and myrrh for a dead man, The three gifts must have given Mary a great deal more to ponder over and treasure, but soon the flight into Egypt, to protect the life of her child, and living as a refugee will give her more to think about, preparing her for his passion and death thirty years hence. 

But what happened to the wise men? St Matthew simply says, “They were warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, and returned to their own country by a different way.” God spoke to them in a dream just as he spoke with Joseph. While Joseph takes Mary and Jesus as migrants to Egypt, the wise men return home “by a different way.” Now it could simply mean that, to avoid seeing Herod again, they took another route, but the word “way” always has a more significant meaning in the New Testament. One day Jesus will say, “I am the Way,” and the first Christians became known as “followers of the Way.” The way the wise men took was Christ himself. They had recognised the babe in the manger to be God Incarnate and had knelt down in worship. What had been revealed to them in this great manifestation of God’s love and mercy would guide their lives from then onwards, as it does our lives today.

The Epiphany is the greatest of feasts: Advent and Christmas prepared us for today. In the early Church it ranked with Easter and Pentecost, which is why we solemnly read today the proclamation of Easter. Although we now emphasise the coming of the Wise Men and Christ’s manifestation to the Gentiles, the Epiphany celebrates the threefold revelation of Christ to the world: his Birth at Bethlehem, his Baptism in the Jordan and the first Miracle at Cana in Galilee. Known as Easter in Winter, it was traditionally set apart for the rites of Christian Initiation, so it’s an appropriate day for two young men in the congregation, Iestyn and Ostyn Gillick, to make their First Communion. They have been prepared for the Sacrament by their father, Gabriel. This, of course, it what should happen in every family. It is the duty of parents to instruct their children in the faith. So today we pray for Iestyn and Ostyn. They haven’t brought gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh, but something more precious, they have brought their hearts and their love for Jesus.


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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.
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