Message of Abbot Paul - Ascension Thursday 18th May 2023
Abbot Paul • May 17, 2023
Throughout Eastertide we have celebrated the Resurrection of Jesus, reading wonderful Gospel narratives, singing glorious Easter hymns and meditating on the central mysteries of our faith. So many images of our Risen Lord come to mind when we think of Easter: the empty Tomb, the women and the angels, Mary Magdalene, who mistakes Jesus for the gardener, Cleopas and his companion, who fail to recognise him on the road until he enters into their home and they recognise him in the breaking of bread, the disciples in the upper room and the meeting with Thomas a week later (Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe) and the encounter with his disciples on the shore of Lake Galilee (Do you love me more than these?) Then, reading the rest of the Gospel in the light of the Resurrection and beginning to see what it all means. Eastertide is a spiritual whirlwind! The final event is recounted in today’s Gospel. “’Go out to the whole world; proclaim the Good News to all creation.’ So the Lord Jesus was taken up into heaven: there at the right hand of God he took his place, while they, going out, preached everywhere, the Lord working with them and confirming the word by the signs that accompanied it.”
Today we celebrate his Ascension, but what is it that Jesus takes up into heaven? His body, born of Mary, a body like ours, that was scourged and crowned with thorns, crucified, died and buried, that lay three days in the sepulchre. A body that rose victoriously on the third day and appeared to the disciples, showing them his hands and side, a body whose wounds were still open when he invited Thomas to put his finger into the holes in his hands and his hand into the wound in his side. The body that Jesus takes up into heaven is risen, glorified and transformed into a new reality, yet the wounds of his Passion and Death, by which he redeemed us, reconciling us with the Father, are still open and will remain so until the last soul is saved, such is the depth of his love and mercy. They show the humility of the risen Christ.
Pope Francis often has unusual insights into Scripture. On one Ascension Day he said, “When Jesus returns to the Father, he shows him his wounds and says to him, ‘Look, Father, this is the price of the forgiveness that you give.’ When the Father looks at his Son’s wounds, he always forgives us, not because we are good but because Jesus paid the price for us. Looking at Jesus’ wounds, the Father becomes more merciful. This is the great work of Jesus in heaven today: showing the Father the price of forgiveness, his wounds. How wonderful this is, because it moves us not to have fear of asking forgiveness. The Father always forgives because he looks at the wounds of Jesus, looks at our sin and forgives it.”
Today’s Gospel also reminds us that, just as Jesus sent out his disciples to preach the Good News and to share with the whole of creation the joy of God’s loving mercy, so he is sending us out as missionaries today. That’s the real meaning of, “Ite, missa est.” There is nothing optional about the command, “Go out to the whole world: proclaim the good news.” We cannot call ourselves Christian if we keep the Good News to ourselves. If we truly live in the presence of the Lord and the power of his Spirit, then we must be filled with missionary zeal. We thank him for calling each one of us to be a missionary, even from the heart of the family home or monastic enclosure. It’s a big challenge. Are we prepared take it up?
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.
