Message of Abbot Paul - Friday - 16th February 2024
Abbot Paul • February 15, 2024
​Suddenly, in spite of the rain, it feels like Spring. We’re past St Valentine’s Day, so it’s hardly surprising and the cold weather, we hope, is behind us. Our cemetery is covered with a carpet of snowdrops, brighter and yet more delicate than ever. Then there are primroses, like countless stars in a green sky, deep purple and yellow crocuses and dashing sunlike daffodils. I often think of that children’s hymn we sang at school, “All things bright and beautiful, all creatures great and small, all things wise and wonderful, the Lord God made them all.” Then the words of Jesus come to mind, “Unless you become as little children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.” There’s something special about Spiring that makes us all like children again, lost in wonder at the world of nature all around us.
​Yesterday, I also spent the morning in Hereford County Hospital. We hear a lot of criticism of the NHS, but all I can say is that my personal experience in Hereford for over 50 years has been second to none, whether it’s my local surgery at Much Birch or the hospital itself. I had been told that I would have a chip placed in my chest to monitor my blood pressure and heartbeat. It turned out to be an Implantable Loop Recorder (ILR) the length of my little finger, with what seems to be a lot of equipment to go with it. Oh dear, now what do I do? I hope I understood the instructions. There’s no getting rid of it: it will go with me to the grave. Well, you must look on the bright side of things. Fr Andrew told me I should warn our undertaker! The staff were fantastic, the experience enjoyable, other patients good to chat with and a real blessing knowing that parishioners and friends were praying for me and that someone in particular was watching over me and holding my hand.
​Today’s Gospel passage is taken from Matthew, (Mt 9: 14-15). One of the real difficulties we have with the Gospel readings in Lent is that they are usually verses plucked out of their context, so that they’re not always easy to understand. This happened yesterday and it’s also the case today. It’s useful to know what led up to these words of Jesus and what followed on from them. This is the text: “John’s disciples came to Jesus and said, ‘Why is it that we and the Pharisees fast, but your disciples do not?’ Jesus replied, ‘Surely the bridegroom’s attendants would never think of mourning as long as the bridegroom is still with them? But the time will come for the bridegroom to be taken away from them, and then they will fast.’” This saying of Jesus is part of his debate with the scribes and Pharisees, following on from the healing of a paralytic and the call of Matthew. ‘Why does Jesus mix with tax collectors and sinners and eat with them?’ They ask. ‘Why does he say that people’s sins are forgiven? Why do his disciples not fast?’ Their questions are many. Here the disciples of John the Baptist are also involved. ‘Why do they fast, while Jesus’ disciples do not?’ Jesus replies, referring to himself as the bridegroom and to his disciples as the bridegroom’s attendants. As long as Jesus is with them, they do not need to fast for where Jesus is, there is God’s presence and the kingdom of heaven. When Jesus is taken from them, then they will fast, but for the time being, life is a feast, a heavenly banquet. Jesus refers to his being taken from them, a prophecy of his Passion and Death.
​We fast during Lent, looking ahead to the celebration of Holy Week, when we remember the events of our redemption, the Passion, Death and Resurrection. While that is true, we fast at this and other times not because Jesus has been taken from us, but because we have strayed away from him, thereby removing him from our lives. Now that’s why we really need to repent and turn back to him. Fasting really serves no other purpose and, as the Prophet Isaiah reminds us in Chapter 58 of his book, the true fast that God wants us to keep is a fast from all that is unjust in our behaviour towards others, our lack of charity and generosity, our lack of sincerity and honesty, and so on. Do read Isaiah 58. Lord, this Lent save us from ourselves and bring us back to you, that we might love others as you love us. Amen.
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.
