Message of Abbot Paul - Holy Monday - 25th March 2024
Abbot Paul • March 24, 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.

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.