Message of Abbot Paul - Palm Sunday - 24th March 2024
Abbot Paul • March 23, 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.
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.
