Message of Abbot Paul - Saturday 18th March 2023
Abbot Paul • March 17, 2023
I returned from Peru early on Friday morning. I’m most grateful to the kind parishioner who met me at Birmingham Airport and brought me back to Belmont. It was a surprise to be woken up by the loud cries of the jackdaw colony, a much larger choir of singers than that of the monks. In Peru we have a colony of “mirlos” related to the British blackbird. They belong to the thrush family. These birds accompany the monks as they sing the daylight offices and Mass. They also knock at the stained-glass windows to attract attention. However, they are much, much louder, sing amazingly well and have perfect pitch. I’ve tried to do an ordinary day’s work on my first day back, but I’m beginning to fall asleep as I write these few words. It was good to collect Toby and bring him home to Belmont. The first thing he wanted to do was pay a visit to the cemetery and tuck into the long grass among the graves, primroses and daffodils. He knows what he wants.
​Out Gospel passage this Saturday comes from Luke, (Lk 18: 9-14), the reaction of Jesus to those, ”who prided themselves on being virtuous and despised everyone else.” Jesus does so by means of a parable, one of his most famous and here it is:
“Two men went up to the Temple to pray, one a Pharisee, the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood there and said this prayer to himself, ’I thank you, God, that I am not grasping, unjust, adulterous like the rest of mankind, and particularly that I am not like this tax collector here. I fast twice a week; I pay tithes on all I get.’ The tax collector stood some distance away, not daring even to raise his eyes to heaven; but he beat his breast and said, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner.’ This man, I tell you, went home again at rights with God; the other did not. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the man who humbles himself will be exalted.”
​Poor Pharisee, he was a good man, but sadly over-conscious of his goodness and his obeying God’s commandments to the letter. There are many Christians like that, proud of their obedience to the commandments of God and of the Church. The problem with pride is that it tends to despise others, who on the surface aren’t so good. But God looks not so much on our many good works as on our humility and spirit of repentance. All the Pharisee could say to God was, “Look how good I am.” The tax-collector, on the other hand, was conscious of being a sinner and simply knelt before God and said, “God, be merciful to me a sinner.” It’s hardly surprising, is it, that he went home forgiven and justified, while all the Pharisee could do was wallow in his pride.
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.
