Message of Abbot Paul - Saturday 8th July 2023
Abbot Paul • July 8, 2023
Today’s Gospel passage from Matthew, (Mt 9: 14-17), sees the disciples of John the Baptist come to Jesus to ask him why it is that they and the Pharisees fast, yet the disciples of Jesus do not. Does this refer to special or extra fasts observed by John and the Pharisees but not by Jesus and his disciples or to the ordinary fasting laws undertaken by all practising Jews in Jesus’ day? Obviously, they were preoccupied by this discrepancy, or they wouldn’t have come to ask him, “Why is it that we and the Pharisees fast, but your disciples do not?” We mustn’t forget that during his lifetime and for a long time afterwards, one of the major debating points concerned the identity of the Messiah, the Christ: was it John or was it Jesus?
​In reply, Jesus tells them, “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. No one puts a piece of unshrunken cloth on to an old cloak, because the patch pulls away from the cloak and the tear gets worse. Nor do people put new wine into old wineskins; if they do, the skins burst, the wine runs out, and the skins are lost. No; they put new wine into fresh skins and both are preserved.” I wonder what they made of this? It wasn’t the only time John’s disciples came to see Jesus and ask him questions. In John’s Gospel, the author shows us that the first disciples of Jesus had originally been disciples of John. In answer to their question on fasting, Jesus provides three illustrations, the first being a wedding, a joyful occasion, which is the antithesis to fasting, which was usually a sign of mourning or repentance for sin. Jesus is the bridegroom and his disciples his attendants or best men and ushers, as we say in English today. The second illustration is that of clothes, that over time and much washing tend to shrink. That’s true even today of synthetic materials. It wouldn’t be wise to patch an old piece of clothing with a new piece of cloth: the consequences are obvious. The third illustration concerns wineskins, not something common in the lives of most of us today, but easily understood by his hearers.
​Jesus uses these last two illustrations to show that we shouldn’t try to mesh together the new and the old. What is he getting at here? Why does this matter to the disciples of John, why does it matter to Jesus’ disciples, and why does it matter to us? Well, Jesus is trying to show us that there is a new way for believers in God. John and his disciples, as well as the Pharisees, are operating by the old way of things. They’re looking to the sacrifices, the rituals, the laws, the Mosaic covenant, and the eventual coming of the Messiah. Jesus didn’t come to patch up the old way of religion. Jesus didn’t come to mix the new way into the old way of doing things. Jesus has come with something totally new. Jesus is saying, “The new way has come! I am the new way! I am the bridegroom! I am the Messiah, the Christ! I am God!”

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.