Message of Abbot Paul - Sunday 21st August
Abbot Paul • August 21, 2022
Message from Fr Paul for Sunday, 21st August 2022
There’s nothing worse than being ignored. It sometimes happens at a counter, when the assistant who should be serving you just keeps talking to another member of staff. Almost as bad is trying to get through to someone on the phone and being told that all the lines are busy and that you have been put into a queue. To add insult to injury, you are probably paying for the call. In the Gospels there are several parables and stories where the entrance has been locked and some unfortunate people are clamouring to get in and being told, “Go away. I don’t know who you are.” To be told by God, who knows us through and through, that he no longer knows us, is by far the bleakest place in which to be. We find one such case in today’s Gospel from Luke, (Lk 13: 22-30). But what is this all about?
We remember that in John’s Gospel, Jesus tells his disciples that he is the door of the sheepfold. He also says that he is the doorkeeper, and that he is the way, the truth and the life. I have always found that John is the key to understanding the Synoptics. So when we read the first paragraph of today’s Gospel passage, we immediately begin to get the message. Here is the text. “Through towns and villages Jesus went teaching, making his way to Jerusalem. Someone said to him, ‘Sir, will there be only a few saved?’ He said to them, ‘Try your best to enter by the narrow door, because, I tell you, many will try to enter and will not succeed.” Jesus himself is the narrow door through which we enter the kingdom of heaven. To enter that door, we have to accept Jesus as Lord and Saviour and surrender our lives to him through faith and baptism, and obedience to his commandments. It’s really as simple as that. We remember the parable of the Ten Virgins or Bridesmaids. The five foolish ones, who didn’t take oil along for their lamps, were unprepared, they hadn’t taken their relationship with Jesus seriously, but Jesus demands our all, albeit lovingly. No matter how merciful God is, he still asks us to do our part. Salvation, the kingdom of heaven, is a gift, the Father’s gift to us in Jesus through his Spirit, but it doesn’t come cheaply. The great Lutheran theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who died a martyr in 1945 for his opposition to the Nazi government, wrote of the phenomenon of half-hearted Christians wanting ‘cheap grace’.
So Jesus warns us today against the temptation to go for ‘cheap grace’ without making our own contribution of self-giving in response to the self-emptying sacrifice of Christ. God loved us first, but his love demands the response of love freely given in joy and thanksgiving. In the specific context of this Gospel passage, Jesus is speaking of his countrymen and co-religionists who will not accept him as Messiah and refuse to walk the path of discipleship. Read in our own context, he would be referring to all those who do not put the reign of God first in their lives. In Matthew we read, “Seek first the kingdom of God and his justice (righteousness), and all these things will be added to you.” (Mt 6: 33). We must invite God to take possession of our lives, hand back to him the gift of life he has given us. This is why Jesus concludes by saying, “There are those now last who will be first, and those now first who will be last.” Are you living the enigma of being a Christian? May God be merciful to both first and last.
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.
