Message of Abbot Paul - Sunday 26th November 2023
Abbot Paul • November 25, 2023
Today we keep the feast of Christ the King, not an ancient feast but one instituted by Pope Pius XI in 1925, at a time when the royal families of Europe were losing their importance or disappearing altogether. It immediately became very popular in the Catholic Church, but like all modern feasts it celebrates an idea, a concept, rather than a historical event in the life of Our Lord or Our Lady or in the history of the Church. The Pope quite rightly wished to emphasise the fact that for Christians, Jesus Christ, who is the Resurrection and the Life, the Lord of Creation and Messiah, the Anointed One of the Father, who saved mankind from sin and death and opened for us the gate of God’s eternal kingdom, is indeed our only king, whose kingdom is justice, peace and love. Originally kept on the last Sunday of October, when the Calendar was revised under Pope St Paul VI in 1969, the feast was transferred to the last Sunday in the Liturgical Year as perhaps more appropriate at a time when we contemplate the end of the age and the Second Coming of Jesus as Lord of Creation and Judge of mankind.
Today’s Gospel from Matthew (Mt 25: 31-46) continues the apocalyptic theme of the Last Judgement from last Sunday, an essential aspect of the Second Coming of Jesus that we celebrate in Advent. The teaching of Jesus is quite straightforward, although it has certain elements that come from the parables, such as a shepherd separating his sheep from his goats and the reference to Jesus as a King who judges and rewards his servants. It begins like this: “Jesus said to his disciples: ‘When the Son of Man comes in his glory, escorted by all the angels, then he will take his seat on his throne of glory. All the nations will be assembled before him and he will separate men one from another as the shepherd separates sheep from goats. He will place the sheep on his right hand and the goats on his left.” Goats are such adorable creatures, although they can eat everything in sight, that I always feel that their choice as symbols for the ‘bad guys’ in Scripture is a bit unfair. Our lives should be a perpetual vigil in preparation for the return of Jesus at the end of time. We should live each day as if it were our last, but we shouldn’t fear judgement, our final examination for entering the university of eternal life. We already know the questions: all we need do is answer them in our daily lives. They’re not even difficult questions, but will we be among those to hear the words of the King? “Come, you whom my Father has blessed, take for your heritage the kingdom prepared for you since the foundation of the world.” Will we be among the virtuous who go to eternal life?
​Here’s the examination paper. “’I was hungry and you gave me food; I was thirsty and you gave me drink; I was a stranger and you made me welcome; naked and you clothed me, sick and you visited me, in prison and you came to see me.’ Then the virtuous will say to him in reply, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you; or thirsty and give you drink? When did we see you a stranger and make you welcome; naked and clothe you; sick or in prison and go to see you?’ And the King will answer, ‘I tell you solemnly, in so far as you did this to one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did it to me.’” Let us pray for the grace to practise charity, particularly with those most in need, in every possible way all the days of our life. 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.