Message of Abbot Paul - Sunday 9th July 2023

Abbot Paul • July 9, 2023
Early yesterday morning Toby and I came across a bush of ripe blackberries and, although it was only 8th July, I ate my first wild blackberries this year. Earlier in the week, we came across delicious wild strawberries in a wood not far from here and had our fill. I can’t help thinking how blessed we are to receive God’s gifts day after day through sight, smell and taste. The foraging season has most definitely begun. I always remember fondly how my grandmother and aunts in Italy would find the most delicious and nutritious food in the woods behind her house: fruits and berries of all sorts, nuts, salads leaves, asparagus, fungi, thistles, grasses and so on. How we would banquet all summer long and well into autumn and winter. My Welsh grandmother, too, was an old hand at foraging and, living near the sea, an expert user of the shrimp net. Do young people today live so close to nature and enjoy such healthy meals? I hope so, for there’s nothing like food found fresh in woods, hedgerows, dunes and beaches. One of my favourite little books, always at my bedside, is FOOD FOR FREE: THE FORAGER’S GUIDE by Richard Mabey. It’s well worth reading. Get a copy!
 
​Our Gospel passage today comes from Matthew, (Mt 11: 25-30). Here Jesus prays to his heavenly Father in the presence of his hearers and then invites them to come to him, that he might lighten their burdens and forgive their sins, as well as reveal the Father’s face to them. He exclaims, “I bless you, Father, Lord of heaven and of earth, for hiding these things from the learned and the clever and revealing them to mere children. Yes, Father, for that is what it pleased you to do. Everything has been entrusted to me by my Father; and no one knows the Son except the Father, just as no one knows the Father except the Son and those to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.” As he prays, Jesus teaches us that he has come to reveal the Father to his disciples, to those who are humble and open their hearts to him, not to the learned and the clever, but to mere children. In and through Jesus, we can come to know the Father.
 
​Jesus then invites us to come to him and exchange our burdens, the wounds of life and our sins, with his lighter yoke. If we are overburdened, which we probably are, then he will take our burdens and carry them for us. He invites us to offload our burdens onto him, for he will bear them for us as he bore the cross for us and shed his blood for us. In return he will give us his yoke which is easy and his burden which is light. What an exchange of gifts this is. God truly loves us.
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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.
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