Message of Abbot Paul - Thursday - 15th February 2024
Abbot Paul • February 15, 2024
​Yesterday was my mother’s 97th birthday, but as it was Ash Wednesday and I had three Masses to celebrate, at Belmont, Bromyard and Leominster, it was impossible to be with her at home. Fortunately, she had many cards, visitors, flowers and presents, so my presence, and that of Toby, wasn’t missed. All things being equal, we hope to visit her on Monday, when we can have a joint celebration for both our birthdays. When I was a boy, it was always my mother who decided on my Lenten penance. 70 years’ ago, when I was 7, I was told to give up sugar in my tea and coffee, and I’ve been faithful ever since. Later on, it was other things I was ordered to give up: swearing, smoking, staying out late and then, girls! I think that in the case of the latter, her jealousy for her only son came into play: all happy memories now that we can laugh over, but it was no laughing matter then.
​Up until Shrove Tuesday, we were reading each day from the Gospel of Mark. During Lent, the daily Gospel passages come from all four Gospels, chosen on a thematic basis. Today’s reading comes from Luke, (Lk 9: 22-25). These two short sayings of Jesus, the first directed towards his disciples, the second rather more general, come just after the feeding of the five thousand. Jesus asks his disciples who they think he is. Peter replies, “You are the Messiah, the Christ of God.” Jesus warns his disciples that he might well not be the kind of Messiah they’re hoping for. “Jesus said to his disciples: ‘The Son of Man is destined to suffer grievously, to be rejected by the elders and chief priests and scribes and to be put to death, and to be raised up on the third day.’” He speaks to them of his Passion, Death and Resurrection. He will repeat these same words shortly, after his Transfiguration. For the moment, it is more than they can understand, more than they can accept, but he goes on to say that to be a disciple this is the only way to do it. “Then to all he said: ‘If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross every day and follow me. For anyone who wants to save his life will lose it; but anyone who loses his life for my sake, that man will save it. What gain, then, is it for a man to have won the whole world and to have lost or ruined his very self?’” These are powerful, thought-provoking words, not easily understood or put into practice. What can he mean, his hearers must be thinking?
​Today, the second day of Lent, Jesus is indicating the path we have to take if we wish to be his disciples and find our salvation in his Passion, Death and Resurrection. Our life, like his, must be the way of the cross, for we cannot follow him unless we are willing to renounce ourselves, take up our own cross every day and walk with him. That’s an interesting phrase, to renounce ourselves, to give up our own will or, better still, to conform our will to God’s will, so that “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” That is what Jesus means when he says that I have to lose my life for his sake in order to find it: renunciation of my own will and submission to God’s will. It sounds difficult, even uninviting, but in truth, obedience leads to freedom and freedom to peace of mind. Lord, help me to accept your will this Lent and to take up my cross every day and follow you. Amen.
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.
