Message of Abbot Paul - Thursday 23rd June
Abbot Paul • June 22, 2022
Message from Fr Paul for Thursday, 23rd June 2022
Because Friday is the feast of the Sacred Heart, that of the Nativity of St John the Baptist has been transferred from 24th to 23rd June. I find the transferring of feast days difficult to cope with, yet in the light of eternity it hardly matters. St John was conceived and born six months ahead of Jesus. Their mothers, Elizabeth and Mary, were kinswomen, second cousins perhaps, as Elizabeth was a good deal older than Mary. We can read all about their close relationship in the account of the Visitation, (Lk 1: 39-56), the passage previous to the one chosen for today’s feast. Throughout the ancient Christian world there are many traditions and customs associated with the birth of St John. It is undoubtedly one of my favourite feasts and mirrors the Nativity of Jesus, which we will celebrate in six months’ time.
Our Gospel comes from Luke, (Lk 1: 57-66, 80), who recounts all the details associated with John’s conception and birth. He tells us, “The time came for Elizabeth to have her child, and she gave birth to a son; and when her neighbours and relations heard that the Lord had shown her so great a kindness, they shared her joy.” In this short sentence alone, we find two of the major themes of Luke’s Gospel, the loving kindness of God and the joy of knowing the love that God has for each and every one of us. The friends and relations of Elizabeth share in her joy at the birth of a son. But what will this child be called? Will he be Zechariah like his father? That is what he would normally have been called, but his parents knew him to be a special gift from God and so would have a special name to mark that giftedness. “Now on the eighth day they came to circumcise the child; they were going to call him Zechariah after his father, but his mother spoke up. ‘No,’ she said ‘he is to be called John.’ They said to her, ‘But no one in your family has that name’, and made signs to his father to find out what he wanted him called. The father asked for a writing-tablet and wrote, ‘His name is John.’ And they were all astonished.” The name John means ‘graced by God’ or ‘God has been gracious.’
Elizabeth and Zechariah were, indeed, graced by God in the conception of John and God has continued to show his graciousness in the safe birth of the infant.
The story continues, “At that instant his power of speech returned and he spoke and praised God. All their neighbours were filled with awe and the whole affair was talked about throughout the hill country of Judaea. All those who heard of it treasured it in their hearts. ‘What will this child turn out to be?’ they wondered. And indeed, the hand of the Lord was with him. Meanwhile the child grew up and his spirit matured. And he lived out in the wilderness until the day he appeared openly to Israel.” Here we meet another characteristic of John and that is praise, which is closely linked with the awesomeness of God, which in turn is connected to the treasuring of God’s deeds in our hearts. Wonder and amazement are also linked to praise. We can see where the idea that God is a God of surprises originates. It’s here before our eyes. Just as Jesus has a hidden life until he is baptised by John in the Jordan, so too John has a hidden life in the wilderness until be begins to preach repentance openly and to baptise, at the same time preparing the way of the Lord, prophesying the coming of the Messiah.
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.
