Message of Abbot Paul - Thursday - 8th February 2024
Abbot Paul • February 7, 2024
​Although it was a bit colder yesterday than Tuesday and some parts of the country are threatened with snow and ice, nevertheless it was a beautiful day which began, as always, with Toby’s early morning walk, his favourite and mine. At the moment he is pursued by an army of robins, all singing at the top of their voices, avian war songs, I should imagine, but he’s such a gentle giant!
Our Gospel passage from Mark, (Mk 7: 24-30), sees Jesus moving from Galilee to Tyre, a pagan region. “Jesus left Gennesaret and set out for the territory of Tyre. There he went into a house and did not want anyone to know he was there, but he could not pass unrecognised.” Why did he go there and why didn’t he want people to know? He was probably exhausted by all the work he had been doing in the Jewish provinces, healing the sick, casting out evil spirits, teaching, dealing with large crowds and entering constantly into argument with the scribes and Pharisees. It’s quite probable that he just wanted a rest, some quiet time. We’ve all had that experience. But things weren’t quite so easy. Word travels, and travel it did long before the Internet and modern mass media.
​“A woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit heard about him straightaway and came and fell at his feet. Now the woman was a pagan, by birth a Syrophoenician, and she begged him to cast the devil out of her daughter.” Poor woman, she has everything against her. Uninvited, she enters the house and throws herself at Jesus’ feet. She knows that she has no right to do this but she has nothing to lose. She’s a pagan and a woman, her daughter has an unclean spirit and so is regarded as unclean herself, yet here she is approaching a Jewish rabbi. The Greek form of the verb to beg used by Mark means to keep on begging. At first Jesus appears to be unmoved. “And he said to her, ‘The children should be fed first, because it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the house-dogs.’ But she spoke up: ‘Ah yes, sir,’ she replied ‘but the house-dogs under the table can eat the children’s scraps.’“ His words seem harsh and unkind, but she takes no notice and keeps on begging, even answering him back; even dogs eat the scraps that fall from children’s plates. She’s only asking for scraps for her own child. Although Jesus doesn’t say as much, her words show humility and perseverance, the two requisites necessary for true prayer and genuine faith. Little wonder he says to her, “For saying this, you may go home happy: the devil has gone out of your daughter.” She takes Jesus at his word and asks for nothing more. The healing of her daughter means more to her than anything else. “So she went off to her home and found the child lying on the bed and the devil gone.”
​There is much to be learned from this episode in the life of Jesus. To begin with, that only God can judge the faith of a person. Only he can see what is in a person’s heart. At times people outside the household of the faith have more faith than those within it. Secondly, her humility in prayer. She is not praying, “Lord, give me what I deserve on the basis of my goodness.” Rather she is saying, “Give me what I don’t deserve on the basis of your goodness.” She recognises the primacy of God’s loving kindness and mercy over our own goodness. Healing is not a right but a grace freely given. Thirdly, God does answer our prayers and the prayers of all those who approach him with a sincere heart.
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.
