Father Franks Log

father frank's log...

5/28/2020

FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 24th – 31st MAY 2020

It’s been a strange kind of week. To cut a long story short, my brother went into hospital yet again last Friday and came out again on Sunday; the post for St. Mungo’s was collected from the depot without fuss in the early hours of Saturday; Father Justinian was taken into hospital on Monday night, tests still ongoing, but tested negative for Coronavirus; I conducted the burial of a 93 year old at St. Conval’s on Tuesday, with just four other people present, but I found it very prayerful just the same; and I celebrated the 19th anniversary of my mum’s death on Wednesday. She died on May 27th, 2001. I had taken over as Rector and Parish Priest of Mount Argus in Dublin at the beginning of that year, and it just so happened that, in Ireland, May 27th was the Solemnity of the Ascension. I had just come off the altar after celebrating the Family Mass when my brother, the one mentioned above, called to say that our mum, whom he lived with and looked after, had died suddenly and unexpectedly that morning. I won’t go into all the details but in the hours I had to sit around with my thoughts, before getting on a plane to Glasgow that night, I found it poignant that, on a day when I was preaching about one kind of presence of Christ coming to an end - his bodily, physical presence; but only to be replaced by another kind of presence - a presence in Spirit; something very similar seemed to be happening with my mum. And while I would have wished to hold on to her bodily, physical presence, her presence in spirit has always seemed very near and very real throughout the years. The Ascension has never been the same since.

So, at present, there is only Father Antony and myself at home. It’s hard to believe that, just before lock down, there were five of us in our four-bedroom house in Bishopbriggs, and now, for the time being anyway, there are only two of us. On Tuesday night we celebrated and streamed a Taize style prayer service, inviting those praying with us online to unite with Mary and the Apostles in the upper room, preparing for a fresh outpouring of the Holy Spirit. The music on that night was simple and reflective, but for some of the Masses streamed from the oratory I have found myself using hymns from my old Charismatic Renewal days, mostly because they have catchy melodies and simple words, and are therefore, hopefully, easy for those joining us on the internet to pick up and sing. Whoever sings, prays twice. Afterwards, I sometimes receive e-mails from people, telling me how nostalgic it made them feel, and some of you may remember, back in the late 70’s and early 80’s, there was a thriving charismatic prayer group taking place weekly in St. Paul’s Hall in St. Mungo’s, the grace of the Holy Spirit outpouring all over the place. While it has not been part of my life for many years now, I will always be grateful for my involvement in the renewal from the beginning of my student days, when, because I played guitar, my student directors had me travelling with them to different prayer groups around the country, until just before my ordination, by which time my prayer life had taken on a more contemplative bent. But I think a new love, excitement, and appreciation for the scriptures, and a vivid awareness of the power of the Holy Spirit in my life, can be traced back to those days, and so they will always be remembered fondly.

As mentioned, Father Justinian is at present in hospital; Father Gareth is still in Wales with his mum with not much to report, the Child of Prague is still on the way – perhaps quarantined somewhere for a fortnight; Father Antony is still running around Cadder golf course and keeping touch with his mum on his nightly walks. My life has been a bit scattered as you can see. I had two late nights, one when I fell asleep on the chair while reading a book and woke at 1.00 a.m.; the other when I mistakenly put my towels on a long wash, instead of a short wash, number 5 instead of number 6, and, because we have one of those washing machines which they say can unexpectedly catch fire, I didn’t want to go to bed until the cycle was over and I could turn the machine off, and once again that turned out to be at 1.00 a.m. Fortunately, on both occasions, I slept well afterwards. What will this week bring?
As always, protect yourself, your loved ones and others, and protect Christ in your life.

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father frank's log...

5/21/2020

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FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 17th – 24th MAY 2020

Just a wee update on a couple of things from last week. On Saturday morning I left the house in Bishopbriggs at 6.00 a.m. and made my way to the Royal Mail delivery office in Baird Street, after my failed attempt earlier in the week to find out what was happening to our St. Mungo’s post. Even at that hour there was a socially distanced queue forming and I was 5th in the queue. It was a cold morning but I was well wrapped up with my scarf around my mouth to form a mask in obedience to Nicola. At 7.00 a.m. the Customer Service section opened and at around 7.20 a.m. I was allowed in. No sooner had I said I was the parish priest of St. Mungo’s and provided my I.D. than the very pleasant man behind the screen went scurrying off and came back with a huge bundle of post covering the previous 3 weeks. In a brief conversation, mindful of the ever-growing queue outside, I understood that this would be the procedure for the time being until things return to some state of normality. I never discovered why mail was being delivered during the first 4 weeks of lock down and then stopped, but I was just relieved that, when I got the chance to go through it, everything I had been expecting was there, and I was able to update necessary admin. As I left the delivery office the queue was once again stretching a long way down Baird Street and I felt a pang of sympathy for those whom I knew, from previous experience, would still be in the queue when the doors would be closed at 9.00 a.m. and who would need to come back another day. Still and all, I have reinstated the postal service as recipients of my Thursday night appreciative applause.

The previous day I had gone to the QUEH to collect my brother and bring him home. There had been false alarms on Wednesday and Thursday but I was assured that he would be coming home on Friday. After our streamed Mass out at the oratory in Bishopbriggs I drove to the hospital and found a parking space in the number one car park. For some reason I had expected the hospital to be quieter but finding a parking space was as difficult as ever. I discovered that the discharge area I was expecting to go to is now in fact the Covid-19 special assessment and treatment area known as SATA. This must have been where my brother was admitted the previous week. The discharge area is now the main hospital atrium and it was quite chaotic. There were patients, visitors and staff milling around all over the place – some socially distancing, some not; some wearing masks, some not; but the staff both outside and inside were doing a great job with exemplary patience and courtesy to help everyone. When I called the ward as instructed, my brother was ready to go but they were waiting for a porter; then, when the porter arrived, they had to wait for the pharmacist to come and check the newly adjusted medication that was ready for bringing home. I got the impression this could take a while, so I decided to go out and get some fresh air with the staff nurse having promised to call me. I had about an hour’s walk before the call came. Everything was in order but they had to wait for a porter again. Eventually, he was brought down to the atrium and I was able to get him into the car and bring him home. Since then, his home care has been stepped up and, while he is a bit frailer than before he went in, he is glad to be back in his own space. None of this is any way a criticism because, in such difficult times, I am in awe at the amazing job the NHS and other care services are selflessly doing – thank you.

We Passionists are still doing okay. I have heard a good bit from Father Gareth this week. His mum is still isolating; he is doing the shopping, and they are minding each other and watching the Soaps. No sign of the Infant of Prague arriving in Merthyr yet. Father Justinian is getting more adventurous in his daily walks, especially now that Colonel Tom is going to be knighted. Father Antony is keeping up the running most days, and of course still drops by his mum’s each night on his walk to have a chat from the garden. My routine is a bit more erratic as you can see from the above, but my evenings are usually relaxed, reading a book or watching old episodes of the West Wing – best series ever – although 24 would run it close.
As always, protect yourself, your loved ones and others, and protect Christ in your life.

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Father Frank's Log...

5/14/2020

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.FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 10th – 17th MAY 2020

Just after I posted the log last Thursday I went up to my brother and found him unwell and confused. I phoned the local health centre to ask for advice but the reception had just closed for the public holiday weekend. I phoned the surgery and was told that the doctor was in with her last patient before finishing up for the holiday weekend too, but that she would ask her to phone me back. This she did, and after a brief conversation she kindly offered to come up to the house. After a check-up it was agreed that the best thing was for my brother to go into hospital for a fuller examination. As he was displaying a high temperature, he would have to go through the Covid-19 admission section and be tested for the virus. The doctor phoned the hospital to arrange for admission, and then phoned the ambulance. She offered to stay but I thought she had already been very attentive and so I said we were fine, and that I would be there to wait for the ambulance with him. She reminded me that I would be unable to go in with him, but I already knew that. The ambulance took three hours to come, but I had received a phone call in between to check on his condition, apologising for the delay, and saying how busy they were, but that they would be with us as soon as was possible. When they did come, once again they were extremely kind and reassuring, and soon had him whisked off to the QUEH. As it turns out it’s not the coronavirus, but another infection, and I hope that by the time today is out I will have brought him home. I have to say though, that any time I phoned for an update it was answered immediately and an update given. On three occasions the hospital phoned me before I phoned them, so I just want to pay my own tribute to the health system as I have experienced it on this occasion, and in these troubled times.

As I had mentioned last week, I conducted a burial service in the last couple of days, complying with all the usual protocols and restrictions. It took place in a northside cemetery that I couldn’t remember ever being in before, although I could have been, many years ago. I arrived early and went to the No. 1 car park as instructed, to wait for the hearse and the family to arrive. I could see the freshly dug grave nearby, so, as it was a beautiful, sunny day, with blue skies and fluffy clouds, I wandered up to the grave and then decided to take a stroll. I had hardly gone ten steps when the names on a gravestone at the edge of a row caught my eye. It was my aunt, my father’s sister, who was also my godmother, buried alongside her husband and their daughter. I could hardly believe my eyes. I would have been away studying when my aunt died and I wouldn’t have been in Scotland for my uncle and cousin’s funerals either, and I wouldn’t have known where they were buried, so it was an extraordinary providence to come across their grave, and to be able to say a prayer for them.

Returning to base, we haven’t received any post here in St. Mungo’s for three weeks now. I have been unable to get any response on a post office help line, either by telephone or online. I went to the local depot where I would normally collect undelivered parcels, but they were only opening from 7am to 9am, excluding Wednesdays and Sundays. This morning I left the house at 7am to give it a go, but the queue was already snaking around the corner and down the road. After about half an hour of little progress the man in front of me asked if this was my first time. I said it was. He then pessimistically said to me, “You’ve no chance”. He went on to explain that the previous Thursday he had queued up for an hour and a half. At 9am, when he was two from the front of the queue, the doors were closed from the inside. Nobody came out to say anything at any stage. He asked if I would mind his place while he went to check if the same thing was going to happen again or had they changed policy. That was the last I saw of him, but, true enough, when 9am came, by which time I was nowhere near the front of the queue, the doors were locked from the inside, no information given, and a big crowd of frustrated people were left outside. Where is our St. Mungo’s post? I will try again tomorrow, perhaps arriving at 6am to be hopefully near the head of the queue. We are all still well, D.G., so continue to protect yourselves and others, and protect Christ in your lives.

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father frank's log...

5/7/2020

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FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 3rd – 10th MAY 2020

As I write I am aware that the last public Mass celebrated here in St. Mungo’s was seven weeks ago today, on the Feast of St. Joseph, and it is still very difficult to say when the next public Mass will be. Those who join us for the Masses streamed from our oratory in Bishopbriggs each day may have heard me tell of a dream I had last Monday night. I dreamt I was celebrating Mass in St. Mungo’s with a small group of people, well-spaced out as required, when suddenly the doors burst open and a big group of tourists poured in and started to fill up the benches. In a panic I tried to tell them that it could only be two people to a bench, but to no avail. That then segued into a similar dream, and while I am not conscious of being overly anxious about this, it is obviously playing around in my mind as discussions continue between the bishops and the government as to when, and with what restrictions in terms of public safety, our churches might safely open again. It’s not easy.

Yesterday I conducted a cremation for one of our parishioners who had died of the virus, but who also had other serious underlying medical conditions. Only 10 people were allowed into the crematorium chapel where the seats had been arranged to comply with current guidelines. Other people gathered outside. Before the service started, I met a neighbouring parish priest who had conducted the service beforehand. He also happens to be my niece’s brother-in-law. It was good to see him and to have a brief exchange on how things were going. Neither of us was stuck for things to do, but at the same time we were longing to be back in our churches. I also heard from another parish priest for whom we had provided cover while he was recovering from surgery at the end of last year. He was kindly enquiring how we were, and in fact we ourselves had been thinking of him and hoping he was able to use the quieter lock-down time to make a fuller recovery. Next week I will have a burial with similar restrictions to the cremation. I was thinking of how each year we have a Mass in November to remember all those who died and were buried or cremated in the previous year, and how important that will be next November to provide an opportunity for families to grieve together, but that’s presuming we are able to gather for Mass by November, which is by no means certain.

The latest from Father Gareth is that he and his mum are well and that they are watching a lot of biblical epics on television. Father Gareth loves his old films and I would say he is piling up a few biblical stories, according to Hollywood, to regale us with when he gets back to celebrating Mass in St. Mungo’s. We can’t wait! Getting the shopping in, he says, has become increasingly more difficult as there seem to be fewer and fewer buses in the Valleys, but they are managing. Having praised Father Antony’s hairdressing skills last week, we have been wondering how Father Gareth’s hair is doing as when it gets longer it tends to go very curly, which he doesn’t like, so he may be a bit of an awesome sight at the moment. I have to humbly take back what I said last week about Father Antony’s age and condition, after his first jogging venture, as he is now running much more regularly, even in the hottest of weather, and looking fit and tanned. My own running days are definitely over, but I have been trying to get my walk in most days, even if only to counteract the over-indulgence in chocolate. Father Justinian is trying to keep up his daily garden walk, but he has also discovered a cosy spot at the side of the house where he can sit out in the sun and be sheltered from the breeze, so, as long as the good weather lasts, he will take advantage of that.

Meantime, we continue streaming our daily Masses from the oratory and, during Eastertide, we hope to provide a couple of special services. One will be a Service of Reconciliation, incorporating an act of perfect contrition, as we know people are still concerned about not getting to Confession. The other will be a Taize-style prayer focussing on Mary, praying with the disciples in the upper room, waiting for Pentecost. We hope you can join us. As always, protect yourselves, protect your loved ones and others, and protect Christ in your lives.

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father frank's log...

4/30/2020

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FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 26th APRIL – 3rd MAY 2020

Last night I was the priest on call for the Glasgow Royal Infirmary. This was the third time I had been on call since lockdown began, and conditions for attending patients became severely restricted. I never sleep well when I’m on call, there is a part of me that is always expecting the pager to go off and I don’t want to miss it, even though it sounds very loudly and not hearing it would be highly unlikely. Last night there were no calls, nor the time before, but on the first night of lockdown I was called out in the wee hours of the morning and, as it turned out, it was to attend the sister of a long-time friend of mine. I anointed her and she died a few hours later. When the funeral eventually took place my friend and his wife were in isolation and he could only watch as the hearse drove past the window of his house for him to pay last respects to his dear sister. Strange times, and sad times too, in such cases.

I have added to my routine in the past ten days or so. Until now I have been mostly at home in Bishopbriggs, alternating with Father Antony to celebrate the lunchtime Mass streamed on YouTube. I go into the church most days to put some heating on for a while, check the post, do essential administration, and celebrate Mass, on the days when I am not saying the house Mass. I then head out to Drumchapel to attend to my vulnerable brother, and then back to Bishopbriggs for a quiet evening. I have now added a daily walk to my routine. Mostly I do this along the Forth and Clyde Canal, varying the direction in which I walk. One day, however, I took my walk in the Glasgow Necropolis next to St. Mungo’s Cathedral. Whenever I walk in the Necropolis I think of an old lady, some years ago, who told one of our Passionist priests who was visiting her in the Royal that, each night, she would look out of her window at the statue of the Sacred Heart in the cemetery, and pray her rosary. The statue of the Sacred Heart she was referring to was in fact John Knox. There is a lovely irony to that. On this occasion I took a lower path I hadn’t followed before and came upon the Jewish Enclosure with graves from 1832-55. The plot contains a number of adults, but also many children and stillborn infants. The inscription on the stone was the text that we listen to on the Feast of the Holy Innocents, when St. Matthew cites the prophet Jeremiah: A voice was heard in Ramah; sobbing and loudly lamenting; it was Rachel weeping for her children; refusing to be comforted, because they were no more. I found this deeply moving.

Father Justinian recently had a variation to his isolation when he received a call from Stobhill to attend for his Warfarin check. He had assumed that, because of his 89 years, this would be cancelled but, in the absence of any communication requiring him to shield, he was told to come. I think he enjoyed getting out for a bit, but now it’s back to walking in the garden. I suggested he do a Captain Tom and raise a few million, but he declined. Father Antony decided one day to go out for a long run. Next day he was soaking his aching muscles in a bath – he’s not as young and fit as he used to be. He did, however, reveal a talent for cutting hair. For some unknown reason, his mum had given him a gift of hair clippers some years ago, and so, Father Justinian and myself were happy to place our trust in him, and let him give us a trim. He made a very good job of it. So, thanks to him and thanks to his mum, whom he still speaks to from the garden on his nightly walks. Father Gareth and his mum are still doing okay down in the Valleys. I had an email from someone in the Czech Republic who wanted to send them a statue of the Infant of Prague. It turns out Father Gareth knew this person from his volunteer days, and so he was happy that I give her his mum’s address. So, the Infant of Prague is on his way, perhaps from Prague, to Merthyr Tydfil. The original statue was a Royal Wedding gift, and it can still make an appearance at Irish Catholic weddings where it is considered a good luck omen if the head falls off; it can also be put out in the open to solicit good weather. I remember this happening at our Retreat House in Crossgar before the annual garden fete - it didn’t always work though.
As always, protect yourselves; protect loved ones and others, and protect Christ in your life.

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father frank's log...

4/23/2020

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FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 19th – 26th APRIL 2020

On Monday of this week I watched a recording of the BBC Scotland documentary, Priest School, which I had been unable to watch when it was shown the previous evening. For this documentary the BBC were given rare access, by the Scottish Conference of Bishops, to the inner workings, personnel, seminarians, and history of the Scots College in Rome which, as it so happens, is the oldest Scottish institution abroad, dating back to its foundation in 1600. The programme followed part of the formation and faith journey of the class of 2018/2019, with a special focus on five of the seminarians at differing stages in their studies, one who was only in his first year, and one in his seventh year, nearing the end. The culmination of the documentary was when the most senior of the students, who had featured prominently throughout, the one in seventh year, came home to be ordained at St. Thomas’ in Wishaw.

I’m not going to give a running commentary on the programme as I’m sure many of you watched it, or are intending to watch it on playback. It was well promoted in the various diocese, and in the Catholic media, both at the time it was being made, and in the lead up to it being shown. The first thing I want to say is well done to the Bishop’s Conference for allowing it, and well done to the college staff and the seminarians for taking part, it was a really courageous thing to do in these difficult times for the church. A number of the seminarians are known to us here in St. Mungo’s as, when they come home for a break, and they are all home at this time because of the Coronavirus, they would sometimes appear in our church, perhaps to celebrate the Sacrament of Reconciliation, or say a prayer, or attend Mass. Of course, they are not able to do any of those things at present either. But we have come to know them as good men of faith, and we would remember them often in our prayers.
I have to confess that I watched the programme with a certain trepidation as there is always a fear that the church might be caricatured in media presentation, and not really shown in a good light. However, I have to say well done to BBC Scotland also, as I felt it was presented very well, and very sympathetically, with Daniela Nardini narrating beautifully. I was struck by the audience the seminarians had with Pope Francis during the Scottish Bishop’s Ad Limina visit in 2018. The first-year student had only arrived a few days before and couldn’t believe his luck. Archbishop Tartaglia remarked on how much of his time Pope Francis had given them, in no hurry it seemed, even to go for his lunch, while the Archbishop himself was getting a bit ravenous. The seminarians spoke warmly of this encounter and I hope that is something they carry forward with them, together with an appreciation of where Pope Francis is trying to lead the church, in faithfulness to Christ and to the Gospel, despite opposition.

The scenes in the college itself, and in the Gregorian University, brought back memories of my own time in Rome,1982-83, when I was doing my diaconate year in preparation for my own ordination. I too studied at the Gregorian University and was warmly welcomed by the easily recognised, purple-clad Scots College students, and, while I myself was living in the Passionist monastery of Saints John and Paul, near to the Colosseum, I was frequently invited out to the Scots College for a bite to eat, to watch Celtic videos, and to take part in a few kick-abouts with the students. I was glad to see that football continues to play a part in seminary life. I enjoyed one of the lads who was still holding on to his season ticket for Celtic Park, even though he could only manage about three games a year, because the seat was too good to give up. I’m sure family and friends are benefitting from his ticket the rest of the time. I was also invited to some of the feast day celebrations mentioned in the programme and remember the staff and the students as being excellent hosts. Fond memories indeed.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, no great change to life in Bishopbriggs. Our routine remains the same and we are all, thank God, keeping fine. Fr. Gareth and his mum remain well in the Valleys. So, remember, protect yourselves, protect others, and protect Christ in your lives.

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father frank's log...

4/16/2020

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FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 12th – 19th APRIL 2020

Easter Sunday is come and gone, but Easter is far from over. Often, people who have made a great effort to get daily Mass during Lent, this year mostly online, see Easter Sunday as the culmination of that journey, and yet the Octave of Easter, and indeed the whole Easter Season, gives us the chance to deepen our faith in the Lord’s Resurrection, and to be transformed from within by the Spirit of the Risen Christ who dwells within us. So, by all means, start consuming chocolate again, or whatever else you may have given up, but don’t give up on Mass too soon, especially as the continuing lockdown provides a rare opportunity.
While we were able to celebrate daily Masses, and provide other services on the internet during Holy Week, Father Antony and I celebrated the Sacred Triduum, just the two of us, in an empty St. Mungo’s church, where unfortunately we have no streaming facility, but holding the thought and the image of all you in the pews before us. You may have seen on the news that a church in the Philippines put photographs of their parishioners on the pews to keep them in mind and heart. We didn’t do that, but we felt your presence with us all the same.

Out at the house, in our oratory, we streamed a Service of Healing and Reconciliation on the Tuesday of Holy Week, incorporating the act of perfect contrition which is the instruction for receiving forgiveness of sins at this time, being unable to celebrate Sacramental Confession. In the afternoon of Holy Thursday, we streamed a Taize Prayer Service with a reflection for that day, something we repeated on Good Friday and Holy Saturday. That night we also streamed a Holy Hour, watching one hour with Jesus in the Garden. For the Holy Thursday Mass of the Last Supper, in the empty church, Father Antony was the main celebrant. There was no washing of the feet, but he reminded me that last Holy Thursday, after I had washed his feet, and proclaimed them the biggest feet I had ever seen in my life, I then told him that it would be his turn this year, as he would by then be ordained a priest. But he needn’t think his turn has come and gone. Please God, he will be washing feet next Holy Thursday.

On Good Friday we had a reading of St. John’s Passion after our Good Friday Taize Prayer, and then we came in to the empty church for the Good Friday Service. Again, we read St. John’s Passion, followed by the Good Friday intercessions, including a special intercession in light of the Coronavirus. We then carried the cross through the church to the altar and venerated the cross. Again, while still just the two of us, it seemed very moving and poignant. That night, back at the house, we streamed the Seven Last Words from the Cross, Fr Antony and I alternating with reflections on each word in turn, a great Passionist tradition. On Holy Saturday night Father Antony and I celebrated the Easter Vigil in the church, blessing and lighting the paschal candle; recounting salvation history through the readings; singing the Easter Alleluia and proclaiming the Easter Gospel; renewing our Baptism promises and celebrating the Holy Eucharist, again holding each of you before us as we did so. On Easter Sunday we streamed the Easter Mass of the Day from the oratory at 12 noon. It may have been the strangest Holy Week ever, but there was still something very prayerful and poignant about it, and we felt a deep connection with all who celebrated with us on the internet, and were quite astounded at the numbers of people who logged in to join us.

Throughout Easter, for as long as lockdown lasts, we will continue to stream Mass each day from the oratory at 12.15pm (7pm on a Sunday); but Mass will also be celebrated quietly in the church on most days. The lockdown routine remains the same for Fr Justinian, Fr Antony and myself. We have seen more of our neighbours than usual and they have been kind in their condolences regarding Fr Lawrence, and in their offer of help of any kind should we need it, an offer we have also gratefully received from parishioners. Fr Gareth has recovered from his sore throat and blocked nose and is discovering new routes to walk in Merthyr Tydfil. So, as always, protect yourselves, protect others, and protect Christ in your life, through prayer.

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father frank's log...

4/9/2020

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FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 5th – 12th APRIL 2020

The early part of April this year has commemorated a couple of landmark anniversaries for me and my family. On 1st April 2000 I conducted the wedding of my niece, so this year marked their 20th anniversary. I’m ashamed to say I forgot about it, initially, and then belatedly contacted her to offer the two of them my congratulations. It was a memorable day and it was the last family gathering that my mother attended before she passed away the following year. The father of the bride, my famous, or infamous brother, the doyen of Scottish sport’s journalists as I like to call him, is still in lockdown with his beloved wife, but using social media he was able to get a lovely Italian meal, complimented by good wine, sent to his daughter and son-in-law, from Massimo’s Restaurant in Bearsden, so that they could celebrate. I am also writing this log on Holy Wednesday, and this marks the 60th anniversary of my father’s death. On the morning of Friday 8th April 1960, the Friday before the beginning of Holy Week that year, two policemen came to our door at 5 Thurso Street in Partick, to inform my mother that her husband, who was working away in Consett at the time, in the steel works, having been made redundant from the shipyards, had collapsed and died on his way to work earlier that very day. It’s hard to believe that 60 years have passed since then. My brothers and I were 6, 8 and 10 years of age at the time. Our mother was 40.

In the meantime, we, the Passionists, have settled into a different pattern of life, and this now includes streaming some Masses and Services from the oratory of our Passionist community house in Bishopbriggs. Unfortunately, we are not able to do it from the church as we don’t have proper streaming facilities, but people who have been able to log in seem to enjoy the intimacy of the smaller space, while still of course longing for our return to St. Mungo’s. We are also being joined by people from Ireland and also from other countries, Italy, Spain and Singapore included. There has been the odd technical glitch but, for the most part, it has gone quite smoothly. The actual oratory in our house is very small and wouldn’t have been at all suitable, and so, for the time being, we have converted Father Lawrence’s room into a sacred space and that is where we stream from. Father Lawrence continues to make his presence felt. While we were streaming our Service of Healing and Reconciliation on Holy Tuesday night, just as Father Antony prepared to proclaim the first reading, a telephone sounded. We cast accusatory glances at each other, wondering who was daft enough to leave their phone on, and then we realised that, from behind a curtain concealing a book case, it was actually Father Lawrence’s phone that was sounding. Father Antony quickly turned it off and we resumed the service. Afterwards I tried to redial the number but it appeared to be withheld.

Tonight, Holy Wednesday, our Passionist Young Team are going to pray the Stations of the Cross online. With Father Gareth away, I took the unlikely step of joining Facebook so as to support Father Antony in contact with the young people in any way that I could. As an avowed technophobe, however, I had no idea what this actually entailed, and I got a bit panicky when my mailbox filled up with all these friend requests, hundreds of them, some from very good people I knew, but mostly from people I’ve never heard of in my life. I have decided, therefore, that after the Stations of the Cross this night I am going to un-subscribe, or whatever it is you do, as I don’t really see myself becoming a social media buff - a night in with a good book seems much more appealing. Otherwise, Father Gareth is still in Wales, with a bit of a sore throat at present, and a blocked nose, so it’s really his mum that’s looking after him now and not vice-versa. Father Antony maintains his evening walks, still stopping at his mum’s house; I continue to provide daily care for my brother who has now received his letter from the Prime Minister, although, vulnerable as he is, he might be in better shape than poor Boris at the moment; and lastly, Father Justinian, who today celebrates his 89th birthday, continues his house isolation, with an occasional walk in the garden. So, have a truly blessed Easter; as always, protecting yourselves and others, and protecting Christ in your lives

1 Comment

Father frank's log...

4/2/2020

4 Comments

FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 29th MARCH – 5th APRIL 2020
Over the past few years I have tended to view my Log as a light hearted journal of mostly mundane happenings, both past and present, designed to reveal, for me at least, but I believe also for everyone, how God is present, and there to be found, in the ordinariness of everyday life, in the routine things, people and events that make up the quotidian existence of most of us. I would actually be quite surprised at the number of people, and even the variety of people, who would tell me they regularly read it and enjoy it, and even more surprised that now and again someone takes the time to send me a comment. It is really quite humbling.

This past couple of weeks though, the Log has taken on another dimension, with readership increasing and the number of comments multiplying. It seems that, in some simple way, this is because of a felt need and longing, as family of faith, unable to gather with each other in the usual way, to really know how we are all getting on in these extraordinary and even frightening times. People seem to appreciate knowing how life is for us as a Passionist community in this time of lockdown, how we are functioning each day, and how does that compare with how life is for each of you at this time too. Somehow it brings us closer together in a shared experience and concern for each other while holding each other in prayer.

Since last week’s Log Father Lawrence has been laid to rest. It took place last Friday 28th March. Just eight family members plus myself and Father Antony were present. At our Passionist plot in St. Kentigern’s, Lawrence was placed in the same layer as Father Anthony Behan and Father Eustace Cassidy. In a letter I had received from a Cross and Passion Sister who had worked with Lawrence in Botswana, at the mission in Tsabong, way out in the Kalahari Desert, she had enclosed a packet containing some sand from that part of the desert. After the coffin was lowered and the initial prayers said, I poured this sand into the grave as we recalled that we are dust, and unto dust we must return. It seemed appropriate to do that.

Since last week also, we have managed to find a way of streaming Masses and other services, not from the church, but from the oratory at our house in Bishopbriggs. So far, so good. We stream Mass at 12.15pm Monday to Saturday, and at 7pm on a Sunday. Holy Week will be different so keep an eye on the website to know what’s happening, and when. We still celebrate in the church and keep an eye on things. Antony and I alternate the streamed Masses and, last Tuesday, when I was in at the church, I tuned in and heard Antony preach a lovely homily on the Mysterium Iniquitatis (the mystery of sin). He then finished Mass with a bit of Swahili. I was reminded of a quiz show I sometimes listen to in bed on BBC Radio 4 on a Saturday night. It’s called the 3rd Degree and in it, University Dons take on their students. One of the rounds is called Highbrow, Lowbrow as, on any given topic, the competitors can choose to try and answer a really intelligent question or a very simple question. As someone who just about manages in English, I was thinking that our daily Masses may be Highbrow, Lowbrow, one day Antony, the next day me, with no prizes for guessing which is which. Seriously, though, it was a really fine homily he preached, but don’t tell him I said that!

Father Justinian stays at home as advised; I make my daily trips to my brother to provide essential care; while Father Antony goes out for an evening walk as his daily exercise, often stopping at the back door of his mother’s house and speaking to her from the safety of the garden. Father Gareth remains in Wales. Commenting on last Sunday’s Gospel of the raising of Lazarus, he told me that his mother shared with him that she believed that Martha knew Jesus would find a way out of the tomb for her brother, just as he will find a way out of this crisis for us who trust in him at all times. Who needs theologians? Thank you, Gareth’s mum.

So; keep safe and well everybody, protect yourselves, protect others, and protect Christ in your lives through prayer, and why not do that together with us in our streaming service?

4 Comments

Father Frank's Log...

3/26/2020

8 Comments

FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 22nd – 29th MARCH 2020
To anyone who reads this, I hope you are keeping safe and well, and adhering to the advice we have received on how to keep the coronavirus at bay. Each of us will find the way to do this appropriate to our own personal circumstances. We can’t take chances as we seek to express our solidarity with each other, to protect ourselves, to protect our loved ones, to protect other people, and, as Pope Francis once said, to protect Christ in our lives.

As far as my own personal circumstances are concerned, I am living in a kind of semi-isolation. I come into the church from Bishopbriggs each day, completely empty except for the presence of the Lord in the tabernacle. I celebrate Mass, placing all of you on the altar, and maintain a watchful check on the place. I am reminded of when I used to sit in the empty church as a child, this was in St. Simon’s in Partick, while my father did some maintenance work in the boiler house. I was always fascinated by the sanctuary lamp and by what it signified, that Christ was present in the Blessed Sacrament. I would look at the tabernacle and imagine that this must be what my soul looked like inside of me, because I believed Christ was present there too. It was only my child-like imagination, but it was very real to me.

After making sure I have kept any essential administration up to date, I then leave to go and cook and clean for my younger brother. I am allowed to do this as he is a vulnerable person and I am his primary carer. The other carers who were coming called me to cancel for the foreseeable future as they were only doing life and limb care, as they expressed it, and so they asked if I could compensate for their absence, and I will do everything I can to sustain that.

I have only had to do one shopping for my brother so far as his needs are very simple, taking care to keep a safe distance from other shoppers as advised. I haven’t had any problem getting the things I need for him, no need for panic buying, and I even managed to get four toilet rolls. While his medication is delivered, I did have to go and collect some repeat medication for myself, forming part of an orderly and well spaced-out queue on the main street in Bishopbriggs, while only two or three people at a time were let in to the pharmacy. It was all done in a good spirit, and I think I am well stocked now for the next couple of months. I also had some minor surgery cancelled which I have to confess did not upset me one bit as I wasn’t looking forward, either to the procedure itself, or to what I was meant to do to prepare for it – I will leave it up to your own imagination to guess what it was.

I have also had to make preparations for Father Lawrence’s funeral, choosing the coffin, selecting the grave to be opened in our Passionist plot in St. Kentigern’s, and putting together whatever kind of service it is possible to have for the small number of blood family and Passionist family who are able to gather. Sometime in the future, when this crisis is over, we will have a memorial Mass for Father Lawrence as there are so many people who are saddened by his death, a sadness heightened by not being able to say a proper farewell.

Out at the house there are now just three of us; Fr Justinian, Fr Antony and myself. Fr Gareth managed to get away before the lockdown to be with his mum in Merthyr Tydfil, probably the best place for him to be at this time. We are practicing safe distancing within the house and finding new ways of being together, new ways of reaching out to the sick and housebound, and new ways of keeping the Passionist Young Team in contact with each other, one of whom organised a shared prayer time through a video conferencing site called Zoom. So, we are all doing whatever we can, and perhaps, instead of isolation, we can talk about solitude, a tried and tested practice in the Christian tradition that can draw us into a deep communion with God and with one another. Let us hold each other in prayer at this time.

God is preparing a treasure of graces and blessings for you in solitude (St. Paul of the Cross)

8 Comments

Father Frank's Log...

3/19/2020

6 Comments

FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 15th – 22nd MARCH 2020

On the same day I had to announce to people that all public Masses in Scotland were suspended until further notice, I also had to announce the death of Father Lawrence Byrne CP, a member of our Passionist community here at St. Mungo’s. It was a real double-whammy for people, like a double bereavement, the loss of not being able to gather for the Eucharist, the source and summit of our Christian lives, for God only knows how long; and the loss of a man who was a much loved preacher and confessor, and whose kind and gentle approach endeared him to so many folk who will grieve at the thought of never seeing or hearing him again. I don’t think he realized how much loved he was, perhaps people didn’t tell him enough, but they certainly told us.

Lawrence was born in Irvine during the 2nd World War. On his birth certificate his father is described as an explosives’ worker. Lawrence himself qualified as an electrician but then joined the Passionists in his early 20’s and made his 1st Religious Profession on 8th March 1964. He spent many years in Botswana as a Passionist Brother but in the mid-1970’s he decided to return home and study for priesthood. That meant we were students together in Dublin and during that time Lawrence was persuaded by his confreres to come out of sporting retirement to take up his position as a goalkeeper when we were struggling to put a team together for the Seminary League, and a fine goalkeeper he was too. He was the original Holy Goalie. Lawrence loved his football and especially he loved Glasgow Celtic. Before he joined the Passionists he had attended Celtic’s famous 7-1 victory over Rangers in the 1957 League Cup Final, and his account of that day was submitted and included in Pat Woods’ book recalling that memorable event, “Oh! Hampden in the Sun”.

During one of our Seminary League games in the late 1970’s, when Lawrence was in goals and I was playing Right Back, I took a knock on the leg making a pass-back and I shouted to him not to throw the ball back out to me. Unfortunately, he did, and I made a poor clearance from which the opposition scored. He was not a happy goalie. Forty years later I was driving from Bishopbriggs to St. Mungo’s with Lawrence in the passenger seat and, believe me, he was not a good passenger. Turning into Baird Street I made a manoeuvre which Lawrence didn’t appreciate. He turned to me with a glare and said to me through gritted teeth; “You’re as bad a driver as you were a Right Back” – some things are never forgotten. Of course, Lawrence himself was a notoriously slow driver. When Father Pat Rogers was in St. Mungo’s preaching the Novena of Hope in September 2017, Lawrence gave him a lift to the Passionist Retreat Centre at Minsteracres in County Durham where Pat was due to give a seminar. As Pat describes it; “It was a long, slow journey, for Larry was reluctant to bypass any other vehicle no matter how slowly it was travelling. It took me about six minutes to persuade him to pass a tractor, on a long, straight stretch of road, 30 miles East of Carlisle”.
Lawrence was diagnosed with an aggressive Cancer a few months after that, in December 2017. The next two years and more were an extraordinary journey of courage and determination. Time and again, just when you thought he had reached the end, he would somehow rally and say that he was fit for a Public Mass and could help with Confessions. He loved ministry because he loved people and he just wanted to keep getting back to it for as long as he was able, and the people were always delighted to see him reappear. His last appearances in St. Mungo’s were for Father Antony’s ordination and to concelebrate at one of Antony’s first Masses. In truth, he wasn’t able, but he was so determined to be there. His last outing was when Antony drove him down to Irvine to see his ailing sister, a much more mellow passenger at this stage. He saw her and came home, and his sister, Catherine, died the very next day, as if she had waited to see him before she let go. As I write, Catherine is still awaiting burial, and on Wednesday Lawrence passed away in the Marie Curie Hospice. RIP.
.

6 Comments

father frank's log...

3/7/2020

FATHER FRANK KEEVINS C.P.

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