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father frank's log...

31/1/2020

FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 26th JANUARY – 2nd FEBRUARY 2020
I am composing this week’s log on Brexit day. At 11 o’clock tonight the United Kingdom will leave the European Union, although in our house we are more concerned that midnight tonight is the end of transfer deadline day. At this time, I am involved in a series of meetings as we Passionists prepare for our Provincial Chapter next June. The Chapter takes place every four years and its primary purpose is to examine the life of the Province in our present reality, (the Province being Ireland and Scotland, as well as our English-speaking parish in Paris); confront any significant challenges or problems, and plan for the future, or at least for the next four years. The work of preparing for the Chapter is entrusted to a team of four, under the title of the Pre-Chapter Preparatory Commission (PCPC). This team is elected by the Province members, and both myself and Father Antony were among those elected, along with two others. It will be our task to consult the Province members; listen to their concerns; liaise with the Provincial and his Council; prepare the Chapter programme and agenda; receive and distribute reports and proposals; appoint and instruct a liturgy team, and make arrangements for the election of the Provincial and his Council. We do all this with the help of a facilitator.

It hardly seems like four years since our last Chapter which took place in June 2016. In a report I delivered to the Chapter as Provincial Bursar on the financial state of the Province, in a time of economic uncertainty, I assured the Province members that there wouldn’t be a leave vote for Brexit, and that Donald Trump would not be elected President of the USA. On the penultimate day of the Chapter, June 23rd, a leave vote for Brexit was delivered; and a few months later President Trump was elected. Even so, for some inexplicable reason, I was duly re-appointed Provincial Bursar – well, who else would be daft enough to take the job?

After the Chapter, the newly elected Provincial and his Council will consult and then take on the task of making the various appointments throughout the Province that they believe can deliver on the pastoral priorities set by the Chapter. Four years ago, after the Chapter had made a new commitment to developing the Passionist mission in Scotland, Father Gareth and I were approached about coming to St. Mungo’s to become the new parish team, and the rest, you might say, is history. We joined Father Justinian and Father Lawrence in the new community residence in Bishopbriggs and then, a year later, we were joined by Brother Antony, now Father Antony. I know I am truly blessed to have such a team, and blessed too in the welcome, support, affirmation and encouragement we have received from so many people who offer their service, or who simply choose to come to St. Mungo’s as their place of prayer and worship. It’s not perfect, nothing is, and throughout the past four years there have been lots of difficulties, struggles, disappointments and tears, in ours and in others’ lives, but still we journey on together, the Lord with us, and the Spirit guiding us, if we listen.

What will happen during this Provincial Chapter and afterwards? Only the Holy Spirit knows, and even the Holy Spirit might not be so sure in these confusing and challenging times. All I can say is, that if the Province members renewed their commitment to our Passionist presence and mission in Scotland last time around, then I have no doubt that they will do so even more enthusiastically this time around. There may be interesting times ahead. I would ask that you pray for us over these next few months, and to be assured that we are praying for you too. As the saying goes; for all that has been we say thank you, and for all that is to come we say yes.

Faithful to the charism of St Paul of the Cross, the Mission of the Passionists is to keep alive in the world the love of Jesus Crucified as seen in His Sacred Passion. This mission is rooted in prayerful community life and is expressed in collaborative ministry to the people of God in all walks of life especially to the poor and suffering. We seek the unity of our lives and our Apostolate in the Passion of Jesus. (Mission Statement of the Congregation of the Passion)

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father frank's log...

25/1/2020

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

Saturday of this week, January 25th, is the Feast of the Conversion of Saint Paul the Apostle, bringing to an end the Octave of Prayer for Christian Unity. It is also the day in Scotland when we celebrate the life and poetry of Robert Burns, this date being his birthday, which for many people will culminate in a Burns’ night or a Burns’ supper, which should involve eating copious amounts of haggis, piped in and addressed; washed down traditionally with Scotch whisky; although I’m sure Irn Bru is acceptable for the non-drinkers; then the recitation of some of our national bard’s best known verses, and the singing of some of his best known, and often very beautiful songs. I have been to a number of these in my time and always enjoyed them. Even during my years at Mount Argus in Dublin, the cook would go to great lengths to make sure that on this day there was haggis available for myself and anyone else who wished to try it, although the description of it as a sheep’s heart, liver, and lungs, minced with onion, oatmeal, suet and spices, and then cooked in the lining of the sheep’s stomach, was usually enough to put them off and leave it all for me – lovely! Perhaps the most memorable Burns’ supper I celebrated was while I was studying in Rome, back in the early 1990’s. I had been ordained a deacon in the Passionists’ mother house of Saints John & Paul on 10th December 1992, having successfully negotiated some oral exams in Scripture, Doctrine and Morals, conducted by a Swiss Redemptorist in the Basilica of Saint John Lateran a few weeks before, and then making my preparation retreat in the monastery of the Presentation of Our Lady, the first ever Passionist monastery, on Monte Argentario, which is on the west coast of Tuscany.

Throughout my formation for priesthood in Ireland and in Rome, I and my contemporaries were at an in-between stage with regard to studying the Code of Canon Law, which is the fundamental body of ecclesiastical laws for the Catholic Church. The original Code of Canon Law, promulgated in 1917, had been suspended to allow work on a new code, and so all through our studies we were working with provisional documents that had yet to be approved. However, the work now completed, the new Code of Canon Law was scheduled to be promulgated by Pope John Paul II on the night of 25th January 1983, Feast of the Conversion of Saint Paul the Apostle, at the Basilica of St. Paul’s Outside the Walls in Rome. Perhaps, as a conscientious student, I should have gone to that, but it was also Burns’ night, and I had received an invitation to join the students in the Scots College in Rome, on the Via Cassia, for a traditional Burns’ Supper. I had got to know some of the guys in the Scots College through meeting them at the Gregorian University where we were studying at the time. I used to go out to the college on an occasional Sunday where we would eat mince and tatties instead of pasta and watch recordings of Celtic games. They were a very welcoming bunch and I enjoyed those visits thoroughly, and so I found the invitation to the Burns’ Supper hard to resist. It was a great night altogether, everything was done as it should be, and I still hold the memory dear. Needless to say, I have studied the 1983 Code of Canon Law, also known as the Johanno-Pauline Code, very thoroughly since then to make up for it.

I have had a soft spot for Burns ever since I was presented with an illustrated book of his poetry, as well as an illustrated copy of Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island, for winning a poetry recitation competition at primary school at St. Peter’s in Partick back in the 1950’s. The poem I recited for my moment of glory wasn’t even a Burns’ poem, it was Walter Wingate’s The Sair Finger. However, I attribute my love of reading and my love of poetry, which I still bear to this day, to that long-ago happy experience. Among my favourite poetry is the Book of Psalms, and my favourite psalm is Psalm 121, which begins:

I lift up my eyes to the mountains; where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.

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father frank's log...

18/1/2020

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

On October 4th 1975, I arrived at Saint Gabriel’s Retreat, The Graan, in Enniskillen, to begin my Passionist Postulancy. I was 24 years of age. I arrived with a few items of luggage and a guitar. The guitar was a parting gift from my colleagues in the Accounts Department at Olivetti in Queenslie, where I had worked for the previous 5 years. It was a very nice guitar, a Yamaha FG 350, which at the time cost £100. I still have it 45 years later and it sounds as good as ever, although whether I sound as good as ever is another matter. Before entering the Passionists I had been part of a folk group that played various venues up and down the country. I’ve mentioned before that Billy Connolly was doing the rounds of the folk clubs at that time as well, and we regularly played on the same bill, always with him as top of the bill, and usually with us as the opening act in each half. I also got involved in liturgical music, post-Vatican II, both in my home parish of St. Laurence’s in Drumchapel, and on youth retreat weekends at the Passionist Retreat Centre at Coodham in Ayrshire.

I had hardly set a foot in the door at The Graan when the Rector suggested that I start a folk group in the church to engage the local young people. Also, my Postulancy Director had become heavily involved in Charismatic Renewal, which was massive in Ireland during the 1970’s and beyond, and he thought it would be a good idea to drag me around County Fermanagh three nights a week to play at various prayer groups. This was at the height of the troubles in Northern Ireland and here I was, bundled into the back of a car with my guitar, being driven up and down dark and lonely country roads at all hours of the night, to wherever a prayer group might be taking place. No wonder my mother never slept a wink that year.

In September 1976 I left The Graan to go to Mount Argus in Dublin to begin studies at the Milltown Institute of Theology and Philosophy, run by the Jesuits, in Ranelagh, a 20-minute cycle ride away. The Passionists had come to Mount Argus in 1856, but it had only become a parish in 1974. Once again, no sooner had I set foot inside the door, when the parish priest suggested that I start a folk group to engage the local young people. We put a notice in the parish newsletter to invite anyone who might be interested to a first practice, but we were a bit naïve in not being specific enough, and so the following Tuesday night 40 people turned up, from about 14 to 35 years of age and, such was the enthusiasm, that we didn’t want to turn anyone away, and so there began this very motley, musical crew, playing and singing at the 1.00 p.m. Sunday Mass. The 14-year old had as beautiful a voice as you would wish to hear. The 35-year old was a flautist and a father of three, with the patience of a saint, who became a mentor to the younger members, and a great support to myself.

After my ordination in 1983 I wasn’t involved in the group as I took up various roles in different places with the Passionists. But then, in January 2001, I returned to Mount Argus as rector and parish priest, only to find a remnant of the group still singing at the Vigil Mass. Initially, when I wasn’t celebrating the Vigil Mass, I would enjoy singing with them, until they found themselves without a guitarist, and I was drafted in to fill the gap until they found another. They never did, and so it was that I found myself part of the folk group once again, until I left Mount Argus in 2016 to come to St. Mungo’s, at which time the group was unable to continue, but could reflect on the accomplishment of 40 years of dedicated service to the liturgy. For the final few years there were only six of us, none of us what you would call young, but we loved to meet every Tuesday night, reflect on the Sunday scriptures, then choose and practice the music, becoming great friends in the process. During this time, we were led by that same 14-year old with the wonderful voice who had never faltered in her commitment to it for 40 years. Last Friday I travelled over to Dublin for an overnight to meet up with them for a reunion meal, and it was such a joy to see them. My Passionist life might have been very different without that guitar, but I will be ever grateful for it. Deo Gratias!

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Father Frank's Log...

9/1/2020

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

At the end of 1999, and the beginning of 2000, I welcomed in the New Year, and the New Millennium, at St. Gabriel’s Church Hall in Prestonpans, where I was parish priest at the time. A great number of parishioners gathered in the hall from 11.00 p.m. We celebrated a prayer service to take us up to midnight and, once the bells had rung, we celebrated in the traditional way. Shortly after that I was transferred to Dublin, and ever since then I have greeted the New Year in with family, initially at the house of my older brother and his wife, and then, in more recent years, at the house of the older of my two nieces.

Part of the thinking was that, seeing as how I was in Dublin and not able to be with the family around Christmas, this was the occasion when the clan could all gather and celebrate together, with me included, and, even though I am now back home in Scotland this past three Christmases, the tradition persists. Scotch broth and steak pie are consumed in abundance. Now, of course, there have to be vegetarian and vegan versions on offer as well. After dessert, glasses are filled, and we would normally head into another room to join Jackie Bird, Phil Cunningham and Ally Bain, and then the lone piper on Castle Mound in Edinburgh for the final reflective moments, before the bells and the fireworks resound, then hugs and handshakes and kisses to greet the year, and arms linked for Auld Lang Syne. Followers of this log may remember that last year, three beautiful desserts were dropped and left splattered on the pavement by my younger niece’s husband and, while the fault lay more with the bags than with him (or so he says), he wasn’t entrusted with the task this year, just in case.

The transition from 2019 to 2020 was, however, slightly different to previous years, and not just because there was no Jackie Bird. For many of the family 2019 had been a difficult year due to sickness and bereavement. For a variety of reasons some well kent faces were missing. Among those missing was my older niece’s brother-in-law, a fellow priest in the Archdiocese of Glasgow, who drew the short straw and was on call throughout the night for the Glasgow Royal Infirmary, I was lucky as I was on call on the 30th. Also missing was my younger brother who, after a lengthy period of sickness during the latter part of 2019, is, for the time being at least, housebound. This meant that, half an hour before the bells, I left the celebrations, and went to be with him to raise a glass of Irn Bru to greet 2020. In many ways I enjoyed the quieter crossing of the threshold as I had found 2019 quite difficult for myself. I was asleep on the couch by one o’clock, and up in the morning to head for St. Mungo’s to celebrate the Mass of Mary, Mother of God, always a beautiful way to start a year.

What had been a difficult year had ended on a good note anyway, with the successful and beautiful completion of the refurbishment in St. Mungo’s which, it would seem, people are delighted with; and also, the ordination of Father Antony Connelly. I was celebrating Mass in St. Roch’s the other day, and the lady who runs the repository there held up the latest edition of the Flourish, the Archdiocesan monthly newspaper, and said, “it shouldn’t be called the Flourish this month, it should be called the St. Mungo’s Gazette!” And true enough, there is ample coverage of both the refurbishment and the ordination for which we are grateful.

What 2020 will bring, nobody knows. 2019 was the 150th anniversary of St. Mungo’s Church, and 2020 is the 300th anniversary of the Passionists. The St. Mungo’s Jubilee brought many blessings, light dispelling darkness, and I have no doubt that the Passionist Jubilee will bring the same, and so I offer the same little poem extract I offered at this time last year:

I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year: “Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown.” And he replied: “Go out into the darkness, and put your hand into the Hand of God. That shall be to you better than any light, and safer than any known way.” So, I went forth, and finding the Hand of God, trod gladly into the night...

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father frank's log...

father frank's log...

father frank's log...

Father Frank's Log...

FATHER FRANK KEEVINS C.P.

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