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  • Father Franks Log
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  PassionistsGlasgow

father frank's log...

29/1/2022

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FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 23rd – 30th JANUARY 2022

On the 6th of October 2016, I moved into the Passionist Community house in Bishopbriggs. Now, you might imagine that, as the newly appointed parish priest, and the incoming rector of the community, there might have been some slight privileges involved. However, the words of Jesus held sway, that the first shall be last, and the greatest shall be least, and so it was that I ended up with the smallest room in the house, and the only one in the community not to have an en suite bedroom. I was also the only one to have a single bed, rather than a double, but that was just as well, as there wouldn’t have been enough space for anything any bigger. The inherited furniture in the room took up all the available space and, every now and again, since then, I have looked at it and wondered if there was any possible way that I could shift things around, and organize the furniture in a different way, but it just never looked as if it was a runner, everything seemed to be in the only space that suited it, and where it fitted.
 
But then, at 9.10 p.m. last Friday, after a tandoori special from the local Indian restaurant, I decided that enough was enough. I needed to freshen my mind and get a new perspective on things. Around that time, Father Antony came out of his room and found me standing still at an open door, and wondered if I was okay, or if I was perhaps going a bit odd. But no, I was gazing into my room with the intense eye of a spatial engineer, trying to formulate a plan. I think I knew, even before I began, that half way into the task, I would be asking myself what madness made me do this. And so it was, I took drawers out of two tallboys, one of which was much bigger and heavier than the other, and managed to manoeuvre them into a different place. I then had to relocate a very heavy recliner chair that had been gifted to me by Father Justinian’s late brother. I shifted my desk to a more central position at the window, and moved a couple of smaller items to different locations. There was a bookcase and a CD rack that had to remain as they were, no other space was possible. All of this was to try and enable a new position for my bed, also very heavy, as it had storage drawers underneath. Until now, the bed had been tucked away neatly in a corner of the room. Now, however, I humped it into a central position, coming out from the back wall towards me as I enter the room. The best I can say about it, is that it is different, but I do have be a bit of a limbo dancer to get from one item of furniture to another, now that they are no longer in their optimal space.
 
Around 11.30 p.m., when I was just about getting there, I applied myself to the task of putting the drawers back into the tallboys. Needless to say, some of them slid in easily, while others resisted. By now, utterly exhausted, I resigned myself to two of the drawers sticking out a bit. I finished up by putting on new bed linen, having a shower, and donning fresh pyjamas. My last thought was that I was actually too old now for this kind of exertion, and, as if to affirm this, later in the week, the local health centre phoned me to offer me a shingles vaccination. Why, I asked, seeing as how I had never been offered such a thing before, or had any trouble with shingles? To which I was informed, that this is only offered to people between 70 and 79. Oh joy! How true it is that old age doesn’t come on its own. At least, when I have aged yet another three years, I won’t need to take the bowel screening test.
 
Anyway, the job is done, my room is reorganised, I have a new perspective on things, and I am getting more used to it by the day. In fact, I think I’ve done an okay job, so long as I don’t look at the sticky-out drawers. And I can tell you, I won’t be shifting it back again in a hurry.

As ever, protect yourselves, protect your loved ones and others, and protect Christ in your lives

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father frank's log...

22/1/2022

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FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 16th – 23rd JANUARY
​

At the end of the Log last week, I mentioned that I would be attending the 1st Anniversary Mass in St. Andrew’s Cathedral for the late Archbishop Tartaglia, which would also be the diocesan celebration for the Feast of St. Mungo. It was a very cold night, but I decided to wrap up warm, leave the car at the church, and walk down to the cathedral. I enjoyed the walk, the sharp cold clearing a few cobwebs from my head. It didn’t clear all the cobwebs, however, as, when I arrived at the cathedral, I met a masked clergyman coming out, who kindly informed me that we were to vest for the Mass in the curial offices. As we walked the short distance together, I innocently said to him, “Sorry, you’ll need to remind me who you are”. It turned out he was a rather well-known bishop. I was quite relieved then when, as we approached the curial offices, the Chancellor of the Archdiocese met us and remarked on how difficult it was to recognise people behind their masks. I was equally relieved that, once we were inside, the bishop was directed to the dining room to vest with the other bishops, while I was directed to Eyre Hall to vest with the other priests, as that gave my embarrassment a space to dissipate.
 
It brought to mind a previous occasion in Dublin, when I was amongst the invited guests at the consecration and dedication of a Russian Orthodox Church near to Mount Argus, where I was rector and parish priest at the time. I was placed near to the altar. To my left was a Church of Ireland bishop whom I recognised and greeted, and to my right was an impressive looking clergyman whom I didn’t recognise. I produced what must be my stock phrase in such situations, “Sorry, you’ll need to remind me who you are”. He turned out to be the Papal Nuncio, and this time I didn’t have the excuse that he was wearing a mask.
 
Returning to the cathedral, I can’t remember the last time I was in such a gathering, so it was good to see some of the clergy whom I knew, and to be able to catch up on how we were all doing. There was an air of poignancy as this was the first occasion on which we had been able to mourn this good man’s passing together. Archbishop Conti was the main celebrant. He spoke nicely about Archbishop Phillip, his predecessor, and also about St. Mungo. The prayers for the Mass of St. Mungo refer to him by what was his proper name, Kentigern, and I couldn’t help but notice that, every time Archbishop Conti spoke the name Kentigern, he pronounced it with a soft “g”; while, at the Prayers of the Faithful, the deacon pronounced it with a hard “g”. My own inclination would be towards the hard “g”, but then, when I started out at St. Mungo’s Secondary in 1963, at the Duke Street Annexe, called St. Kentigern’s, if memory serves me well, we pronounced it with a soft “g”. Any thoughts out there?
 
When the Mass was over, we didn’t hang around. On the way out I spoke to a fellow priest whom I did recognise, even with his mask. But then, a few days later, he sent me an email, apologising for not having recognised me – so that made me feel a whole lot better. I walked back to the church and picked up the car. On the way home, not having eaten, I stopped off at one of the local chippers in Bishopbriggs, called Frank’s, no bias intended, and got myself a small fish supper. I went back to the house, made a big mug of tea, lashed the butter on thick to two slices of soft white bread, and had a feast, reminding myself to take my cholesterol tablet before going to bed. It wasn’t quite the celebratory meal we would have had in years gone by for the Feast of St. Mungo, but I enjoyed it immensely. Fathers Justinian and Antony are well; Father John still waits patiently in Ardoyne, and Father Gareth sends his regards.


As ever, protect yourselves, protect your loved ones and others, and protect Christ in your lives.
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father frank's log...

15/1/2022

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FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 9th – 16th JANUARY
​
As I was trying to sum up the energy to resume the log, I received, from an anonymous reader, a very nice comment of appreciation, and that was the only encouragement I needed. It’s amazing how just a small, affirming word can go a long way. In this log I will just try and fill you in on events that have been happening since you last heard from me, before Christmas.

Thankful that we were not burdened by any further Covid/Omicron restrictions on public worship, we were able to celebrate in St. Mungo’s the four Masses of Christmas: The Vigil; the Midnight Mass of the Nativity; the Dawn and the Day Masses. As well as each Christmas Mass having its own prayers and readings, each also has its own atmosphere, and they were all very special. I confess, however, that while we were able to celebrate the Midnight Mass at midnight; we did not celebrate the Dawn Mass at dawn, and instead celebrated it at 10 a.m. - a couple of hours after dawn. With Christmas Day being a Saturday, Christmas Eve very quickly transitioned into Christmas day and then into Sunday, the Feast of the Holy Family. There was no time to catch breath, which myself and Father Antony could have done with as we had been very busy with Confessions on the lead up to Christmas. After the four Masses of Christmas, Father Antony had a further Mass in the afternoon, along with Deacon Joe, on board a cruise ship, while I went home to exchange gifts with my younger brother, before he had his Christmas dinner delivered by my older brother and his clan. It was night time, then, before we settled down in Bishopbriggs to our Christmas dinner which we all thoroughly enjoyed. In the morning time Father Justinian had been visited by a few of his family members and had celebrated Christmas Mass with them in the house. He was supposed to go with family the following week, to see in the New Year at the house of his brother and sister-in-law in Troon. Unfortunately, Covid put a stop to that. It also put a stop to the traditional Keevins’ family gathering at the home of one of my nieces to see in the New Year. As it turned out, all three of us in Bishopbriggs were in bed before midnight with, as at Christmas, Hogmanay transitioning into Ne’erday and then into Epiphany Sunday – it was all very exhausting! On New Year’s night we had our traditional steak pie dinner – but with no sausages in it this time, after the controversy that the sausages had stirred up last year.

We had a little bit of drama early in the year when, as Father Antony was celebrating the 12.15 p.m. Mass, an intruder brazenly made his way into the church and sacristy and robbed some money from one of the SVDP boxes which was waiting to be counted after the weekend. Poor Father Antony watched helplessly as the intruder emerged, genuflected and blessed himself at the back of the church, and made his way out again. I don’t think he signed in! With both of us having been to Les Miserable just before Christmas, I said to Father Antony that, if the police caught him and brought him back, we would need to give him the candlesticks as well. (If that is lost on you, one of the key scenes in Les Mis is when the bishop does something very similar to the main character, and it is this act of mercy and compassion that changes his life). We were not the only church that this intruder robbed during those days, but we are grateful to a prominent Celtic supporters’ group for giving a donation to the SVDP to compensate. The policeman who came to check our CCTV, having thought he was being called to the cathedral, was very taken by the beauty of St. Mungo’s. 

A further bit of drama was last Friday when the snow came. Father Antony left the house at 8.15 a.m. but, due to crazy traffic, didn’t get in to start the 10 a.m. Mass until 10.15 a.m. I, myself, left the house at 8.30 a.m. and at 10 a.m. I was still in Bishopbriggs, so I just turned back and left Fr. Antony to say the 12.15 p.m. Mass as well. Thankfully, the snow didn’t last, and things were back to normal on the following day. Since then, we have had the 40 Hours, which was very beautiful and prayerful, and today, as I write, we are celebrating the Feast of St. Mungo. The children from St. Mungo’s primary have joined us for the 10 a.m. Mass. Later, when I go up to see my younger brother for whom I am carer, I will bring him a gift as today is his birthday. Today is also the 1st Anniversary of the sad and untimely death of Archbishop Tartaglia, and I will be concelebrating a Mass for him in the cathedral later on, as we were unable to do that for his Requiem Mass last year due to Covid. May his good soul rest in peace. I am still waiting to catch my breath – hopefully next week.
​
Meantime, protect yourselves, protect your loved ones and others, and protect Christ in your lives.
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    Picture

    FATHER FRANK KEEVINS C.P.

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