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  PassionistsGlasgow

father frank's log...

28/5/2020

1 Comment

 
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.


1 Comment

father frank's log...

21/5/2020

1 Comment

 
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.

1 Comment

Father Frank's Log...

14/5/2020

1 Comment

 
.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.

1 Comment

father frank's log...

7/5/2020

3 Comments

 
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.

3 Comments
    Picture

    FATHER FRANK KEEVINS C.P.

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