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  PassionistsGlasgow

father frank's log...

28/5/2022

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FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 29th MAY – 5th JUNE 2022
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Last Sunday we celebrated the Mass of Enrolment, and began the Sacramental Preparations for children preparing for First Holy Communion. On that same day my grandnephew, the grandson of the doyen of Scottish Sports journalists, was making his First Holy Communion at St. Andrew’s in Bearsden. Needless to say, some memories were sparked of in my mind. The first was of my own First Holy Communion. I remember that day very clearly, which was, unbelievably, 65 years ago. I was a pupil at St. Peter’s Primary School in Partick at the time, and my First Holy Communion took place in St. Simon's in Partick, the parish in which I was born and grew up. I remember the black blazer and grey trousers I was wearing, white shirt, blue tie, ribbon in my lapel, and a blue sash across my chest, which was fit to burst with excitement and pride. I remember my hands joined in prayer and going up to receive for the first time from our kindly curate, Father Edward Kelly, who is still alive. After the Mass the children all went together to St. Simon’s Parish Hall, where we were served a communion breakfast of sausage and egg, and even though the sausage and egg were cold, it was still a very happy day. Afterwards I became an altar server in St. Simon’s and remained an altar server for the next six years, before the family moved away from Partick, out to Drumchapel, and to the parish of St. Laurence. Around that time, I began to commute each day from to St. Mungo’s Secondary School from Drumchapel, a long, two-bus journey, and I never did take up an altar server’s role in St. Laurence’s. Later in life, though, I became a priest, and here I am – but my faith journey goes on, as I hope and pray it does for these children this week.
 
The other memories sparked off were of my grandnephew. Firstly, celebrating the wedding of his parents, which also took place in St. Simon’s back in 2008. I was based in Mount Argus in Dublin at the time, and I sacrificed going to the World Youth Day in Australia with our parish youth group, so as to come home and celebrate the marriage. It had a rather panicky beginning as the parish priest, who had gone off on holiday and left us in the capable hands of his deacon, had managed to double book the church. This meant that when I arrived to get things ready, I encountered a group of Polish Catholics getting ready to celebrate Mass. While the Polish priest sympathised with the situation, there was no compromise to be made, and so, as Polish Masses tend not to be short affairs, our wedding party had to take shelter in local cafes and pubs to pass the time, while the bride, my lovely niece, had to make a tour of Glasgow in the wedding car so as not to arrive too early. After that, all went well, and we were able to thoroughly enjoy a lovely reception in the Oran Mor at the top of Byres Road.
 
If ever there was a woman who longed to be a mother it was my niece, and so the final memory was of the Baptism of my grandnephew. There had been years of heartache as she and her husband tried to have a child, and so, when her son was born, it was one of the most joyful days in family memory. I was still based in Dublin, but there was no way I would not come back home to celebrate my grandnephew’s Baptism, which was also celebrated in St. Simon’s. Since then, he has a wee brother, and it won’t be long until he makes his First Holy Communion as well. I suppose the final memory is a sad one. You can see clearly how, as a family, we tried to maintain a connection with St. Simon’s Church, the cradle of our faith, and so, to think of that church being burned to the ground, never to rise again, brings great heartache to all of us, but the memories will never fade. And so, my thoughts and prayers are will all the children, from any and every parish, who are making First Holy Communion at this time. It’s a very special moment. Receive the Lord as often and as fervently as you can.


So, as always, protect yourselves, protect your loved ones, and protect Christ in your lives.
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father frank's log...

21/5/2022

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FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 22nd – 29th MAY 2022
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This coming week will see the 21st anniversary of my mother’s death. She died on the 27th of May 2001. I was rector and parish priest of Mount Argus in Dublin at the time. I had only taken up those roles the previous January, transferring from St. Gabriel’s in Prestonpans, where I had spent the previous five years. So, having been able to see my mother regularly when I was based in Prestonpans, I didn’t see her at all in the five months before her death, and to this day I find that difficult. It was a Sunday, and in Ireland it was the Solemnity of the Ascension, unlike in Scotland, where the Ascension is still celebrated on the Thursday, as it will be this week, more appropriately I think, being 40 days after the Resurrection. I had just finished celebrating the 12 o’clock Mass at which, ironically, there were surprise visitors from Prestonpans. It was while I was chatting with them that I was called to the phone. It was my younger brother, who lived with my mum, telling me he had found mum dead on the floor that morning, having earlier brought her a cup of tea in bed. It was then a case of getting the first possible flight back to Glasgow, being with the family, and preparing for the funeral. It was also just a few weeks before my 50th birthday, and so celebrations planned in Dublin and Glasgow were cancelled. I wasn’t too concerned about that as I wasn’t looking forward to fuss, and to being the centre of attention at big gatherings of family and friends. I much prefer more subdued celebrations. My mother was cremated, and later on I would return to bury her ashes, in alongside my father at St. Kentigern’s, with just my two brothers present.
 
The grave is very simple, and whenever I have a funeral to St. Kentigern’s, or to the Glasgow Crematorium, or to Lambhill, all part of the same complex, I take the opportunity to visit the grave and say a prayer, even though I know they are not there, except as dust and ashes, and that their souls are in and with God. The fact that she died on the Solemnity of the Ascension brings with it great hope and consolation, trusting in the Risen Lord who has gone to prepare a place for us, so that we may be with Him where he is, and that is what I truly believe.
 
People treat graves in very different ways. Some are constantly kept festooned with flowers and decorations, others are simply kept tidy, or not tended at all. I read recently of a grave in Dublin that has a juke box installed which constantly plays out music by a well-known Irish balladeer. Children’s graves often, poignantly, have all kinds of toys on display. In good weather I have seen families and friends bringing chairs and sitting around a grave having a picnic. I attended a ceremony in Warsaw where, on All Saints Day, lit lamps were placed on every grave. For some people, it’s important to have that physical point of contact, to have somewhere to go that can make the loved one seem physically close and, even though I don’t particularly feel that need myself, still I am grateful for the opportunities to make those visits.
I sometimes, on those same occasions, pay a visit to our Passionist graves in St. Kentigern’s, in two separate locations, old and new, which are both very near to my parents’ grave.
 
Father John has returned from India and has resumed his church ministry. Where Father Gareth would have returned with a suitcase full of chocolate, Father John has returned with two suitcases full of Indian pickles – mango, lime, chilli, tamarind-ginger etc, assorted nuts and Indian spices – cardamon; turmeric; coriander; cumin etc., obviously intending to take more seriously the ministry of cooking as a service to the community. To date he hasn’t been very impressed with Indian food we’ve ordered in, or got from the supermarket, and feels he can do much better, even though he says he has never really cooked in his life before. So, it seems we are the guinea pigs. I will keep you posted on how it goes. But still, I’m not giving up on the fish and chips just yet, and I will keep the Rennies and the Gaviscon close to hand
.

So, as always, protect yourselves, protect your loved ones, and protect Christ in your lives.
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FATHER FRANK'S LOG...

13/5/2022

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FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 15th – 22nd MAY 2022
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A couple of weeks ago I was asked to give an interview to the Scottish Catholic Magazine. It was in connection with a series called “A History of Scotland in 100 Parishes”, and they wanted to do a feature on St. Mungo’s. The interview was over the phone and lasted about half an hour. In the course of the conversation, we went off on a number of tangents that the interviewer found quite interesting.  One had to do with why the old parochial house is called St. Mungo’s Retreat. I know that can be a bit confusing, and every now and again I receive phone calls, emails, or letters from people asking if they can book in to make a retreat. But it’s not a Retreat House in that sense.
 
It goes back to when the Passionists were first founded by St. Paul of the Cross in the 18th century. The Passionists were a prime example of what is often referred to as the mixed life, in other words, embracing a model of religious life that is a mixture of both the contemplative and the active. In the founder’s mind, if there were a community of twelve Passionists, then he envisaged that for an extended period of time, six of them would go out from the Retreat on apostolic activity, primarily as itinerant preachers, giving missions, especially in the most deprived areas of the country, and teaching people how to meditate on the Passion of Our Lord as a work of infinite love. While those six were out on the apostolate, the six at home would be living an intense contemplative life, finding their identity at the foot of the Cross, allowing the Passion of Our Lord to deeply touch their lives because, if it did not touch their lives, then, according to the founder, they would have no right to preach it to anyone else. When the time came, the six out on mission would return, in other words they would retreat back to the monastery. It would then be their turn to live that intense contemplative life, while the other six took their turn going out on mission, having been nourished for the task by their intense, extended period of contemplation at the foot of the cross.
 
In truth, it never quite worked out that way in practice, but still, to this day, we Passionists have a strong contemplative dimension to our lives. We are not monks, but we do try and take the monastic dimension of our lives seriously. In some places throughout the world, it is much more pronounced than others. When I read the article in the Scottish Catholic which, for the most part, was true to our conversation, I thought it may have given the impression that we were still trying to live according to that idealised 18th century model of St. Paul of the Cross here in Glasgow but, unfortunately, that would not be realistic. It also suggested we were back to the old schedule of Confessions, but, for the foreseeable future, we are still on our revised schedule. The Sacrament of Reconciliation, however, is considered a vital part of our ministry of compassion, and an expression of that infinite love and mercy of God that flows from the Cross. Accurate information on Confession times is only to be found on our parish website, and on various places where it is posted outside and inside the church.
 
There is always a risk in giving interviews. The editorial process always seems to make it read differently from what you remember actually saying. I was thinking of this last weekend when Fr. Antony, recently appointed as Vocations Director for the Passionists in Scotland, 
England and Wales, was speaking at all the Masses in St. Mungo’s for the World Day of Prayer for Vocations. Back in the 1984, when I myself was Vocations Director in Scotland, I contacted the Scottish Catholic Observer to insert an ad in the paper for a feature they were doing for Vocations Sunday. When the paper came out that week, they had inserted my name as Father Kevin Keegan CP. Kevin Keegan, a very famous footballer, was at that time seeing out his career with Newcastle United. Perhaps if I had just left it, I might have engendered more interest in the Passionist Vocation. At present we await Fr. John Varghese’s return from India next Tuesday, when he will at last have a chance to fully settle in to his ministry.


 So, as always, protect yourselves, protect your loved ones, and protect Christ in your lives.
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father frank's log...

5/5/2022

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​
FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 8th – 15th MAY 2022

It’s good to be making a return to the Log this week, although I must say I was glad of the short break as well. My energies were low after my Covid isolation, and as our return to the church came just in time for Holy Week, there was little opportunity to ease in gently. It also meant that Father John, who was at last able to begin ministry in St. Mungo’s, had a baptism of fire. Leading up to Holy Week, Father John, Father Antony and I, sat around the table at home to cast lots. The reason was that on Holy Thursday night in St. Mungo’s we usually have a Holy Hour at the Garden of Repose with a series of short reflections on the experience of Jesus in Gethsemane. Also, on Good Friday Night, as Passionists, we traditionally preach the Seven Last Words of Jesus from the Cross. I wrote out the themes for the Holy Thursday reflections, and for the Seven Last Words, on pieces of paper, folded over twice, and put them into separate containers. We then, each in turn, had to draw out pieces of paper from the containers to discover which reflection we had to give, and which words from the Cross we had to preach on. It seemed to be a fair and transparent way to do it, and it created a bit of light-hearted drama as well, but Father John was in a bit of a panic, especially as I had also appointed him to lead the Good Friday Service. We advised Father John that, because of the long Gospel on Good Friday, he should keep his homily short. He was surprised at this as, in India, he said, this must be, by far, the longest sermon of the year. Not in Scotland, friend!
 
It was also a baptism of fire for Father John, in that more people than ever seemed to avail of the Sacrament of Reconciliation during Holy Week. We had factored in some extra times for Confession, and just about every session ran well over time, leaving us fairly exhausted at the end of it, but at the same time feeling it had been very worthwhile. It was great, too, that the main Holy Week ceremonies, the Sacred Triduum, were just about back to normal. On Holy Thursday, at the Mass of the Last Supper, with Father Antony as the main celebrant, we were able to incorporate the Mandatum, the Washing of Feet. We had no problem getting 12 good people to volunteer, but I noticed that a few of them winced a bit as the water seemed to be warmer than expected. It reminded me of when Father Gareth was doing baptisms. He would set up the font after the 12 o’clock Mass and there would be steam rising from the font. I would panic, of course, and say that he couldn’t pour water that hot over a wee baby’s head, but he always said it would be fine by the time the service started. Thankfully, he was right.
 
On Good Friday we were able to venerate the Cross, even if we couldn’t kiss or touch, but it remains one of the most moving experiences of the year for me as young and old, and even babes in arms, come forward and adore this most overwhelming expression of God’s love for us, revealed in the Cross of Christ. At the Easter Vigil we had also restored the Service of Light at the beginning, with people holding lighted candles for the singing of the Exsultet, and then later for the renewal of Baptismal promises. Of course, there are still things we can’t do, like Holy Communion under both species, but we are getting there, thank God.
 
As indicated in the last Log before the break, on Easter Tuesday, Father John returned home to India to participate in his Province Chapter, to make a retreat, and to visit family. There was a late panic as his flight to London, the first stage of the journey, was cancelled, but he managed to get another flight. With Father Antony having to be away on other duties, Father Frank Trias has been thankfully helping out again. Father Justinian enjoyed a visit from old friends from Germany, whom he had met in Taize 40 years ago. I am plodding on.

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

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    FATHER FRANK KEEVINS C.P.

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