PassionistsGlasgow
  • Welcome To Saint Mungo's
  • Parish Newsletter
  • Parish Office / Visiting Saint Mungo's
  • Passionists Young Team
  • Universalis Mass Readings for Today
  • Website Links
  • St.Paul of the Cross
  • St. Paul of the Cross for Children
  • St.Charles of Mount Argus
  • St Mungo Patron Saint of Glasgow
  • St. Mungo's Parish
  • Safeguarding (Updated Oct 24)
  • Photo Album
  • Archdiocese Privacy Notice
  • Father Franks Log
  • Fr Justinian CP (RIP)
  • Synodal Path
  • Pope Francis
  • Welcome To Saint Mungo's
  • Parish Newsletter
  • Parish Office / Visiting Saint Mungo's
  • Passionists Young Team
  • Universalis Mass Readings for Today
  • Website Links
  • St.Paul of the Cross
  • St. Paul of the Cross for Children
  • St.Charles of Mount Argus
  • St Mungo Patron Saint of Glasgow
  • St. Mungo's Parish
  • Safeguarding (Updated Oct 24)
  • Photo Album
  • Archdiocese Privacy Notice
  • Father Franks Log
  • Fr Justinian CP (RIP)
  • Synodal Path
  • Pope Francis
  PassionistsGlasgow

FATHER FRANK'S LOG...

28/6/2018

2 Comments

 
FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 24th JUNE – 1st JULY
​
It’s wonderful these days to be blessed with beautiful weather and there is no doubt that the sunshine lifts people’s spirits, and that’s a good thing. Having said that, I have to confess to being one of those unfortunates who, with vampire-like tendencies, has to avoid the sun at all costs, otherwise I will perish. A sunshine holiday would be a nightmare as, even here in Scotland, I splash on the 50+ children’s sun protection, and have to wear floppy hats with crystals in the rim to keep the rays of the sun away from the top of my rather bald head.
 
These precautions have been learned from bitter experience. My first ever trip abroad was when I was 18 years of age. Our curate in Drumchapel brought a group of us in a mini-bus across the channel and down through France where we stopped in various places and eventually ended up in Lourdes for a short pilgrimage. From there we travelled over the Pyrenees into Spain, to a camp site in Lloret de Mar, where we intended to spend a week before making the homeward journey. On the first day, after pitching our tents, we headed down to the beach. The sky was overcast so there didn’t look too much to worry about. However, that night, I found myself tossing and turning in my sleeping bag, unable to lie on my back, and eventually going to sit in the mini-bus. In the morning I discovered that my back was burnt and covered in blisters, the worst of which were on my shoulders and the size of golf balls. I spent the next three days only coming out at night until a group of Irish nurses, staying in the same camp site, heard of my plight and cured me by agonisingly rubbing gallons of vinegar into my back and shoulders which, despite the pain, did the trick.
 
My next experience was on the Isle of Barra where I went on holiday with friends for about six years running, meeting up with another friend who was teaching on the island. For most of those years the sun wasn’t something we had to worry about too much, except for one year, when the temperatures soared into the 80’s, and I got too much sun on the top of my head, suffering serious sun stroke in the process, with all the headaches, dizziness, light-headedness, cramps and nausea that go with it; certainly not a pleasant experience.
 
You would think that by then I had learned my lesson, but no, some years later I was on holiday on Achill Island, on the west coast of Ireland. One of the many beautiful bays there is called Keem Bay, famous for its basking sharks, and on a scorching sunny day I went for a gentle dip in the water. I’m not much of a swimmer so I didn’t stay in long. I went back to a sheltered area of the bay and covered every part of my body to sit awhile and read – every part except for my feet. This resulted in the most agonizing sunburn ever. My feet swelled up and there wasn’t much the local doctor could do. I ended up driving back to Dublin in flip-flops, from where I was due to fly home to Glasgow for my second week’s holiday. Still in my flip-flops I made it back to Drumchapel. Over the week a kindly cousin, who was a nurse, came in and tended to me each day. Even so, I was still wearing my flip-flops when, after the week at home, I travelled to Trosly in France where I had to meet with the wonderful and saintly Jean Vanier on behalf of a handicapped association I was involved with. It was an encounter I will never forget but it would have been better without the burnt feet. Hopefully the lessons have all been learned, at last, and I have finally got some sense.
 
The log will be taking a break now for July and August so that I can give my brain a rest – and enjoy the sunshine! Here are words from scripture, spoken to John the Baptist by his father, in praise of Christ, the Rising Sun: And you, my child, will be called a prophet of the Most-High; for you will go before the Lord to prepare the way for him, to give his people the knowledge of salvation through forgiveness of their sins, because of the tender mercy of our God, by which the Rising Sun will come to us from heaven, to shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the path of peace.”

2 Comments

FATHER FRANK'S LOG...

21/6/2018

1 Comment

 
FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 17th – 24th JUNE
​
This week began with the 35th anniversary of my ordination, which took place in St. Mungo’s on 18th June, 1983, and ends with my 67th birthday, which takes place on 24th June, the Feast of St. John the Baptist. When John the Baptist was born there was some bewilderment in the family as to why he was being called John, as no one else in the family had ever been called by that name. Of course, the reason was that the name had been given him by God, and there was no arguing with that.
 
When I was born on 24th June 1951, there might have been an excuse for wondering why I wasn’t called John, seeing as how it was the feast of the birth of one of the church’s greatest saints. Two of my best friends share the same birthday with me and both were named, and baptized John – well, Sean to be exact, but still named after the forerunner of Jesus. My family, however, followed the logic of John the Baptist’s family, and I was named Francis, after my father. My father was well over six feet tall and as skinny as a rake, whereas I never grew taller than five foot, seven inches and, beyond childhood years, skinny has never been a word that would describe me. We came to be referred to as big Frank and wee Frank until he passed away in 1960, when I was just eight years of age.
 
There are a number of Francis’s in the church’s calendar of saints but, as well as being named after my father, I was very definitely named after St. Francis of Assisi to whom there was great devotion in the family. I’m very happy to be named after Francis of Assisi as I have always been enamoured by his story, his simplicity, and his child-like spirit. I have visited Assisi a number of times and, while there are the magnificent Basilicas of St. Francis and St. Clare, I have always preferred walking down the hill in the early morning to the outskirts of the town and the little church of San Damiano, where there was the San Damiano cross from which Jesus reputedly spoke to Francis and asked him to restore His church. I have a copy of this cross hanging in my room. There is only a replica of the cross there now, the original being in the Basilica of St. Clare, Francis’s soul mate. San Damiano in fact became the first convent of St. Clare. I also loved climbing up the mountain to the Carceri where Francis used to go to spend long periods in solitude and contemplation. Another place I liked to visit was the Cathedral of San Ruffino in Assisi where the Passionist, St. Gabriel of Our Lady of Sorrows, was baptized in 1838. He was named and baptized Francis.
 
These are just a few of the wonderful places to visit in and around Assisi, and, when I think about it, I can find some hope in my sadness of last week when, for a second time in 4 years, the Glasgow School of Art was ravaged by fire, to remember the times when the Basilica of St. Francis has been severely damaged by earthquakes and each time it was somehow restored to its former magnificence. Maybe a prayer for the intercession of St. Francis would not go amiss in the hope that the School of Art can be restored to former glory as well.
 
I started by saying that my week began with my anniversary of ordination and ended in my birthday, but it might be truer to say that my week began with Father’s Day on 17th June. Father Lawrence; Father Justinian; Father Gareth and myself, were charmed and humbled by those who handed in cards and goodies to us for Father’s Day. It was a lovely gesture and much appreciated.  Let’s close with the Peace Prayer of St. Francis:
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace: where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy. O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand, to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive, it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen.

1 Comment

June 16th, 2018

16/6/2018

1 Comment

 
FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 10th – 17th JUNE

Recently I welcomed visitors from Ireland and, as we were still enjoying that blessed period of beautiful weather, we took a train journey to Largs for the day. The train wasn’t too crowded so it was a very relaxing trip, lasting just under an hour, during which I filled in some details for my friends of what I knew about the various stops along the way.
 
When we got to Saltcoats I got rather nostalgic as this was the holiday destination for the Keevins family throughout nearly all of my childhood years. I can remember the excitement when the period of the Glasgow Fair was getting nearer and the cases started being packed. Usually on Fair Saturday we would splash out on a taxi to bring us from Partick to St. Enoch’s Station where the steam train was waiting, belching out smoke, and the smells, the noises and the bustle of the station would increase our excitement. For those who are familiar with J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter, it was the nearest thing I can imagine to getting on the Hogwarts Express and heading off for an incredible adventure. We would climb aboard; father, mother and the three boys, find a carriage, and think that the time was never going to pass until the guard would close the doors, blow his whistle, and we would be on our way.
 
We would always stay in the same boarding house. The family that owned it had a huge Dalmatian which we called “spotty dog” and we would be looking forward so much to seeing it again and getting an excited waggly tail and slabbery tongue welcome. I’m sure the dog had a name but I couldn’t tell you what it was, to us it was just “spotty dog”. We would be on the beach every day, even when it was cold and windy, making sand castles and running in and out of the sea – none of us could swim. When I look back at the old photographs, in most of them we look frozen and windswept, but also happy and smiling. Even after our father died, while we were still young, we made the same trip with our mother, and there is always a poignancy in looking back at photographs where there were two parents, and then only one.
 
I can remember a bridge over the railway tracks and going through a period of trainspotting. I would stand on the bridge with my pencil and my jotter, waiting for the trains to pass underneath, and trying to jot down the number on the engine as it sped past. I can also remember the fish and chip shop near the boarding house from which, every night, we would bring back a carry-out of chips and a bowl of peas and vinegar. Heaven couldn’t be better. All too soon it would be time to return home again. After a while the memory would fade, until the Glasgow Fair came around once again, and we would start all over.
 
I left all that behind as I arrived with my visitors in Largs. I said to them later that I didn’t think anyone had ever taken longer to walk the short distance from the train station to the seafront as, before we caught sight of the water, we had stopped at just about every shop along the way where they bought sandals; coffee and cake; suntan lotion; a hat; a book, and fancy tissue paper. Once we did arrive at the seafront they were very impressed with the promenade. We sat for a while watching the ferry cross to and from Millport and then had a lovely stroll to the little lake at the end of the prom where men were sailing model yachts. We strolled back and of course had to have ice cream cones from Nardini’s, to which the seagulls also took a notion, but they didn’t bother us too much. There was more shopping before we got back to the train; two more pairs of sandals, quite a few golfing shirts, and I can’t remember what else. The serious shopping was still to come in Glasgow the following day, when I would mostly leave them to it, but, all in all, it was a really lovely day out.
 
It’s so important, from time to time, just to get away from the normal grind, and even a few hours away, at a different location, moving at a gentler pace, breathing fresher air, enjoying the smell and feel of the sea, can make such a difference. Jesus said to his disciples, `Come away with me. Let us go alone to a quiet place and rest for a while’.  How wise he was.

1 Comment

June 09th, 2018

9/6/2018

0 Comments

 
0 Comments

FATHER FRANK'S LOG...

2/6/2018

1 Comment

 
FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 27th MAY – 3rd JUNE
 
I spent the first four days of last week at our Passionist Retreat Centre at Crossgar, County Down, in Northern Ireland. The occasion was an assembly of our Passionist Province of St. Patrick, which includes Ireland, Scotland and, believe it or not Paris, France, where we run a parish for English speaking Catholics living in Paris. These could be Irish, Scottish, English, American, Sri Lankan, Filipino, just to name a few. The parish church, St. Joseph’s in Avenue Hoche, was in fact the place where Oscar Wilde was received into the church at the end of his life by the Passionist, Father Cuthbert Dunne CP. It was also the church recalled by the actor, Martin Sheen, of West Wing fame, where he knocked on the door asking for Confession as part of the journey that brought him back to the practice of his Catholic faith.
 
The reason for this assembly was that we had reached the halfway point between our last Provincial Chapter and the next. From 20-24 June 2016, we had gathered at Mount St Anne’s Retreat Centre in County Laois, Ireland, to review our life and mission. Our next Provincial Chapter will be in June 2020. At that previous Chapter, Father Jim Sweeney CP was elected as our first ever Scottish Provincial Superior, although his roots are in Falcarragh, County Donegal. He was ordained in St Mungo’s in December 1968. After the Chapter, Father Jim and his Council appointed Father Gareth and myself to St. Mungo’s, and later also appointed Brother Antony. At the assembly our intention was to look back on the priorities the Chapter had set and to review how they were being progressed.
 
At the time of the 2016 Provincial Chapter, one of my roles in the Province was as Provincial Bursar, in other words holding the purse strings. I had held this role since 2008. I think I fell into this role because I used to be an accountant, but it was such a totally different financial world back in the 1970’s to what it is now in the 2010’s, that my previous experience didn’t really help me a great deal; so, I think that my biggest asset was in being able to count without using my fingers and toes.
 
Being Provincial Bursar meant that I had to give a financial report to the Chapter, which I did on the very day of the Brexit vote. As part of my report I reflected that the two big unknowns moving forward were the outcome of the Brexit vote and its consequences, and also the outcome and consequences of the pending Presidential Election in the United States of America the following November. With swaggering confidence, I assured the Chapter members that Brexit would be a No vote, and that the American people would not elect Donald Trump as president. When I awoke on the final day of the Chapter, which also happened to be my birthday, I was in a state of shock to discover that there was a Yes vote to Brexit, and that shock would be compounded five months later when the American people did in fact elect Donald Trump. Perhaps even more surprising, I was reappointed as Provincial Bursar, a little bit like Simon Peter being told “you’re still the rock”. I had no financial report to give to the Assembly last week but I did give a report on how things were going in Scotland and Brother Antony gave a report on his work at the City of Glasgow College.
 
These gatherings have become important over the years from the point of view of meeting each other fraternally. There was a time when we had more religious and more houses and we would be moving around and meeting each other a lot more often. Now, as we have got older and fewer, we don’t see each other so much, and so these gatherings, as well as being vital from the perspective of reviewing our mission and planning forward, are now also vital from the perspective fraternity and friendship, joy and laughter, and with a healthy dose of nostalgia thrown in.
 
As a Provincial Bursar I always liked this stewardship prayer from St. Ignatius Loyola:
Oh Lord, giver of life and source of our freedom, we are reminded that Yours is “the
earth in its fullness; the world and those who dwell in it.” We know that it is from your
hand that we have received all we have and are and will be. Gracious and loving God,
we understand that you call us to be the stewards of Your abundance, the caretakers of
all you have entrusted to us. Help us always to use your gifts wisely and teach us to
share them generously. May our faithful stewardship bear witness to the love of Christ
in our lives. We pray this with grateful hearts in Jesus’ name. Amen.


1 Comment
    Picture

    FATHER FRANK KEEVINS C.P.

    Archives

    June 2025
    May 2025
    April 2025
    March 2025
    February 2025
    January 2025
    December 2024
    November 2024
    October 2024
    September 2024
    June 2024
    May 2024
    April 2024
    March 2024
    February 2024
    January 2024
    December 2023
    November 2023
    October 2023
    September 2023
    August 2023
    June 2023
    May 2023
    March 2023
    February 2023
    January 2023
    December 2022
    November 2022
    October 2022
    September 2022
    August 2022
    July 2022
    June 2022
    May 2022
    April 2022
    March 2022
    February 2022
    January 2022
    December 2021
    November 2021
    October 2021
    September 2021
    August 2021
    July 2021
    June 2021
    May 2021
    April 2021
    March 2021
    February 2021
    January 2021
    December 2020
    November 2020
    October 2020
    September 2020
    August 2020
    July 2020
    June 2020
    May 2020
    April 2020
    March 2020
    February 2020
    January 2020
    December 2019
    November 2019
    October 2019
    September 2019
    June 2019
    May 2019
    April 2019
    March 2019
    February 2019
    January 2019
    December 2018
    November 2018
    October 2018
    September 2018
    July 2018
    June 2018
    May 2018
    April 2018
    March 2018
    February 2018
    January 2018
    December 2017
    November 2017
    October 2017
    September 2017
    August 2017
    July 2017
    June 2017
    May 2017
    April 2017
    March 2017
    February 2017
    January 2017
    December 2016
    November 2016
    October 2016

    Categories

    All

    RSS Feed

Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.