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  PassionistsGlasgow

father frank's log...

26/6/2020

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FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 21st – 28th JUNE  2020
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Last Sunday I headed out for my walk – which I have to confess I am not doing as regularly as I had been. Usually, when I head out, I have no particular direction or route in mind, I just like to go where my instinct leads me. Sometimes this can lead to losing my way, and an intended one-hour walk can easily turn into two hours, and this was certainly the case on this occasion. Happy as I am for golfers having been able to return to their favourite pastime, I am missing Cadder Golf Course as a place of many walking possibilities, and so my instinct took me in another direction altogether, firstly through the wooded area at the back of our estate. This wooded area is protected because of a rare breed of frogs residing in the pond behind our house. However, I would suggest, there is now another reason why this area must be protected. As I meandered along the path, clambering over fallen logs, and ducking under overhanging branches, I saw a notice nailed to a tree that I am sure wasn’t there the last time I took this path. The notice said “Fairies live here”, and, sure enough, as I continued my walk, I came upon some very excited children, meandering with their parents, who were searching for little fairy doors on some of the trees, where no doubt these fairies dwelt. Not wanting to disturb them, or to scare the fairies away, I left them to it, and continued on my way.
 
Leaving the woods, I made my way towards Low Moss, and cut across an open grassy area which, on most of the paths, comes to a halt at a small burn, ditched on either side, a hundred metres or so from Low Moss prison walls. This is where, on previous occasions, I have turned back, but, on the path I had taken this time, I came upon a little wooden bridge that let me cross the burn, and follow a path along the perimeter of the prison walls and into another wooded area, much more extensive than the area behind our house where the fairies live. I always believe that, if there is a path, it must lead somewhere, and I thought that this path must surely bring me out somewhere that would mean I didn’t need to retrace the way I had come, which I never like having to do. At times, however, the path was very indistinct, but I kept going anyway. Leaving the prison walls behind, I found myself walking beside the perimeter fence of one of the units in the industrial estate where some socially distanced workers were stacking pallets. I thought I had hit a dead end when, out of the blue, I saw some people coming towards me walking their dogs. I made a space to let them by and asked them if this path would lead me out on to the road again, and they said it would, but, as this was their first time on this path, they asked me where it would bring them in the direction I had come from. Having exchanged information, we each continued on our way. Half an hour later I still hadn’t come out onto the road, and I came to a point that was definitely familiar to me, meaning that, somehow, I had managed to walk in circles and gotten nowhere. I ended up doing what I hadn’t wanted to do, and retraced my steps. On the way I met my earlier friends retracing their steps too, so obviously they hadn’t found their way out by the way I came either. On another day I will walk that way again and discover where I went wrong. I re-entered the woods at our estate to get back home. By now it was raining quite heavily, and so the children with their parents had sensibly disappeared. That left the coast clear for me to search for the fairy doors myself, of which I found many. How exciting!
 
Other than that, we opened the church on Wednesday for personal prayer and Confessions, and will do the same on Saturday and Sunday. There was a lovely, prayerful atmosphere, with the Blessed sacrament exposed and candles lighting; and everyone (well almost, there’s always one awkward customer) was happy to abide by the protocols, just glad to be back in St. Mungo’s. As it was a beautiful day there was no problem with leaving the doors open for easy entry and exit. It was so good to see people we hadn’t seen in such a while, and we look forward to repeating the same for the next couple of weeks, and then gradually increasing the number of days and hours until we get back to normal, or at least to the new normal. Praise the Lord! Meantime, protect yourselves and your loved ones, and protect Christ in your lives.


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father frank's log...

19/6/2020

3 Comments

 
FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 14th – 21st JUNE  2020
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At the time of writing, today is the 37th anniversary of my ordination as a Passionist priest, which took place in St. Mungo’s on the 18th of June, 1983. It was my mother’s 64th birthday so, if she had still been alive, she would have been 101 today. I was ordained by Cardinal Thomas Winning, and I remember he made a bigger fuss of my mother on the day than he did of me, which I must confess, as someone who dislikes being fussed over, I was very happy about. Since then, I have spent 3 years in St. Mungo’s as an itinerant preacher and Vocations Director; 6 years in Dublin as a Formation Director; 2 years in the North of England, and one year in County Sligo, in the West of Ireland, as Novice Master for the Passionists of North Europe. For one year, when there were no novices, I was sent to South Africa and Botswana, and engaged in a variety of parish, preaching and formation roles. I then spent 5 years in Prestonpans, in East Lothian, and 14 years in Dublin, as a Rector and Parish Priest, with a further two years in the midst of that doing itinerant preaching to promote devotion to our, at that time, newly canonized saint, St. Charles of Mount Argus; and I have now spent 4 years back in St. Mungo’s, again as Rector and Parish Priest. I am hoping that adds up to 37. Those were the main roles I was appointed to, but, throughout that time, I have also served on our Provincial Council; given many preached and directed retreats; and I have been Provincial Bursar for more years than I care to remember. Next Wednesday I will be 69 years of age.
 
Within that there have been, naturally, a whole variety of experiences and challenges; highs and lows; triumphs and failures; joys and sorrows; heart warmings and heartaches, struggles and surprises, laughter and tears – just an ordinary life really; and, while I wouldn’t necessarily say I am still going strong, at least I am still going, and I think I have the health and the hope and the enthusiasm to keep going for a bit longer yet, with whatever I can offer. This present time, however, is about the strangest time I have gone through as a priest in these past 37 years. Churches closed, celebrating Mass online with a virtual congregation; unable to hear Confessions, or visit the sick and housebound; unable to celebrate baptisms or weddings, or to hold a proper requiem for the deceased - and still it goes on. Again, as I write, I am waiting to hear what our First Minister has to say about easing restrictions and where that will take us. But, while I long for Mass to return to our churches, I can’t say I am looking forward to putting on a mask to distribute Holy Communion, to communicants who will also have to wear masks, receive in the hand, step to the side, remove their masks, consume the host, and then replace their masks to return to their place. No doubt God is in all of this, as God is in all things, and, by the grace of the Holy Spirit, we will find a way forward, and come to know the meaning, the learning, and the grace that is contained within.
 
If it has been strange for me, then it has been strange for the other members of my Passionist Community as well. Two days ago, on the 16th of June, Father Antony celebrated the 1st anniversary of his Final Profession as a Passionist and he is now almost 6 months into his priesthood. How could he possibly have envisaged how these first months would unfold? Has Father Justinian ever experienced anything like this in his 60+ years as a Passionist Priest? As for Father Gareth, the strangeness of the experience for him has been compounded by spending all of lock down with his isolated and shielded mum in Wales. The other day a letter arrived for me, and I recognized the spidery writing on the envelope as being Father Gareth’s. Inside, however, the letter had been written by his mum, thanking me for allowing her big son to be with her at this time, and saying how much that meant to her; as well as the blessing and the privilege of having her son celebrate Holy Mass in her humble home each day. Her heart was reaching out to all who had suffered and who weren’t so blessed as her during this time. We miss Father Gareth greatly, but he is where he is meant to be, by God’s providence. When God wills, he will be back, and we’ll all be back, with songs to sing, and tales to tell. Meantime, protect yourselves and your loved ones, and protect Christ in your lives.


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June 11th, 2020

11/6/2020

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FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 7th – 14th JUNE  2020
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On Monday of this week I had to conduct a funeral at the Linn Crematorium. I wasn’t too sure of the way so I Googled an AA route plan and left early to give myself time to get lost, and then to find my way again, as I often do. I suppose I should get myself a Satnav but, as I have said before, I am a bit of a luddite and prefer to take my chances. I always think getting lost and finding the way again is a good metaphor for life. Despite the fact that part of the route suggested by the AA was now a new road layout, which confused me for a little while, I arrived at the Linn about fifty minutes too early. You may have read my Log a few weeks ago when I arrived early at St. Conval’s cemetery for a burial and unexpectedly came upon the grave of my godmother, well this time I was a man on a mission. The last time I was in the Linn was when I travelled home from Dublin in 2012 to conduct a service for my niece’s stillborn child. She now has two lovely boys but at the time she and her husband had been longing for a child and they were distraught when the baby died, and we all felt for them so much. With time to spare, and the sun shining, I crossed the road from the crematorium to the cemetery and went in search of the section that was reserved for babies and stillborn children. It didn’t seem to be signposted, and it’s a very big cemetery, but I felt that I would find the wee one’s grave if I was meant to, and so I did. I spent a while in prayer, feeling quite emotional, then made my way back to the crematorium, still in time for the task in hand.
 
Prior to leaving for the Linn, someone had suggested an alternative route, avoiding the motorway, and so, on the way back, when I spotted a sign for City Centre/Gorbals, I realised this was the way I could have taken, and so I decided to give it a homeward try. It turned out a much better route except that, at one point, when I came to a fork in the road, I veered left when I should have veered right. I quickly spotted a short section of road that linked the two sides of the V, and so I made a right turn to get back on track. Immediately I spotted that the arrows on the road were pointing towards me and that I was, in fact, driving the wrong way along a one-way street. In that moment I was grateful for quiet lock-down traffic and was able to take swift remedial action. It wouldn’t have happened if I had Satnav! Yet another metaphor for life, sometimes we are going in the wrong direction and need to turn around.
Father Justinian came home last Friday as expected, and seems to feel a wee bit better with every passing day, although he is very tired. The carers are coming in each day, as have family members who live within striking distance. The Ayrshire clan are just too far away, and of an age that makes it impossible for them to travel within the current restrictions. However, Father Justinian is a great man for Face-Time and other such means of communication, far better than I am, and so he keeps touch that way, not just with Ayrshire, but with his two sisters in America, and friends in other parts of the world. Fair play to him. Nothing new from Father Gareth, but Father Antony received a text message during the week, with a photograph attached, that has made us re-appraise his encounter with the cyclist on the Taff Trail. It seems that Merthyr Town FC, the local team for Merthyr Tydfil, nicknamed the Martyrs, or the Red and Greens, have just brought out a new away kit, which is in fact green and white horizontal stripes and, for all the world, unless you look very closely, it looks like a Celtic top. So, was this mystery cyclist on the Taff Trail, who called out Hail, Hail Father Gareth, while passing at great speed, really wearing a Celtic strip, or might he have been wearing the new Merthyr Town FC away strip? Will we ever know?
Meanwhile we have begun to take tentative steps towards a phased re-opening of churches, and are trying to plan ahead so as to have in place everything we need for when the time comes. Certainly, we won’t be getting back to normal, or even adopting the new normal, for a good while yet, but it may be that some limited opening up may happen soon. We are also trying to make sure we have the necessary number of volunteers in place to make it possible. So, as always, protect yourselves, protect others, and protect Christ in your life.


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father frank's log...

4/6/2020

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FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 31st MAY – 7th JUNE 2020

The big news this week is that the Child of Prague has arrived safely in Merthyr Tydfil and that Father Gareth and his mum, who is still isolating, are already enjoying the benefits and experiencing many blessings. During the week I was talking to a parishioner who had come into get some Mass Cards. As we stood outside in the blazing sun, safely distanced, she was telling me the story of how, some years ago, she had been given a statue of the Child of Prague by her aunt. One day she let it fall and the infant’s head came off. Mending the statue was put on the long finger until just a few weeks ago, when she got some super glue and put it together again. The very next day she read my log from that week, saying that in Ireland it was considered a good luck omen if the Child of Prague’s head fell off. So, now she has to find a way of dropping it again, and hope that the super glue wasn’t too strong. Father Gareth told me that he was out walking the Taff Trail last Tuesday when suddenly someone wearing a Celtic top zoomed past him on a bicycle and, as they passed him by, they shouted “Hail, Hail Father Gareth”. He assures me that this is true and that he nearly fell in the river with shock.
 
A few mornings ago, a package came through the letter box. At first, we thought it might be a book that Father Antony was expecting, being a man of many books, but the package didn’t have his name on it. It was addressed simply to the Passionist Community in Bishopbriggs. When I opened it up, the first thing I saw was a global mapping star chart. Then I found a certificate referring to a star in the constellation, Canes Venatici, which I have since discovered lies in the northern hemisphere, and that the translation of the Latin name means Hunting Dogs, representing the hunting dogs of Boötes the Herdsman. It seems that this star is now called Larry, 25 May 2020, in honour of Fr. Lawrence Byrne CP. There was even a little silver star that came with it. The date of 25 May, being the date of Celtic’s European Cup victory in Lisbon in 1967, suggests to us that our dear Father Lawrence ordered this himself before he died, no doubt with a twinkle in his eye, knowing that it would give us a smile when it dropped through our door from beyond the grave. Or perhaps someone out there ordered it for him, if so, please let us know. Meantime, if any of you look up at the sky on a starry, starry night, and you can pick out a constellation that looks like a hunting dog. watch out for Larry and give him a wave.
 
By the time you read this I imagine that Father Justinian will be out of hospital and home to us in Bishopbriggs. He has been in the Glasgow Royal Infirmary for just over a week, getting lots of tests and receiving treatment. They found a couple of things of concern, which is only to be expected in his 90th year, but they reckon he will be home soon, and with us for a good while yet. I’m not so sure he wants to come home as there were a couple of nurses with St. Mungo’s connections whom he has been charming with his patter; they have spoiled him rotten, and he has been lapping it up. But the word at present is that, all going well, we can collect him and bring him back on Friday evening.
 
Father Antony had a strange experience on one of his nightly walks. He started to hear music and couldn’t figure out where it was coming from; he followed the sound to one place and then to another, but was confounded each time. Still determined to locate the source of this music, he followed the sound to Bishopbriggs Cross, but then suddenly the music stopped and he was left bemused and bewildered. He came home in a daze and told the story as if it were an episode of the X-Files, or to those of us of an older vintage, the Twilight Zone. Personally, I think that he got a bit too much of the sun on one of those long runs he has been doing in the afternoons, in 26C degrees of scorching heat, that can’t be good for the mind, surely. Still and all, he has a very good tan.
 
As for me, my routine is as usual, moving between the house, the church and my brother’s home, who, thankfully, has had a fairly settled week. There was a bit of variety in that I had to participate in a Zoom Conference with our Provincial, Father Jim Sweeney, and the Provincial Council members. We Passionists of Scotland and Ireland were due to have our Provincial Chapter this month, which naturally was cancelled due to Covid-19. The hope is that we can hold it next October, but even that is a big if at this present time, in terms of people being able to travel, and how to hold a Chapter and maintain social distancing, if that is still in play come October. So, we were just discussing the implications of this and how best to move forward with the planning, but this too seems like another Twilight Zone, as we are moving in an area of great uncertainty. We will just need to wait and see.
As always, protect yourself, your loved ones and others, and protect Christ in your life.

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    Picture

    FATHER FRANK KEEVINS C.P.

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