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  PassionistsGlasgow

father frank's log...

17/12/2022

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FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 18th DECEMBER 2022 – 15th JANUARY 2023
​

It’s impossible to get away from John the Baptist in these Advent days, and I have a soft spot for him, as I share a birthday with him on 24th June. I have two friends who also share that birthday, one of whom is called John, and the other is called Sean, both after John the Baptist. I, however, was called Francis, after my father, and after Francis of Assisi, to whom there was great devotion in my family. John the Baptist, I would imagine, was a bit of a spectacle in those days and, at a time when things were tough, and there weren’t a lot of distractions, I’m sure he could be good entertainment value as well. He always brings to mind for me the great mission preachers of latter years, the Passionists, the Redemptorists, and so on, who could sometimes be a bit dramatic in their sermons and, when they weren’t being too scary with hellfire and brimstone, could be very entertaining and, especially in those bygone days before television, going to the mission could be a good night out.
 
I remember giving a parish mission in Balloch with the late Father Michael Doogan, rector and parish priest of St. Mungo’s in the 1970’s and into the 1980’s. Father Michael was a great preacher and, at his best, could he be very dramatic and entertaining. On the very first Sunday of the mission, I remember he was preaching on the blind beggar, Bartimeus, and he was at this flamboyant best. The people seemed to love it, but the old monsignor, who was parish priest, was not so impressed. After the sermon he got up, scowled, and then said to the people – I thought I’d booked a mission, not a circus. After that, he left us in the care of the curate, and we never saw him again. It turned out to be a very good mission.
 
Parish Missions have not disappeared completely, but I would suggest they are few and far between compared to the old days, and I have good memories of conducting them, also of the companions that I gave those missions with, and of the people and priests who welcomed us into their parishes and who attended the mission faithfully. I was probably more of a gentle Francis of Assisi in my preaching, than a dramatic John the Baptist, so perhaps I was given the right name after all.
 
There will be no Father Frank’s Log for the next few weeks. I wish you all a very happy and holy Christmas, with every blessing for the coming year. The year is coming to an end with lots of issues; the cold weather, the various strikes, and the cost-of-living crisis. As well as that, there are many indications that Covid hasn’t gone away. None of us knows what 2023 will bring but, whatever it brings, God will be in the midst of it with us.
 
If there is a purpose to Father Frank’s log, it is quite simply this, that, in all the various circumstances of life, the rough and the smooth, the serious and the silly; the happy and the sad; the sublime and the ridiculous; the expected and the unexpected; God is there, God is in all things, and God is present at all times. I have always found that, and, in my own stuttering way, that is what I try to convey in the log, in a light-hearted way. Faith sometimes has to be lived with a smile on its face. Perhaps even more so in troubled times.
 
Thank you for reading the log, whether that’s weekly on the website or monthly in the Flourish; and thank you for the affirmation and encouragement I receive. I will look forward to resuming the log very soon as life goes on, and so does God.
 
Meantime, and, more than ever in these difficult times; protect yourself, protect your loved ones and others, and protect Christ in your lives.

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father frank's log...

9/12/2022

1 Comment

 
FR. FRANK’S LOG: 11th – 18th DECEMBER 2022

For obvious reasons, football has been on my mind recently. I haven’t watched very much of the World Cup, and then of course there is the issue of human rights abuses that have soured it a bit. I am also missing the domestic game and will look forward to Celtic’s next match on 21st December. I belong to the last batch of Passionist students in these islands for whom playing football was a regular part of our leisure activity. Decreasing numbers of entrants into religious life and seminary since then have caused it to all but disappear. Even in my time, the late 1970’s and early 80’s, we didn’t have enough football playing students to form our own team and so, to have a team playing in the seminary league, we joined forces with the Discalced Carmelites and submitted a team with the rather awkward title of ODCCP – ODC being the Order of Discalced Carmelites, and CP being the Congregation of the Passion. We had an excellent team and we won the seminary league in every season I was involved. I played Right Full Back. My predecessor as parish priest, Father John Craven, was a Centre Forward who always reminded me of a player in the comics called Gorgeous Gus. Gorgeous Gus was too posh to run about, but if you passed the ball to his feet he could score from just about anywhere on the pitch. Father John had obviously been a great player in his time, but, as a late vocation, even later than myself, he was beyond doing too much running about, but if you got the ball to his feet, he had a fantastic shot, and scored us many a goal. Yet another senior in our team was the late Father Lawrence, who played in goals, and a good goalie he was too. There was one occasion, however, when I took a knock playing a pass back to him, and I shouted to him to clear it up the park and not to give it back to me. Unfortunately, he did play it back to me, and I fluffed the clearance, resulting in a goal to the opposition. Forty years later, driving into St. Mungo’s from Bishopbriggs, with Father Lawrence beside me in the passenger seat, I made a manoeuvre that he didn’t appreciate. He turned to me and said wryly: “You’re as bad a driver as you were a Right Back”. He had never forgotten.
 
A much tougher competition to win than the seminary league was the Devine Cup. (Devine with an “e” so no pun intended) The Devine Cup was for colleges and universities, as well as seminaries and religious orders, and so the opposition was much stronger. Only one year did we get to the final. I had to miss that final because my musical abilities were required at a Charismatic Conference, and my student director wouldn’t give me leave to play. However, the final was a draw and went to a replay, and I was available to play in that. Sadly, we went down 2-0 to St. Patrick’s Teachers Training College. A third competition we played in was an annual 7-a-side tournament hosted in Mount Argus. It was sponsored by a local councillor and the entrants came from the local council area. There were some very tough teams in it. The local cemetery to Mount Argus was called Mount Jerome, and every year we seemed to get drawn against the Mount Jerome Grave Diggers. They were a scary lot, and loved to try and kick lumps out of the baby priests, although the referees used to tell us we gave as good as we got and that, some of the time at least, our language could be worse than theirs as well. Only once did we beat them however, and that was in a penalty shootout. I remember I took the first penalty and, while spot-kicks were never my forte, I slipped it low into the corner of the net, and celebrated as if we had just won the World Cup. Happy Days!
 
Out at Bishopbriggs we are all well. Father John is delighted to have passed his UK driving test. Father Gareth has supplemented his ministry in GCU and CGC with extra services and it seems to be going well. Father Justinian has managed to watch just about every match in the World Cup, so far, and will probably miss it when it’s over, as it helps pass the time.
 
As always, protect yourselves, your loved ones and others, and protect Christ in your lives
1 Comment

father frank's log...

2/12/2022

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FR. FRANK’S LOG: 4th – 11th DECEMBER 2022

I spent the first few days of this past week at our Passionist Retreat Centre at Minsteracres in County Durham, where Father Antony is now Rector and Parish Priest. The reason for my trip was that I am now a member of the board of trustees/directors who are responsible for the governance of Minsteracres, and the delivery of its purposes and objectives. I was happy to become a member of the board, both to renew my acquaintance with a place I lived and worked in some 30 years ago, and loved every moment of it, and also to, hopefully, support Father Antony in the great challenge that goes along with his new position, in what is now an expanded St. Patrick’s Province of the Passionists in Ireland and Britain.
 
My journey to Minsteracres last Monday was a bit of an adventure, as is my wont. I had gone into town after the Morning Mass and Confessions to attend to some business before heading to Central Station. My intended route was Glasgow-Carlisle-Hexham-Riding Mill, where I would then be collected and brought the short distance to the Retreat Centre. On arrival at Glasgow Central I discovered that my first train, whose final destination was London Euston, had been cancelled. Fortunately, however, I had arrived early, and was able board another train for Liverpool Lime Street, which was also going via Carlisle. It did mean that my reservation for a quiet carriage went by the board and I had to find a space in an unreserved carriage. The first stop was Motherwell, and a great number of people boarded the train there, 17 of whom, I later discovered, were from several generations of one family, heading to London to celebrate a 50th birthday. They had also been booked on the cancelled London Train and now, instead of being all together, they found themselves scattered throughout the train. They would now have to change at Preston for London. As it turned out, the birthday boy ended up sitting at the same table as me, along with his wife. Before boarding, someone had handed him a very nice bottle of single malt whisky which he proceeded to open, so as to get the birthday celebration underway. He very kindly offered me a dram which, initially, I tried to refuse, partly because it was a bit early in the day, but mostly because I didn’t think he should be wasting this nice birthday gift on a stranger. He was, however, insistent, and I agreed to a tiny wee drop, which was, indeed, very nice. The journey was starting to improve. Then, when I alighted the train at Carlisle, I discovered that the line ahead was closed, and that they were bussing people from Carlisle to Haltwhistle, to connect with the train to Hexham there. Apparently there had been a derailment a few weeks previously and they were still working on the line. I was clearly going to be behind schedule, and so I texted Father Antony to tell him the situation. He kindly agreed to pick me up from the bus when it got into Haltwhistle, which was about a half-hour drive from Minsteracres. After all that the board meeting was a cinch, and I enjoyed the couple of days immensely. Father Antony and I then decided to pre-empt the return journey, and on Wednesday morning he dropped me again to Haltwhistle, where I picked up the bus to Carlisle, and boarded my train back to Glasgow, no problem.
 
In amidst the business items, I picked up a snippet of information which, as soon as I heard it, I knew, unbeknown to the man himself, I would be putting it into this week’s Log. It seems that some group that comes to Minsteracres is soon to have a Christmas panto-cum Nativity Play, and that, Father Antony has been persuaded to play the part of a singing sheep. He will be one of the sheep on the hillside on the morning of Jesus’ birth and, when the good news is announced, he is to sing the chorus of George Harrison’s Here comes the Sun. Imagine that, if you can! I can’t help wondering what parts I would give to Fathers Gareth, John and Jus, if a similar event were to take place in St. Mungo’s. I am open to suggestions. Meanwhile…
 
As always, protect yourselves, your loved ones and others, and protect Christ in your lives.

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    FATHER FRANK KEEVINS C.P.

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