FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 9th – 16th DECEMBER
This weekend in St. Mungo’s we are happily celebrating a Thanksgiving Mass for the Golden Jubilee of Passionist priesthood, of two men who have played a big part in my own journey as a Passionist down the years; Father Jim Sweeney CP, and Father Bernard Lowe CP.
In 2016 at our Provincial Chapter, Father Jim became the first Scot ever to be elected Provincial of the Passionists of St. Patrick’s Province, which is made up of a number of houses in Scotland and Ireland, as well as an English-speaking parish in Paris. Until recently St. Patrick’s Province also included South Africa, Botswana and Zambia, and while restructuring has seen our African Passionists move in the direction of autonomy, our Province still retains a close relationship with them to help and support them on that journey.
 
My first experience of Father Jim was during my working years. In 1969, after leaving St. Mungo’s Secondary School, where Father Jim had just been appointed chaplain, I had started going to the Passionist Retreat House at Coodham in Ayrshire and had become a lay member of the team conducting the retreats. Father Jim had been ordained in December 1968 and, while based in St. Mungo’s, he had also got involved with the Youth and Young Adult Retreats at Coodham. In those exciting times after Vatican II, I always found his inputs and liturgies hugely inspiring, and, without doubt, his inspiration contributed to my decision, made in the summer of 1974, to abandon accountancy and test out a Passionist vocation. Father Jim had also been appointed Vocations Director for the Passionists in Scotland and I remember leaving work in Olivetti one day and getting off the bus at St. Mungo’s to go and make my initial approach. When I got to the Retreat, I discovered that there had been a Provincial Chapter that summer, and that Father Jim had been replaced as Vocations Director by Father Michael Doogan, who had been ordained in December 1970. Those who knew Father Michael will appreciate that I didn’t have a straightforward accompaniment process with him. Always larger than life, Father Michael had me involved in all sorts of things, and it was only after I entered the following year, and heard my classmates talking about their interview experiences, that I realised that I had never actually had an interview. The only thing I remember from that time was a very young and fresh-faced Father Paul Francis, home for a family visit, filling me in on life as a Passionist Postulant and Student. Father Jim was transferred to Coodham after the 1974 Chapter and he continued to be a big influence on me and a great support to me as I prepared to leave for the Graan in Enniskillen, where my postulancy was due to take place, and he has continued to be an inspiration and support down through the years. I was very happy when he was elected Provincial.
 
After 4 years of postulancy and studies I was more than ready to go to the Passionist Novitiate in Crossgar, County Down. It was 1979 and myself and my classmates had waited on in Dublin for the visit of Pope John Paul II to Ireland before heading north. The Novice Master was Father Bernard Lowe, who had prepared for this ministry by spending some time in America. Father Bernard is a very gentle, quiet man; but with a breadth of wisdom and knowledge that is hard to match, and an edge of steel that only comes into play when it has to. I look back on my Novitiate as one of the best and most formative years of my life, as indeed it is meant to be, and a lot of that was down to Father Bernard. In later years when I was also made Novice Master, I had a very good role model to look back on. I also served on the Provincial Council when Father Bernard was the Provincial, and we worked together for a number of years in Mount Argus when he succeeded me as Rector and I continued on as Parish Priest. He is a genuinely good and holy man. I could not do justice to these two good and gifted men in such a few words, but I congratulate them and wish them every blessing.
 
May God’s love and grace be on Father Jim and Father Bernard, in thanks for all they have given of themselves in the service of God these past 50 years as Passionist Priests. Amen.
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 FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 16th – 23rd SEPTEMBER
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I had to travel to Ireland last week for two meetings, one in Dublin on Tuesday, and the other in Belfast on Wednesday. I’ve no doubt that when I say in this log from time to time that I was over in Ireland for meetings, there will be some who think “lucky him”, however the reality is that, setting aside the fact that meetings are often tedious, short haul travel is not always all that pleasant. These two days last week, for example, coincided with Storm Ali. The journey to Dublin had been okay but the storm was in full force on Wednesday morning when myself and Fr. Eugene, the rector of Holy Cross, Ardoyne, where the meeting was taking place, left Dublin for Belfast, and it took us a long time to get out of the city. At one stage, as we were driving through a tree-lined section of the road. we found ourselves assailed by conkers blowing off the trees and battering our windscreen. For a while it was a wee bit scary as we felt the windscreen was going to come crashing in on us at any moment.
 
All along the road we saw signs telling as that it was European Day Without A Road Death. The idea was that no one should die on the roads of Europe on that very day, Wednesday 19th September, and in the lead up to it road users were asked to think about the risks they face, the risks they pose to others, and how they can go about reducing those risks. Issues highlighted were speeding, drink-driving, not wearing a seat belt, using the phone while driving, using vehicles that haven’t been kept roadworthy, parking cars on bicycle lanes, blocking pedestrian crossings, not turning on lights, and engaging in risky manoeuvres. Nobody said anything about avoiding flying conkers. I don’t know how the day went but please God it was a success and there were in fact no road deaths, although I doubt it as I witnessed many selfish people on the day taking those very risks, especially using their phones, and I do know that at least two people died in Ireland as a direct result of Storm Ali.
 
The middle part of the journey was okay, although we did experience the car being buffeted by winds on high sections of the road around Newry. When we reached Lisburn, however, and tried to get onto the M1 into Belfast, everything came to a standstill. Traffic was either crawling or not moving at all. We put the radio on and heard that some electrical cables had been blown down and that part of the motorway was closed. We had no option but to stick with it and, as a result, our final section of the journey, that should have taken around 15 minutes, in fact took us an hour and 15 minutes. After the meeting I was supposed to get dropped off at Dublin Airport to fly home to Glasgow, but the person who was to bring me, on finding the M1 closed, had abandoned their journey and returned to Dublin. I was then dropped off at Belfast Bus Station to get a bus to the airport. I got my ticket and was told which platform the bus would leave from. I saw a bus with Airport Express written on the side and got on. Just before it took off it occurred to me that many of the people on the bus didn’t look as if they were travelling very far; it turned out I was on a bus to Belfast Airport with local stops along the way. I was just in time to hop off and jump on to the right bus.
 
When I arrived at a very crowded Dublin Airport I was still wondering if my plane would take off at all, as I knew that many flights had been cancelled during the day. Luckily, Storm Ali had abated enough for the flight to be enabled, although it was going to be delayed by about an hour and a half. An egg sandwich, a Bounty Bar, and about 100 pages of my novel later, I was at last Glasgow bound, and I was grateful to Brother Antony for collecting me at Buchanan Bus Station and having me home in Bishopbriggs before midnight. So, the next time I head to Ireland for meetings, don’t say “lucky him”, say “poor him”.
 
Almighty God, creator of all, like the disciples who were caught in the midst of a mighty storm, we ask you to come to our aid. We feel small and helpless before the great power of a storm, and so we place our trust in You, to shelter us, and to lead us to safe harbour, Amen.

FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 26th AUGUST – 2nd SEPTEMBER
 
The Log returns this week after a summer break.  I also had a wee break to myself. At the end of July I spent the second week of the Glasgow Fair with my younger brother in sunny Drumchapel – and sunny indeed it was. We just chilled out, which was just what I needed. I slept a lot; read a lot; and watched a few dramas that my brother had recorded for me. I love a good drama series but don’t often get the chance to see them, especially if they run for six weeks or more, so it’s great to just relax and watch them over a few days at home.
Then, in the first week of August, I went to Schoenstatt for a week’s retreat. The Sisters gave me St. Joseph’s Cabin, which is a self-catering facility, and that let me set my own rhythm for the retreat. I took with me a book that I had in my possession for many years. It was called “Alone with the Alone” by a Jesuit, now deceased, called George A. Maloney. It was set out as an 8-day retreat based on the method of St. Ignatius of Loyola, the founder of the Jesuits.
At regular periods in the morning, evening and night time, I would read a section in my room and pray the scripture passages that accompanied that section. I would then spend time in the little shrine at Schoenstatt. The Schoenstatt Shrine is a very special and prayerful place to experience the closeness of God.  It is modelled on the original shrine at Schoenstatt in Germany, and there are now over 200 of them, all identical, in different centres throughout the world. I found it a beautiful place to spend my prayer periods each day. I also celebrated Mass at a fixed time each day and fed myself very simply as I’m not a great cook.
The weather by then had changed a bit and so it was a week of sunshine and showers, much cooler than the previous weeks had been, but that was just as well because another part of my retreat was walking in the Campsie Fells, or along sections of the John Muir Way, the Thomas Muir Heritage Trail, and the Strathkelvin Railway Path, which all seemed to merge into each other. I think I would have struggled and suffered in the hot weather of the previous weeks and, to be honest, humbly acknowledging my increasing lack of fitness in my senior years, I stuck more to the trails on the level, than to the steep paths of the Campsies.
Although my retreat was planned around an 8-day programme, I had to leave Schoenstatt after 7 days due to the cycling time trials that were part of the European Championships being held in Glasgow. Every road around the Schoenstatt area was going to be closed from midnight and, what’s more, every road around our Passionist community house in Bishopbriggs was going to be closed as well. So, on the seventh day, after my final prayer time, I returned to Bishopbriggs, packed an overnight bag, and headed in to St. Mungo’s where I spent the night in the office, so as to be there to open the church the next morning and celebrate the 10 o’clock Mass. The last time I had to do that was during the heavy snows when I spent two nights in the office before the thaw. That same morning, Father Gareth walked the 5 miles from our house to St. Mungo’s to be there for Confessions and for the lunchtime Mass. Between St. Mungo’s church and our little oratory in Bishopbriggs I was able to complete the eighth day of my retreat and thank God for a very blessed time.
Here is the beautiful prayer of St. Ignatius – “Suscipe” – that I said every day:
Take, O Lord, and receive my entire liberty, my memory, my understanding and my whole will. All that I am and all that I possess You have given me: I surrender it all to You to be disposed of according to Your will. Give me only Your love and Your grace; with these I will be rich enough, and will desire nothing more.

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