FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 5th – 11th MAY 2025
As I write this week’s log, I am conscious that, by the time the next log comes along, we may well have a new pope. The last two conclaves only took two days before there was white smoke, and so, with the conclave beginning next Wednesday, there may be a habemus papam announcement by Friday or Saturday. I mentioned last week that this would be the eighth pope of my lifetime, although it will only be my seventh election, as Pius XII was already 12 years into his pontificate when I was born. I was 7 years of age when Pope John XXIII was elected, although, young as I was, I still remember it well.
The election I remember best though, took place on 26th August 1978. I was a student with the Passionists at the time, but I was at home in Glasgow for my summer holidays. We were encouraged to work during our holidays and so, that summer, I worked Monday to Friday in a project run by a group called Community Industry, helping to supervise young men from a List D school who were doing some painting for the Good Shepherd Convent in Bishopton. The most memorable experience came when one of the lads disappeared with the convent dog and I had to do a tour of Ferguslie Park in Paisley to try and find both of them, which I did. By night I was engaged as a barman at the Downhill Bar in Partick, where my mother worked for many years, pulling pints and pouring shorts. There were no fancy cocktails to worry about in those days, but it was hard work. At closing time, after clean up, we would get the number 9 bus back to Drumchapel together, stopping to pick up pokes of chips to share with Patrick when we got home. Hugh was married with two children by this time.
However, on Saturday 26th August, I had the day off, and Father Michael Doogan, rector and parish priest of St Mungo’s at that time, suggested to myself, and another student who was home at that time, that we take a drive down to Windermere, in the Lake District, for the day. We headed off in the early morning. It was a beautiful, sunny day, and we enjoyed a nice drive, lovely walks, a sail out on the lake, a good lunch, and lots of ice-cream cones, before heading back to Glasgow again. We hadn’t been listening to the news at all during the day, and there was no radio in the car. However, when we got near to St Mungo’s, around 10 o’clock at night, we heard a newsvendor announcing the next morning’s Sunday Mail for sale. I used to love getting this for the football pages, but this was during the close season. Still, I got out of the car to buy one anyway, and was immediately struck by the face of a man on the front page, underneath the caption, the Smiling Pope. Yes, this was the day of the election of Pope John Paul I, the first pope to take two names, after the previous two popes, John XXIII and Paul VI, both of whom had been a big influence on his life.
The very look of this smiling pope seemed to offer hope of a new era, but little did we know that, 33 days later, he would be dead, and his short pontificate would be over, yet still he made his mark. It was a nice touch of his successor, the goalie and philosopher from Poland, to honour him by taking the name John Paul II, who would hold the office, not for 33 days, but for 27 years. His influence on the church, and on the world, was quite remarkable, but still we might wonder what might have been if the smiling pope had lived longer.
Let’s pray fervently this week that the Holy Spirit will guide the cardinal electors to choose the right shepherd to guide us through these turbulent times and, once again, God rest Pope Francis, and thank you so much, for all you were, and for all you did.
As ever, protect yourself, your loved ones and others, and protect Christ in your lives.
As I write this week’s log, I am conscious that, by the time the next log comes along, we may well have a new pope. The last two conclaves only took two days before there was white smoke, and so, with the conclave beginning next Wednesday, there may be a habemus papam announcement by Friday or Saturday. I mentioned last week that this would be the eighth pope of my lifetime, although it will only be my seventh election, as Pius XII was already 12 years into his pontificate when I was born. I was 7 years of age when Pope John XXIII was elected, although, young as I was, I still remember it well.
The election I remember best though, took place on 26th August 1978. I was a student with the Passionists at the time, but I was at home in Glasgow for my summer holidays. We were encouraged to work during our holidays and so, that summer, I worked Monday to Friday in a project run by a group called Community Industry, helping to supervise young men from a List D school who were doing some painting for the Good Shepherd Convent in Bishopton. The most memorable experience came when one of the lads disappeared with the convent dog and I had to do a tour of Ferguslie Park in Paisley to try and find both of them, which I did. By night I was engaged as a barman at the Downhill Bar in Partick, where my mother worked for many years, pulling pints and pouring shorts. There were no fancy cocktails to worry about in those days, but it was hard work. At closing time, after clean up, we would get the number 9 bus back to Drumchapel together, stopping to pick up pokes of chips to share with Patrick when we got home. Hugh was married with two children by this time.
However, on Saturday 26th August, I had the day off, and Father Michael Doogan, rector and parish priest of St Mungo’s at that time, suggested to myself, and another student who was home at that time, that we take a drive down to Windermere, in the Lake District, for the day. We headed off in the early morning. It was a beautiful, sunny day, and we enjoyed a nice drive, lovely walks, a sail out on the lake, a good lunch, and lots of ice-cream cones, before heading back to Glasgow again. We hadn’t been listening to the news at all during the day, and there was no radio in the car. However, when we got near to St Mungo’s, around 10 o’clock at night, we heard a newsvendor announcing the next morning’s Sunday Mail for sale. I used to love getting this for the football pages, but this was during the close season. Still, I got out of the car to buy one anyway, and was immediately struck by the face of a man on the front page, underneath the caption, the Smiling Pope. Yes, this was the day of the election of Pope John Paul I, the first pope to take two names, after the previous two popes, John XXIII and Paul VI, both of whom had been a big influence on his life.
The very look of this smiling pope seemed to offer hope of a new era, but little did we know that, 33 days later, he would be dead, and his short pontificate would be over, yet still he made his mark. It was a nice touch of his successor, the goalie and philosopher from Poland, to honour him by taking the name John Paul II, who would hold the office, not for 33 days, but for 27 years. His influence on the church, and on the world, was quite remarkable, but still we might wonder what might have been if the smiling pope had lived longer.
Let’s pray fervently this week that the Holy Spirit will guide the cardinal electors to choose the right shepherd to guide us through these turbulent times and, once again, God rest Pope Francis, and thank you so much, for all you were, and for all you did.
As ever, protect yourself, your loved ones and others, and protect Christ in your lives.
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