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  • Welcome To Saint Mungo's
  • Parish Newsletter
  • Parish Office
  • YouTube Channel
  • 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
  • Photo Album
  • Safeguarding (Updated)
  • Archdiocese Privacy Notice
  • Father Franks Log
  • When Mass cannot be Celebrated Publicly
  • Upkeep of Saint Mungo's
  • Fr Lawrence R.I.P.
  • Month of Holy Souls
  • Passionists Jubilee
  • Fr Thomas Berry CP
  • Lent with the Catechism
  • Laudato Si -
  PassionistsGlasgow

father frank's log...

28/8/2020

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FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 22nd – 29th AUGUST 2020
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Normally at this time of year we are in the throes of preparing for our Annual Novena to Our Lady of Sorrows. Last year was a very special Novena as it was taking place in the 150th anniversary year of St. Mungo’s Church. We invited as preachers Fr Aidan Troy CP, rector and parish priest of our Passionist Church of St. Joseph’s in Paris; Fr Paul Francis Spencer CP, parish priest of our Passionist Church of Mount Argus in Dublin, and former rector and parish priest of St. Mungo’s, and Fr James Sweeney CP; Provincial of the Passionists in Scotland, Ireland, and indeed Paris. The closing Mass of the Novena was celebrated by Archbishop Tartaglia on 15th September 2019, after which the church was closed and the refurbishment of the church began, in particular the laying of the new floor. The work was finished, to great satisfaction, just in time for the ordination of Fr Antony Connelly CP, which took place on Saturday 21st December, with his first Mass being celebrated the following day. Then came Christmas, after which we breathed a sigh of relief, and thought that was it, into the New Year everything would be back to normal – little did we know a pandemic was on the way.
 
So, with the period of the Novena fast approaching (it takes place from 7th – 15th September), we haven’t booked any preachers; we haven’t printed any posters; and we are still severely restricted by all the protocols demanded of churches when opening for public worship of any kind. So, what are we to do? The sensible thing would be to cancel the Novena for this year. That’s what many other churches have done in similar circumstances, but we didn’t really want to do that. When Father Gareth returned from Wales a few days ago, he, myself and Father Antony sat down and devised a modest programme that would allow an event to take place each day, both in the Church, and from the Oratory in Bishopbriggs, from where it would be streamed. Details of this are in the Newsletter on our Parish Website, but I’m going to repeat them here as not everyone may read the Newsletter.
 
There will be a Novena Mass in the Church on Tuesday 8th; Thursday 10th; and Tuesday 15th
September @ 10am - booking as usual. There will be an additional Mass on Friday 11th September at 1.00 p.m. which will be first come; first served – 50 people limit. On Monday 7th; Wednesday 9t; and Monday 14th September, Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross, there will be a Holy Hour from 3-4 p.m. The 6 p.m. Vigil on Saturday 12th September, and the
10 a.m. and 12 Noon Masses on Sunday 13th September will all be Novena Masses. Novena Masses will be streamed from the Oratory on all the usual days and times – Monday7th, Wednesday 9th, Friday 11th, Saturday 12th and Monday 14th at 12.15 p.m. and Sunday 13th at 7.00 p.m. On the two days there is no streamed Mass from the Oratory, Tuesday 8th & Thursday 10th September, there will be a Reflection with Novena Prayers at 7.00 p.m. There will be a closing streamed Mass on Tuesday 15th September, Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows, at 7.00 p.m. Have you got all that?  We think that this is the best we can do as things are.
 
All of this is totally dependent on the work of our faithful band of volunteers who, since the churches first opened again for public worship, have been absolutely wonderful. and we have planned the Church Masses and Services for the Novena around the times on which they are available, so as not to place an additional burden upon them, and I want to take the opportunity here in Father Frank’s Log to say a huge word of gratitude to them. We simply could not be doing without them. Those who wish to place petitions to be prayed for during the Novena, and to make a donation if you wish, can do so online, or else take petition leaflets from the back of the church, fill them in, place them in the envelope provided, and put them in the safe collection box – they will be easily distinguishable from other contributions. We will pray for these petitions at every Novena Mass and Service, whether in the Church or in the Oratory, throughout the Novena. May there be blessings for everyone.
So, as always, protect yourselves and your loved ones, and protect Christ in your lives.
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father frank's log...

22/8/2020

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FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 15th – 22nd AUGUST 2020
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I’m a day later getting to the Log this week as yesterday was taken up with a meeting of a Passionist Province Commission of which I am the coordinator. There were only five of us at the meeting, four Passionists and a facilitator, and we met in the bottom hall at St. Mungo’s. Prior to the meeting the facilitator had been in touch to seek agreement on the purpose and agenda for the meeting, but also to propose the protocols we should put in place for keeping safe, having himself consulted the most recent advice available for keeping safe at meetings. Among his proposals were: open all windows and doors to increase air ventilation and air exchange – and therefore to bring an extra layer of clothing in case it got cold (which it did); everyone bring laptops so that any documents could be shared online rather than sharing paper documents; sit two metres apart (in fact we did more than that as we created a pentagon of tables which meant we were at least 3 meters apart); everyone bring their own supply of alcohol hand gel and use it at regular intervals throughout the meeting; and bring our own drinks and lunch. This is yet another example of how complex life has become in the course of this pandemic, when even a simple meeting of just five people demands such care and preparation.
 
Father Antony is also on the Commission, and the facilitator lives in Milngavie. The other two Passionists travelled over separately from the North of Ireland on the ferry, one from Crossgar, and the other from Belfast. As we have no accommodation to offer, each booked into a different hotel for bed and breakfast. Hotels, of course, also have their protocols to follow. On the basis of this, one of the guys had quite a positive experience, and the other a horrendous experience. On Wednesday evening I had been invited by one of the guys, the one who had arrived earliest, to meet him for a bite to eat in an Indian restaurant near to his hotel. In years gone by, when he was based in Scotland, he had come to consider Glasgow as the best place ever for Indian cuisine. The restaurant also had all the Covid-19 protocols in place, one of which was that we had to sit alongside each other, rather than facing each other, so as to keep the two-metre distance from the table in front. The food was delicious, and we were able to have a good catch-up with each other. The waitress kept referring to us as “my darlings”, in a very loud and friendly way, and, I thought to myself, I must bring Father Gareth here some time as I could imagine her calling him darling, and him calling her sweetheart, and the whole restaurant being able to hear and enjoy the pair of them – but no hugging so as to keep safe distance.
 
At the beginning of the meeting, before getting down to business, we shared on how things had been for us during these past few months. One of the Passionists had contracted the virus early on, he thinks from another member of the community, but had been able to carry on his counselling ministry via Zoom. He had recognised the need to have a special shirt for these Zoom meetings as the temptation during isolation was to stray from casual into scruffy, which wouldn’t have come across as very professional. The other Passionist, the director of our retreat house, had been compelled to close doors and isolate with his community. He had found it a prayerful time, with plenty of opportunity for reading, and enjoying walks in the beautiful retreat house grounds. The facilitator was on furlough and was able to enjoy time with his wife and young daughter, feeling grateful that he could walk out of his front door and, in minutes, be on some of the lovely walking paths that are part of the West Highland Way. Father Antony and I shared our experiences too, but I think readers of this Log will have a good idea of how things have been for us during this period.
 
In Bishopbriggs at present, we are looking forward to Father Gareth’s return next Tuesday. As well as longing to welcome his unique, larger than life presence, to liven up our community life, it will also be good to have him available to share the pastoral load. The only drawback is that I have been using his room as an overflow to hang up washing on the clothes dryer, rather than cluttering up the sitting room, which we normally use, and also to hang up my own shirts to keep the creases out, so as to clear space in my own room, which is the smallest room in the house. I will need to ensure that all of that is removed before Father Gareth bursts in the door as if he had never been away. Father Antony and myself are still keeping things going as best we can. Father Antony is looking forward to going over to Belfast for his classmate Aidan’s ordination on 5th September. The ordination was postponed last May because of Covid-19, but even though restrictions are still in place, and it won’t be as Aidan would have wanted, it will now definitely go ahead on that date no matter what. Father Justinian is well. So, as always, protect yourselves and your loved ones, and protect Christ in your lives
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father frank's

13/8/2020

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FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 8th – 15th AUGUST 2020
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Last Friday night parish priests and parish coordinators received an email from the Vice-Chancellor of the Archdiocese to provide an update on Covid-!9 restrictions for acts of public worship. There was nothing particularly new in the document, but I detected a definite change of tone, a harsher tone, not from the Vice-Chancellor, but from the Government. Essentially, it was a reminder to parish priests that we would be committing a criminal offence if we did not enforce the Government guidelines with regard to face coverings; social distancing; numbers control; track and trace details; and infection control. Initially, it got me down a bit, not because I disagreed with the guidelines, but because I was imagining the consequences if something went wrong, with St. Mungo’s having to close doors, and other churches having to close doors too, because of St. Mungo’s, just as we were beginning to get going again. This is the tenuous nature of the times, and the reality we are living in. We have also come to realise how tenuous things are with regard to pubs, restaurants, and the like, and of course, football, with the exploits of the Aberdeen Eight, and Boli Bolingoli, meriting a yellow card from the First Minister, and the Sword of Damocles hanging over us, of a possible red to come.
 
The thought of potentially committing a criminal offence isn’t pleasant, but it didn’t bother me, as I know that we are doing our absolute best here in St. Mungo’s to get things right. In a more light hearted vein I recalled that I already have a criminal record, of sorts. When I was eight years of age I was “booked” by the police, along with my older brother and four friends, for playing football in Thurso Street in Partick, outside the old Spillers Mill. Usually we had a lookout who signalled to us when the police were in sight, and we would make a run for it, but, on this occasion, we were caught out by two plain clothes policemen. In the Glasgow gangland era I would have thought there might have been greater priorities than us, but there you are. The six of us, two Keevins’s and four Kelly’s, all from up the same close, had to appear before the Children’s Panel, and we all received a 5 shilling fine – which was a fair bit of money in those days for our parents to pay out. After our ordeal we had to return to school at St. Peter’s Primary in Partick. My brother’s teacher treated it lightly enough, but my own teacher was most displeased, especially as I was the teacher’s pet. This was mainly because I served Mass every morning before school at St. Simon’s Church in Partick Bridge Street, and I always got my R.E. questions right. On this basis, I was considered honest and trustworthy enough to be sent out each day to get her lunch. This was always the same routine. I would walk down to the local grocer’s shop on Dumbarton Road and ask for a quarter pound of red cheddar. The big block of cheese would be sitting on the counter and I would gaze in fascination as the grocer got the cheese wire and sliced through the block with consummate ease. He would then, with a flourish, throw the cheese on to the weighing scales and, almost always, it would be a quarter pound exactly. I was continually amazed at how he could always get it so spot on. He would then wrap the quarter pound of red cheddar up in greaseproof paper and put it in a brown paper bag, take the money from me, ring it up on the big till, give me the change, and I would bring it back to my teacher. Day in, day out; week in, week out, I performed this task diligently, and I can only imagine this was the reason she was so disappointed in my crime. Still, it didn’t stop her from sending me out for the red cheddar.
 
In reality, everything seems to be going smoothly enough, and people accept all that has to be done in a good spirit. One positive aspect of the booking system is that, when people arrive for Mass, and have to be ticked off on the check list, we are putting faces to names that we weren’t sure of before. There is a good sense of community, in that we are all in this together, making the sacrifices, looking out for each other, and the variety of face mask designs has become the topic of great conversation and fun, even though nobody actually likes wearing them. Out in Bishopbriggs there is not a lot to report, except that two of our neighbours, one diagonally to the left of us, and the other diagonally to the right, have both had their cars stolen recently, and there have been reports of other cars being stolen, usually in the wee hours of the morning, throughout the estate. The police have been at the door asking did we see or hear anything, but, with Father Gareth still away, only Father Justinian sleeps at the front of the house, while both Father Antony and myself sleep at the back of the house, where all we hear is the croaking of frogs and the chirping of birds in the woods, so, we weren’t much help. I don’t think any of our cars are worth stealing, but we are certainly being more careful about making sure that no keys, or anything of any value, is left inside them. Apart from that we are good. So, as ever, protect yourselves and your loved ones, and protect Christ in your lives.
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father frank's log...

6/8/2020

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FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 1st – 8th AUGUST 2020
​
Last Saturday I celebrated my first wedding since lockdown began. Other weddings had been postponed until next year, especially with hotel and reception venues cancelling, but this couple were determined that the wedding would go ahead, if at all possible. The most important thing, after all, was the marriage, not the reception. Over the weeks and months since the pandemic took hold, the couple and myself were watching for the First Minister’s announcements each Thursday, listening for a hopeful word that weddings could go ahead, even with restrictions and limitations. Eventually that word came and we knew, barring a second spike, that the wedding could proceed, albeit with a maximum of 20 people, and a raft of protocols to comply with. The paperwork proved a challenge as well. Two dioceses were involved and chancellery staff in both were working from home. The registry office was on lockdown too but re-opened just in time to allow the necessary civil requirements to be attended to. The night before the wedding there was torrential rain with thunder and lightning, but on the day itself the sun was shining, albeit with a bit of a breeze. All went well, with only 10 people in all present, including the bride and groom – well, 11 if you include myself. There was a BBQ afterwards in the family garden, after which the couple managed a few days away, glad of some peace and quiet after the tension and anxiety of the previous months, and no doubt, whenever it becomes possible, they will gather a larger group of family and friends to celebrate belatedly what was a very lovely and happy occasion.
 
We have reduced our streaming service a little bit from St. Mungo’s, as Father Antony and myself were finding things a bit stretched since public Masses resumed in the church. So, on the two weekdays, Tuesday and Thursday, when we have Mass in the church, we don’t have Mass streamed from the community house in Bishopbriggs, but that still leaves five days when we do have streamed Mass. We know that the main purpose of these streamed Masses is to provide a service for people who are still in isolation, for one reason or another, and who therefore cannot come out to Mass as they would like. However, we have also made a lovely connection with people in Ireland, North and South, and in a number of other countries as well, who seem to have formed a small, virtual community, of prayerful communion with each other, and we don’t want to let go of that too easily. When life gets back to some kind of normal, we will have to think carefully, and consult, on how this virtual family of faith might continue, in some fruitful way, going forward. There is a sense in which the church will have changed as a result of this pandemic, and as a consequence of how we have had to adapt and respond to the challenges that were posed. Not everything will be exactly as before, and if there are positive opportunities to emerge, we will do our best to take hold of them. We have also added an extra day to our availability for the Sacrament of Reconciliation, which takes place during the times that the church is open for personal Prayer and Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament. This is now on Mondays and Wednesdays from 2-4 p.m., and on Saturdays from 3-5 p.m. It is heartening to see how people have responded to this, and while, as I mentioned before, there were some tears shed in the first weekend when we returned to public Masses, there have also been tears of shed by people who have felt bereft in not having this Sacrament of Healing available to them, and who can now return. If only more people could come to an appreciation of the blessings this Sacrament can bring.
 
At a more mundane level, the football season has resumed, and I had to rely on a parishioner to inform me that my older brother, the doyen of Scottish sports journalists, has made a return to the written word with a certain Sunday newspaper. When I checked this out online, the vitriol was already outpouring from some of the sad and mad people who think social media is a vehicle for their own particular bile. Big brother is a brave man for making himself vulnerable to that yet again – as if Super Scoreboard wasn’t enough. But he is a good writer, who uses intelligent thoughts and words, with real punctuation, almost a lost art, and I will look forward to reading his articles. On another sporting note I was amused by John Higgins’ comment that coming out at the World Snooker Championships to no audience was a bit like going to Mass. As for we Passionists, there is not a lot to report. Father Antony, having cut the hair of father Justinian and myself, has now cut his own hair, and not before time, he was beginning to look like the Cure d’Ars. The date for Father Gareth’s return has now been agreed for 25th August, all going well with his mum, and we still look forward to that. 
As ever, protect yourselves and your loved ones, and protect Christ in your lives.
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father frank's log...

31/7/2020

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FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 26th JULY – 1st AUGUST 2020
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At the time of writing we are into the second week of the Glasgow Fair. I know the Glasgow Fair is not what it used to be but, until very recently, it was always the time, the last two weeks in July, when I would take my Summer Holidays. As a child I associate the Glasgow Fair with the excitement of getting a taxi to St. Enoch’s Station and boarding the steam train to Saltcoats. The Hogwarts Express was nothing by comparison. As a family, we would always stay in the same boarding house, where the proprietors had a huge Dalmatian which we simply called Spotty Dog. Every year we couldn’t wait to see that dog, and it was as if the dog was excited to see us as well. We would go to the beach every day, enjoy a paddle in the sea, build sandcastles, and eat ice-cream cones, even when it was raining, or when it felt as if the temperatures were sub-zero, our skin turning blue, and our teeth chattering. We were on our holidays! Apart from the beach, by day it was train spotting from the railway bridge and taking down the numbers. At night it was chips with hot peas and vinegar from the local chippie. The steam train back to St. Enoch’s was a sombre affair - holidays over.
 
In my working years with the Singer Sewing Machine Company in Clydebank, and the Olivetti Typewriter Company in Queenslie, that is, between the years of 1969 and 1975, I always took the Glasgow Fair for my annual holiday as well. I don’t think the factories actually closed at that time, as they used to do up until the 1960’s, but it just seemed the natural thing to do. Old habits die hard. Most of those Glasgow Fairs were spent on the Isle of Barra with some madcap friends, who continue to be friends to this day, and as mad as ever, even though married with children now, and even grandchildren. We meet up every now and again, when their wives will let them out, but that has all been curtailed during lockdown.
 
In 1975 I joined the Passionists. During student years the summers were different, we had pastoral placements of varying kinds, but I continued to take the Glasgow Fair as my summer period for going home to spend time with my family. I wouldn’t do a whole lot but I enjoyed catching up on some old haunts in Glasgow, and simply taking it easy. My younger brother, who worked for 46 years in National Savings until poor health forced his retirement last year, would always take the Glasgow Fair as his holiday, so it meant that he was home at the same time that I was there. That became more important after our mother died in 2001, after which the Glasgow Fair became a really restful, peaceful, catch-up time for both of us together. That lasted until I returned to Glasgow in October 2016 and, since then, it has been a bit different. In fact, despite what Father Gareth and Father Antony might tell you, and unlike them, between one thing and another, I haven’t actually managed a holiday of any kind for the past two years and, when it was pointed out to me, two Mondays ago, that it was fair Monday, it took me quite by surprise. But then, I suppose I’m not the only one as we can easily lose track of all kinds of things in these strange times we are living in.
 
As mentioned before, in this lockdown period, there have been quite a number of funerals, but now, during this next period, I am getting ready to celebrate a wedding, and also a baptism, still with all the protocols in place, so it will be interesting to see how those go. I will let you know. Father Justinian continues to do well and is enjoying his tidy room, although he says he can’t find where anything is. Father Antony keeps up his healthy routine of walking at night, dropping into his mum, and then popping into the Supermarket on the way home if we need any shopping. My mind still boggles with trying to respond personally to all the Mass booking requests, and I have recently been trying to finalise accounts with our auditor, so those early and leisurely lockdown days seem long gone at this stage. No word from Father Gareth after his long phone call last week when we discussed plans for his return when his mum’s shielding comes to an end on 16th August. We can’t wait. Can you?
As always, protect yourselves and your loved ones, and protect Christ in your lives.

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father frank's log...

23/7/2020

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FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 19th – 26th JULY 2020
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At the time of writing we have completed our first schedule of Public Masses. We held two Sunday Masses at 10 o’clock and 12 o’clock, to which we will now add a 6.00 p.m. Vigil Mass on Saturday; and two weekday Masses on Tuesday and Thursday at 10 o’clock. We will also add an extra day for personal prayer, adoration and the Sacrament of Reconciliation. These are now available on Mondays and Wednesdays from 2.00-4.00 p.m. and on Saturdays from 3.00-5.00 p.m., but we have dropped the Sunday afternoon time as it wasn’t so well attended, and we now have the two morning Masses on the Sunday anyway. It’s all about feeling our way at the moment, but I have been struck by how we are very much creatures of habit. For example, we have had Confessions since 24th June, and until last week it was easily manageable for Father Antony and myself, but in the days leading up to churches opening again for Public Masses we were inundated with Confessions, and that’s what has led us to adding an extra day. I also wondered if the Sunday afternoons were quiet because people don’t associate Sunday with going to Confession. Also, despite the temporary lifting of the Sunday Mass obligation, and the encouragement to opt for a Weekday Mass if possible, so as to free up space on Sunday for those who can’t come to a Weekday Mass, the Sunday Masses both reached their 50 quota easily, while the weekday Masses have been only half-full.
 
Up to this point I have been responding to all the booking applications personally as we decided not to opt for Eventbrite or any other booking system. There is something jarring about seeing a notice saying that Masses are “sold out”, and so, despite the extra load, we have tried to operate through our own parish website. It certainly has a more personal feel about it, and I am gradually developing my own way of doing things, but I am asking people to be patient as I cannot always respond immediately because of other commitments – and I do need to eat and sleep now and again. A nice gentleman turned up for Mass on Tuesday morning and said he didn’t get confirmation of his booking. I asked him when he had booked, and he said it was 45 minutes previously. At that stage I was setting things up for Mass and preparing to open up for the volunteer stewards to arrive and set things in motion. There was no problem with him coming in though, once he was happy to give his contact details, because, as already stated, the midweek masses have been only half full. Another phoned while I was having my dinner and said they hadn’t received a reply to a booking request which was submitted only 15 minutes previously. Again, no problem, but please note, I am not on auto-response and, as we are asked to verify on PayPal and the like, I am not a robot.
 
The first Public Mass here in St. Mungo’s was at 10 o’clock last Sunday. As I came out to begin the Mass, I felt fine, but as soon as I began the Introductory Rites, and welcomed people back, I felt myself filling up and, unashamedly, tears began to flow. I was told by some people afterwards that I set them off too, and why not, it was an emotional occasion, and it meant so much more to people than those who put public worship at the end of the queue after pubs, restaurants, coffee shops, card shops, D.I.Y. stores, and the like, gave credit for. So, despite the limitations, it’s wonderful to be gathering, listening, receiving the Holy Eucharist, and being sent out together, to live the Gospel, once again. Praise God! The news from Bishopbriggs is that Father Justinian has had a major clean-up job done on his room. His niece and sister-in-law arrived last Tuesday at around 11.00 a.m. and left at 3.00 p.m., and what a fantastic job they did. It is a total transformation. Father Antony is still enjoying being an uncle again. He was playing it cool, but I could see his concern when wee Liam was taken back into hospital with a slight jaundice, but he was out again next day, and Uncle Antony was a happy bunny once again. The big news, of course, is that Father Gareth will be back to us around the 19th/20th of August. His mum finishes shielding on the 16th and, once he sees she is coping okay, he will head back to us, and we are really looking forward to that.
As always, protect yourselves and your loved ones, and protect Christ in your lives.

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father frank's log...

17/7/2020

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FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 12th – 19th JULY 2020
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In the past couple of weeks both Father Antony and myself have celebrated funeral Masses for the first time since lockdown began, with the exception of the funeral of Father Lawrence, which I celebrated with eight of his family members, and with Father Antony concelebrating, right at the beginning of lockdown. Afterwards even that wasn’t possible, it has been either crematorium or graveside services with limited numbers and social distancing in place, until now. These were also the first Masses of any kind with a congregation in the church since the beginning of lockdown and, while it was good to be able to celebrate, it still felt very strange. Since then, of course, the announcement has come from the First Minister that public worship could resume from 15th July, a week or so earlier than was expected. From the time of that announcement we have been putting plans in place for the resumption of Public Masses in St. Mungo’s. This isn’t as straightforward as it seems, and so much of it depends on having sufficient volunteers for stewarding; ensuring safety measures are adhered to; seating people; candle lighting; cleaning before and after services, and perhaps even queue management. We have also had to put a booking system in place and ensure that we gather the necessary details required by the NHS in the event of a Covid 19 outbreak, but also to ensure that data protection controls are sufficiently in place. Our first Public Masses will be this coming Sunday, and you will find our revised schedule on the homepage of the Website and in the Parish Newsletter section. We will keep reviewing this as we go along.
 
The booking system went live on Wednesday night and, from the word go, bookings were flowing in, especially for the 12 o’clock Mass on Sunday, which is now fully booked. I had a late night on Wednesday trying to record and respond to those initial bookings. The booking system itself worked perfectly, thanks to our wonderful Website manager, Paul, but I only realised the following morning that, as part of the security involved, I couldn’t simply click Reply and confirm the bookings, which is what I had been doing, so I said Praise the Lord and set out to revisit them all again and implement a new method of confirming bookings. My head is melted, as this is all so new, and I’m a technophobe, but I think it’s all working now, please God. I hope, however, that we are never in the position of having to turn anyone away who hasn’t booked, that really goes against the grain, but that is exactly what we have been instructed to do. So, let’s see how this first week goes, and we will take it from there.
 
Father Gareth sends his best wishes from Merthyr Tydfil and says that he and his mum are doing well. He has had messages from people saying that they want to return to the church after many years away, so he is encouraged by that. Shielding ends in Wales on 16th August, so we would expect Father Gareth to be back to us soon after that. Father Justinian continues to get encouraging word from the carers and nurses who visit and he looks well. He is also enjoying increased family visits and has even ventured out to the homes of his two brothers and their wives on a couple of occasions. He and I both got our haircuts from Father Antony last Friday, so I am very happy to be able to see again through my eyebrows. The big news from Bishopbriggs, though, is that Father Antony is an uncle again. His wee sister Jill gave birth to her first child on Thursday. He had mentioned in his homily at the 12.15pm Mass that he was waiting on word, as the 1st reading that day mentioned a woman with child nearing her time, not realising that at 12.14pm, 8lb, 8oz, Liam had entered this world just as Mass was about to begin. (As a Celtic mad family, I can’t believe that the 88 is a coincidence) So, congratulations to the parents, Jill and Ryan, also to all of the family on both sides as they welcome a new member, and of course to Uncle Antony, who is absolutely delighted, as are we all. As I mentioned before, I am the only one in the Passionist Community who drinks, so it will be up to me to wet the baby’s head, which I will make the sacrifice to gladly do.
As always, protect yourselves and your loved ones, and protect Christ in your lives.
 
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July 11th, 2020

11/7/2020

1 Comment

 
FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 5th – 12th JULY 2020
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On the day of writing this log it is, in Scotland, the Feast of Our Lady of Aberdeen, but in our Passionist Calendar we celebrate the Feast of Our Lady, Mother of Holy Hope. It was on this day, 9th July, in 1857, that Father Charles Houben, now Saint Charles of Mount Argus, the Passionist saint noted for his ministry of healing, first set foot on Irish soil and came to reside in Mount Argus, the Passionist monastery in Dublin that was to become synonymous with him. The image of Our Lady, Mother of Holy Hope shows Mary holding the child Jesus who has a cross in his hand, reflecting the teaching of Saint Paul of the Cross, the founder of the Passionists, that ‘the whole life of Jesus was a cross’ and that “the life of a disciple of Jesus means remaining on the cross with Him”. The original picture came into the possession of Saint Paul of the Cross in 1773, two years before his death. His successor as Superior General of the Passionists had copies made and it became the custom for each Passionist religious to have one of these prints in his room. Interestingly, the image was first brought to the English-speaking Passionist world by Cardinal, now Saint John Henry Newman, who was visiting Rome in 1847 and, when he was returning to England, the Passionist Superior General at that time gave him copies to bring to Blessed Dominic Barberi, the Passionist priest who had received Saint John Henry Newman into the Catholic Church two years previously.
 
So, Father Charles already had a great devotion, and often prayed to Mary under that title, but the fact that he arrived in Ireland, from England, on that particular feast would have served to heighten his devotion, and intensify his prayer, as he tried to settle into a very new, difficult and lonely situation. He was, of course, from the Netherlands, where devotion to Mary, the Mother of Holy Hope is very strong among the Passionists, and indeed the Passionists in the Netherlands gather under the title of the Province of Our Lady, Mother of Holy Hope. When I was Master of Novices for North Europe, I used to love visiting the Passionists in the Netherlands, as I always found them very friendly and welcoming. The first time I visited them was at the Mother House in Haastrecht, (not to be confused with Maastricht which is further south, and famous for the treaty that established the European Union in 1992, and also as the birthplace of Andre Rieu, who holds fabulous concerts there every summer, not far from the birthplace of Father Charles at Munstergeleen). I was shown to my room and invited to join the community in the recreation at 5.30 p.m. where, I was told, they gathered every evening to pray for the Pope. I was mildly surprised at such prayerful devotion to the Pope who, at that time, was John Paul II. However, it turned out that praying for the Pope was a euphemism for having a pre-dinner drink and chat, which was very pleasant indeed.
 
The Netherlands, being very flat, is a great place for bicycles, although one member of the Passionist Community preferred roller skates for getting around and, in the winter, he would take to ice-skates, and travel by the frozen canals to wherever he had to go. Haastrecht is only 5 kilometres from Gouda, famous for its very nice cheese, and so, one day, I borrowed a bicycle to go into Gouda and have a look. As I picked up speed on the road I saw a set of traffic lights up ahead turning to red and suddenly realised that the bicycle had no brakes, and so I had to make a rather ungainly and undignified stop with the soles of my shoes, ending up curled up on my side, with the bicycle on top of me, so as not to be battered by traffic on the crossroads. I later discovered that peddling backwards was the way to engage the brakes. I never was much of a cyclist, and I certainly didn’t try the roller skates or ice skates. I made it to Gouda and calmed my nerves by enjoying some nice strong coffee and appelstrudel.
 
Not much to report from Bishopbriggs. We are all well and hoping to have Father Gareth back with us soon, as things return gradually to a new normal. In the days ahead we will try to assess today’s rather complex new guidelines from the Government on communal worship. As always, protect yourselves and your loved ones, and protect Christ in your lives.
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father frank's log...

4/7/2020

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FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 28th JUNE – 5th JULY 2020

Last week we should have been attending our Provincial Chapter, which is a gathering of the Passionists from Scotland, Ireland (North and South) and Paris who make up what we call St. Patrick’s Province. This gathering takes place every four years and, during the Chapter, we review the life of the Province, face into any difficulties and challenges, and plan our pastoral priorities for the following four years. We also elect, or re-elect, our Provincial and his Council (also known as the Curia) and one of the tasks that they have after the Chapter is to make the various appointments of personnel throughout the Province. That would have meant that, from this week onwards, we would have been waiting by the phone, or expecting a visit, to be consulted on our next move, or on our staying put, depending on the discernment and deliberations of the Curia. The Chapter was scheduled for the 22nd – 26th June in a Retreat and Conference Centre run by the Cross and Passion Sisters at Drumalis in Larne, in the North of Ireland, but, of course, because of the Coronavirus, our Chapter didn’t take place. At present we have re-scheduled for the end of October in a different venue, but it remains to be seen whether easing of lockdown has progressed enough for the Chapter to feasibly take place, even then. So, as in many other things, we are in a kind of in-between place.
 
Of course, it may have been that, instead of being at the end of a phone waiting for a call, at least one of we Passionists in Scotland would have been elected to the Curia and been part of the group entrusted with making the necessary appointments, and therefore making these calls. I have been in that position a number of times before. What usually happens is that, at the end of a Chapter, the new Curia have a diary meeting and set aside a block of days on which to come together and set things in motion. Prior to that the consultation process will take place. When the Curia eventually gets around the table, they will endeavour to put a plan in place to achieve the Chapter priorities, and pencil in a first draft of the men they wish to appoint to the various tasks and locations whom they feel can best bring that plan about. Then it comes time to phone around, and to ask people if they are willing to go here or go there, to do this or do that. If everyone says yes, then the process draws to a close with a huge sigh of relief, but, if even one person says no, there will be a knock-on effect and it’s back to the drawing board. For the most part our men are willing to do what is asked of them, and to accept that this is part and parcel of the life we have chosen, but there can also be good reasons for saying no, and those are listened to with compassion. In the times we live in, there are fewer pieces to move around on the board than there used to be. Our membership is diminishing, and many of those who remain are getting older and frailer. At present there are only 45 religious in the Province, with an average age of 71. There are 9 leadership positions to be filled. Of those in leadership at present, 4 of the 9 are aged 75 or over, while the other 5 are in their mid to late 60’s. There are 6 different communities, and so, providing leadership for the next few years and beyond will not be easy. Can all of our communities and all of our ministries be sustained? We have been blessed in recent years with a few good vocations, and two of those are based in St. Mungo’s. But oh, how we need more of those going forward. So, from this in-between place, I am asking you to pray very hard for Passionist Vocations.
 
Father Gareth has asked me to say how much he misses everyone. Being an Everton supporter, he is trying to be magnanimous about Liverpool winning the English Premiership, but he also likes the way Everton are progressing under Carlo Ancelotti. Father Justinian is improving remarkably since he came out of hospital, and is being well looked after by a plethora of carers and nurses. Father Antony continues to maintain his suntan, and to hone his pastoral skills, having been plunged in at the deep end in unexpected ways since ordination. I have to be nice because I need to ask him for another haircut soon, as I can’t see through my eyebrows at present. Partial church opening is going fine and we look forward to progressing it further soon. So, protect yourselves and your loved ones, and protect Christ in your lives.

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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

1 Comment

 
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

1 Comment

 
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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father frank's log...

28/5/2020

1 Comment

 
FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 24th – 31st MAY 2020
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It’s been a strange kind of week. To cut a long story short, my brother went into hospital yet again last Friday and came out again on Sunday; the post for St. Mungo’s was collected from the depot without fuss in the early hours of Saturday; Father Justinian was taken into hospital on Monday night, tests still ongoing, but tested negative for Coronavirus; I conducted the burial of a 93 year old at St. Conval’s on Tuesday, with just four other people present, but I found it very prayerful just the same; and I celebrated the 19th anniversary of my mum’s death on Wednesday. She died on May 27th, 2001. I had taken over as Rector and Parish Priest of Mount Argus in Dublin at the beginning of that year, and it just so happened that, in Ireland, May 27th was the Solemnity of the Ascension. I had just come off the altar after celebrating the Family Mass when my brother, the one mentioned above, called to say that our mum, whom he lived with and looked after, had died suddenly and unexpectedly that morning. I won’t go into all the details but in the hours I had to sit around with my thoughts, before getting on a plane to Glasgow that night, I found it poignant that, on a day when I was preaching about one kind of presence of Christ coming to an end - his bodily, physical presence; but only to be replaced by another kind of presence - a presence in Spirit; something very similar seemed to be happening with my mum. And while I would have wished to hold on to her bodily, physical presence, her presence in spirit has always seemed very near and very real throughout the years. The Ascension has never been the same since.
 
So, at present, there is only Father Antony and myself at home. It’s hard to believe that, just before lock down, there were five of us in our four-bedroom house in Bishopbriggs, and now, for the time being anyway, there are only two of us. On Tuesday night we celebrated and streamed a Taize style prayer service, inviting those praying with us online to unite with Mary and the Apostles in the upper room, preparing for a fresh outpouring of the Holy Spirit. The music on that night was simple and reflective, but for some of the Masses streamed from the oratory I have found myself using hymns from my old Charismatic Renewal days, mostly because they have catchy melodies and simple words, and are therefore, hopefully, easy for those joining us on the internet to pick up and sing. Whoever sings, prays twice. Afterwards, I sometimes receive e-mails from people, telling me how nostalgic it made them feel, and some of you may remember, back in the late 70’s and early 80’s, there was a thriving charismatic prayer group taking place weekly in St. Paul’s Hall in St. Mungo’s, the grace of the Holy Spirit outpouring all over the place. While it has not been part of my life for many years now, I will always be grateful for my involvement in the renewal from the beginning of my student days, when, because I played guitar, my student directors had me travelling with them to different prayer groups around the country,  until just before my ordination, by which time my prayer life had taken on a more contemplative bent. But I think a new love, excitement, and appreciation for the scriptures, and a vivid awareness of the power of the Holy Spirit in my life, can be traced back to those days, and so they will always be remembered fondly.
 
As mentioned, Father Justinian is at present in hospital; Father Gareth is still in Wales with his mum with not much to report, the Child of Prague is still on the way – perhaps quarantined somewhere for a fortnight; Father Antony is still running around Cadder golf course and keeping touch with his mum on his nightly walks. My life has been a bit scattered as you can see. I had two late nights, one when I fell asleep on the chair while reading a book and woke at 1.00 a.m.; the other when I mistakenly put my towels on a long wash, instead of a short wash, number 5 instead of number 6, and, because we have one of those washing machines which they say can unexpectedly catch fire, I didn’t want to go to bed until the cycle was over and I could turn the machine off, and once again that turned out to be at 1.00 a.m. Fortunately, on  both occasions, I slept well afterwards. What will this week bring?
As always, protect yourself, your loved ones and others, and protect Christ in your life.

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father frank's log...

21/5/2020

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FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 17th – 24th MAY 2020
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Just a wee update on a couple of things from last week. On Saturday morning I left the house in Bishopbriggs at 6.00 a.m. and made my way to the Royal Mail delivery office in Baird Street, after my failed attempt earlier in the week to find out what was happening to our St. Mungo’s post. Even at that hour there was a socially distanced queue forming and I was 5th in the queue. It was a cold morning but I was well wrapped up with my scarf around my mouth to form a mask in obedience to Nicola. At 7.00 a.m. the Customer Service section opened and at around 7.20 a.m. I was allowed in. No sooner had I said I was the parish priest of St. Mungo’s and provided my I.D. than the very pleasant man behind the screen went scurrying off and came back with a huge bundle of post covering the previous 3 weeks. In a brief conversation, mindful of the ever-growing queue outside, I understood that this would be the procedure for the time being until things return to some state of normality. I never discovered why mail was being delivered during the first 4 weeks of lock down and then stopped, but I was just relieved that, when I got the chance to go through it, everything I had been expecting was there, and I was able to update necessary admin. As I left the delivery office the queue was once again stretching  a long way down Baird Street and I felt a pang of sympathy for those whom I knew, from previous experience, would still be in the queue when the doors would be closed at 9.00 a.m. and who would need to come back another day. Still and all, I have reinstated the postal service as recipients of my Thursday night appreciative applause.
 
The previous day I had gone to the QUEH to collect my brother and bring him home. There had been false alarms on Wednesday and Thursday but I was assured that he would be coming home on Friday. After our streamed Mass out at the oratory in Bishopbriggs I drove to the hospital and found a parking space in the number one car park. For some reason I had expected the hospital to be quieter but finding a parking space was as difficult as ever. I discovered that the discharge area I was expecting to go to is now in fact the Covid-19 special assessment and treatment area known as SATA. This must have been where my brother was admitted the previous week. The discharge area is now the main hospital atrium and it was quite chaotic. There were patients, visitors and staff milling around all over the place – some socially distancing, some not; some wearing masks, some not; but the staff both outside and inside were doing a great job with exemplary patience and courtesy to help everyone. When I called the ward as instructed, my brother was ready to go but they were waiting for a porter; then, when the porter arrived, they had to wait for the pharmacist to come and check the newly adjusted medication that was ready for bringing home. I got the impression this could take a while, so I decided to go out and get some fresh air with the staff nurse having promised to call me. I had about an hour’s walk before the call came. Everything was in order but they had to wait for a porter again. Eventually, he was brought down to the atrium and I was able to get him into the car and bring him home. Since then, his home care has been stepped up and, while he is a bit frailer than before he went in, he is glad to be back in his own space. None of this is any way a criticism because, in such difficult times, I am in awe at the amazing job the NHS and other care services are selflessly doing – thank you.
 
We Passionists are still doing okay. I have heard a good bit from Father Gareth this week. His mum is still isolating; he is doing the shopping, and they are minding each other and watching the Soaps. No sign of the Infant of Prague arriving in Merthyr yet. Father Justinian is getting more adventurous in his daily walks, especially now that Colonel Tom is going to be knighted. Father Antony is keeping up the running most days, and of course still drops by his mum’s each night on his walk to have a chat from the garden. My routine is a bit more erratic as you can see from the above, but my evenings are usually relaxed, reading a book or watching old episodes of the West Wing – best series ever – although 24 would run it close.
As always, protect yourself, your loved ones and others, and protect Christ in your life.
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Father Frank's Log...

14/5/2020

1 Comment

 
.FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 10th – 17th MAY 2020
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Just after I posted the log last Thursday I went up to my brother and found him unwell and confused. I phoned the local health centre to ask for advice but the reception had just closed for the public holiday weekend. I phoned the surgery and was told that the doctor was in with her last patient before finishing up for the holiday weekend too, but that she would ask her to phone me back. This she did, and after a brief conversation she kindly offered to come up to the house. After a check-up it was agreed that the best thing was for my brother to go into hospital for a fuller examination. As he was displaying a high temperature, he would have to go through the Covid-19 admission section and be tested for the virus. The doctor phoned the hospital to arrange for admission, and then phoned the ambulance. She offered to stay but I thought she had already been very attentive and so I said we were fine, and that I would be there to wait for the ambulance with him. She reminded me that I would be unable to go in with him, but I already knew that. The ambulance took three hours to come, but I had received a phone call in between to check on his condition, apologising for the delay, and saying how busy they were, but that they would be with us as soon as was possible. When they did come, once again they were extremely kind and reassuring, and soon had him whisked off to the QUEH. As it turns out it’s not the coronavirus, but another infection, and I hope that by the time today is out I will have brought him home. I have to say though, that any time I phoned for an update it was answered immediately and an update given. On three occasions the hospital phoned me before I phoned them, so I just want to pay my own tribute to the health system as I have experienced it on this occasion, and in these troubled times.
 
As I had mentioned last week, I conducted a burial service in the last couple of days, complying with all the usual protocols and restrictions. It took place in a northside cemetery that I couldn’t remember ever being in before, although I could have been, many years ago. I arrived early and went to the No. 1 car park as instructed, to wait for the hearse and the family to arrive. I could see the freshly dug grave nearby, so, as it was a beautiful, sunny day, with blue skies and fluffy clouds, I wandered up to the grave and then decided to take a stroll. I had hardly gone ten steps when the names on a gravestone at the edge of a row caught my eye. It was my aunt, my father’s sister, who was also my godmother, buried alongside her husband and their daughter. I could hardly believe my eyes. I would have been away studying when my aunt died and I wouldn’t have been in Scotland for my uncle and cousin’s funerals either, and I wouldn’t have known where they were buried, so it was an extraordinary providence to come across their grave, and to be able to say a prayer for them.
 
Returning to base, we haven’t received any post here in St. Mungo’s for three weeks now. I have been unable to get any response on a post office help line, either by telephone or online. I went to the local depot where I would normally collect undelivered parcels, but they were only opening from 7am to 9am, excluding Wednesdays and Sundays. This morning I left the house at 7am to give it a go, but the queue was already snaking around the corner and down the road. After about half an hour of little progress the man in front of me asked if this was my first time. I said it was. He then pessimistically said to me, “You’ve no chance”. He went on to explain that the previous Thursday he had queued up for an hour and a half. At 9am, when he was two from the front of the queue, the doors were closed from the inside. Nobody came out to say anything at any stage. He asked if I would mind his place while he went to check if the same thing was going to happen again or had they changed policy. That was the last I saw of him, but, true enough, when 9am came, by which time I was nowhere near the front of the queue, the doors were locked from the inside, no information given, and a big crowd of frustrated people were left outside. Where is our St. Mungo’s post? I will try again tomorrow, perhaps arriving at 6am to be hopefully near the head of the queue. We are all still well, D.G., so continue to protect yourselves and others, and protect Christ in your lives.
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father frank's log...

7/5/2020

3 Comments

 
FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 3rd – 10th MAY 2020

As I write I am aware that the last public Mass celebrated here in St. Mungo’s was seven weeks ago today, on the Feast of St. Joseph, and it is still very difficult to say when the next public Mass will be. Those who join us for the Masses streamed from our oratory in Bishopbriggs each day may have heard me tell of a dream I had last Monday night. I dreamt I was celebrating Mass in St. Mungo’s with a small group of people, well-spaced out as required, when suddenly the doors burst open and a big group of tourists poured in and started to fill up the benches. In a panic I tried to tell them that it could only be two people to a bench, but to no avail. That then segued into a similar dream, and while I am not conscious of being overly anxious about this, it is obviously playing around in my mind as discussions continue between the bishops and the government as to when, and with what restrictions in terms of public safety, our churches might safely open again. It’s not easy.
 
Yesterday I conducted a cremation for one of our parishioners who had died of the virus, but who also had other serious underlying medical conditions. Only 10 people were allowed into the crematorium chapel where the seats had been arranged to comply with current guidelines. Other people gathered outside. Before the service started, I met a neighbouring parish priest who had conducted the service beforehand. He also happens to be my niece’s brother-in-law. It was good to see him and to have a brief exchange on how things were going. Neither of us was stuck for things to do, but at the same time we were longing to be back in our churches. I also heard from another parish priest for whom we had provided cover while he was recovering from surgery at the end of last year. He was kindly enquiring how we were, and in fact we ourselves had been thinking of him and hoping he was able to use the quieter lock-down time to make a fuller recovery. Next week I will have a burial with similar restrictions to the cremation. I was thinking of how each year we have a Mass in November to remember all those who died and were buried or cremated in the previous year, and how important that will be next November to provide an opportunity for families to grieve together, but that’s presuming we are able to gather for Mass by November, which is by no means certain.
 
The latest from Father Gareth is that he and his mum are well and that they are watching a lot of biblical epics on television. Father Gareth loves his old films and I would say he is piling up a few biblical stories, according to Hollywood, to regale us with when he gets back to celebrating Mass in St. Mungo’s. We can’t wait! Getting the shopping in, he says, has become increasingly more difficult as there seem to be fewer and fewer buses in the Valleys, but they are managing. Having praised Father Antony’s hairdressing skills last week, we have been wondering how Father Gareth’s hair is doing as when it gets longer it tends to go very curly, which he doesn’t like, so he may be a bit of an awesome sight at the moment. I have to humbly take back what I said last week about Father Antony’s age and condition, after his first jogging venture, as he is now running much more regularly, even in the hottest of weather, and looking fit and tanned. My own running days are definitely over, but I have been trying to get my walk in most days, even if only to counteract the over-indulgence in chocolate. Father Justinian is trying to keep up his daily garden walk, but he has also discovered a cosy spot at the side of the house where he can sit out in the sun and be sheltered from the breeze, so, as long as the good weather lasts, he will take advantage of that.
 
Meantime, we continue streaming our daily Masses from the oratory and, during Eastertide, we hope to provide a couple of special services. One will be a Service of Reconciliation, incorporating an act of perfect contrition, as we know people are still concerned about not getting to Confession. The other will be a Taize-style prayer focussing on Mary, praying with the disciples in the upper room, waiting for Pentecost. We hope you can join us. As always, protect yourselves, protect your loved ones and others, and protect Christ in your lives.
3 Comments

father frank's log...

30/4/2020

1 Comment

 
FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 26th APRIL – 3rd MAY 2020
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Last night I was the priest on call for the Glasgow Royal Infirmary. This was the third time I had been on call since lockdown began, and conditions for attending patients became severely restricted. I never sleep well when I’m on call, there is a part of me that is always expecting the pager to go off and I don’t want to miss it, even though it sounds very loudly and not hearing it would be highly unlikely. Last night there were no calls, nor the time before, but on the first night of lockdown I was called out in the wee hours of the morning and, as it turned out, it was to attend the sister of a long-time friend of mine. I anointed her and she died a few hours later. When the funeral eventually took place my friend and his wife were in isolation and he could only watch as the hearse drove past the window of his house for him to pay last respects to his dear sister. Strange times, and sad times too, in such cases.
 
I have added to my routine in the past ten days or so. Until now I have been mostly at home in Bishopbriggs, alternating with Father Antony to celebrate the lunchtime Mass streamed on YouTube. I go into the church most days to put some heating on for a while, check the post, do essential administration, and celebrate Mass, on the days when I am not saying the house Mass. I then head out to Drumchapel to attend to my vulnerable brother, and then back to Bishopbriggs for a quiet evening. I have now added a daily walk to my routine. Mostly I do this along the Forth and Clyde Canal, varying the direction in which I walk. One day, however, I took my walk in the Glasgow Necropolis next to St. Mungo’s Cathedral. Whenever I walk in the Necropolis I think of an old lady, some years ago, who told one of our Passionist priests who was visiting her in the Royal that, each night, she would look out of her window at the statue of the Sacred Heart in the cemetery, and pray her rosary. The statue of the Sacred Heart she was referring to was in fact John Knox. There is a lovely irony to that. On this occasion I took a lower path I hadn’t followed before and came upon the Jewish Enclosure with graves from 1832-55. The plot contains a number of adults, but also many children and stillborn infants. The inscription on the stone was the text that we listen to on the Feast of the Holy Innocents, when St. Matthew cites the prophet Jeremiah: A voice was heard in Ramah; sobbing and loudly lamenting; it was Rachel weeping for her children; refusing to be comforted, because they were no more. I found this deeply moving.
 
Father Justinian recently had a variation to his isolation when he received a call from Stobhill to attend for his Warfarin check. He had assumed that, because of his 89 years, this would be cancelled but, in the absence of any communication requiring him to shield, he was told to come. I think he enjoyed getting out for a bit, but now it’s back to walking in the garden. I suggested he do a Captain Tom and raise a few million, but he declined. Father Antony decided one day to go out for a long run. Next day he was soaking his aching muscles in a bath – he’s not as young and fit as he used to be. He did, however, reveal a talent for cutting hair. For some unknown reason, his mum had given him a gift of hair clippers some years ago, and so, Father Justinian and myself were happy to place our trust in him, and let him give us a trim. He made a very good job of it. So, thanks to him and thanks to his mum, whom he still speaks to from the garden on his nightly walks. Father Gareth and his mum are still doing okay down in the Valleys. I had an email from someone in the Czech Republic who wanted to send them a statue of the Infant of Prague. It turns out Father Gareth knew this person from his volunteer days, and so he was happy that I give her his mum’s address. So, the Infant of Prague is on his way, perhaps from Prague, to Merthyr Tydfil. The original statue was a Royal Wedding gift, and it can still make an appearance at Irish Catholic weddings where it is considered a good luck omen if the head falls off; it can also be put out in the open to solicit good weather. I remember this happening at our Retreat House in Crossgar before the annual garden fete - it didn’t always work though.
As always, protect yourselves; protect loved ones and others, and protect Christ in your life.

1 Comment

father frank's log...

23/4/2020

1 Comment

 
FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 19th – 26th APRIL 2020
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On Monday of this week I watched a recording of the BBC Scotland documentary, Priest School, which I had been unable to watch when it was shown the previous evening. For this documentary the BBC were given rare access, by the Scottish Conference of Bishops, to the inner workings, personnel, seminarians, and history of the Scots College in Rome which, as it so happens, is the oldest Scottish institution abroad, dating back to its foundation in 1600. The programme followed part of the formation and faith journey of the class of 2018/2019, with a special focus on five of the seminarians at differing stages in their studies, one who was only in his first year, and one in his seventh year, nearing the end. The culmination of the documentary was when the most senior of the students, who had featured prominently throughout, the one in seventh year, came home to be ordained at St. Thomas’ in Wishaw.
 
I’m not going to give a running commentary on the programme as I’m sure many of you watched it, or are intending to watch it on playback. It was well promoted in the various diocese, and in the Catholic media, both at the time it was being made, and in the lead up to it being shown. The first thing I want to say is well done to the Bishop’s Conference for allowing it, and well done to the college staff and the seminarians for taking part, it was a really courageous thing to do in these difficult times for the church. A number of the seminarians are known to us here in St. Mungo’s as, when they come home for a break, and they are all home at this time because of the Coronavirus, they would sometimes appear in our church, perhaps to celebrate the Sacrament of Reconciliation, or say a prayer, or attend Mass. Of course, they are not able to do any of those things at present either. But we have come to know them as good men of faith, and we would remember them often in our prayers.
I have to confess that I watched the programme with a certain trepidation as there is always a fear that the church might be caricatured in media presentation, and not really shown in a good light. However, I have to say well done to BBC Scotland also, as I felt it was presented very well, and very sympathetically, with Daniela Nardini narrating beautifully. I was struck by the audience the seminarians had with Pope Francis during the Scottish Bishop’s Ad Limina visit in 2018. The first-year student had only arrived a few days before and couldn’t believe his luck. Archbishop Tartaglia remarked on how much of his time Pope Francis had given them, in no hurry it seemed, even to go for his lunch, while the Archbishop himself was getting a bit ravenous. The seminarians spoke warmly of this encounter and I hope that is something they carry forward with them, together with an appreciation of where Pope Francis is trying to lead the church, in faithfulness to Christ and to the Gospel, despite opposition.
 
The scenes in the college itself, and in the Gregorian University, brought back memories of my own time in Rome,1982-83, when I was doing my diaconate year in preparation for my own ordination. I too studied at the Gregorian University and was warmly welcomed by the easily recognised, purple-clad Scots College students, and, while I myself was living in the Passionist monastery of Saints John and Paul, near to the Colosseum, I was frequently invited out to the Scots College for a bite to eat, to watch Celtic videos, and to take part in a few kick-abouts with the students. I was glad to see that football continues to play a part in seminary life. I enjoyed one of the lads who was still holding on to his season ticket for Celtic Park, even though he could only manage about three games a year, because the seat was too good to give up. I’m sure family and friends are benefitting from his ticket the rest of the time. I was also invited to some of the feast day celebrations mentioned in the programme and remember the staff and the students as being excellent hosts. Fond memories indeed.
 
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, no great change to life in Bishopbriggs. Our routine remains the same and we are all, thank God, keeping fine. Fr. Gareth and his mum remain well in the Valleys. So, remember, protect yourselves, protect others, and protect Christ in your lives.

1 Comment

father frank's log...

16/4/2020

1 Comment

 
FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 12th – 19th APRIL 2020
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Easter Sunday is come and gone, but Easter is far from over. Often, people who have made a great effort to get daily Mass during Lent, this year mostly online, see Easter Sunday as the culmination of that journey, and yet the Octave of Easter, and indeed the whole Easter Season, gives us the chance to deepen our faith in the Lord’s Resurrection, and to be transformed from within by the Spirit of the Risen Christ who dwells within us. So, by all means, start consuming chocolate again, or whatever else you may have given up, but don’t give up on Mass too soon, especially as the continuing lockdown provides a rare opportunity.
While we were able to celebrate daily Masses, and provide other services on the internet during Holy Week, Father Antony and I celebrated the Sacred Triduum, just the two of us, in an empty St. Mungo’s church, where unfortunately we have no streaming facility, but holding the thought and the image of all you in the pews before us. You may have seen on the news that a church in the Philippines put photographs of their parishioners on the pews to keep them in mind and heart. We didn’t do that, but we felt your presence with us all the same.
 
Out at the house, in our oratory, we streamed a Service of Healing and Reconciliation on the Tuesday of Holy Week, incorporating the act of perfect contrition which is the instruction for receiving forgiveness of sins at this time, being unable to celebrate Sacramental Confession. In the afternoon of Holy Thursday, we streamed a Taize Prayer Service with a reflection for that day, something we repeated on Good Friday and Holy Saturday. That night we also streamed a Holy Hour, watching one hour with Jesus in the Garden. For the Holy Thursday Mass of the Last Supper, in the empty church, Father Antony was the main celebrant. There was no washing of the feet, but he reminded me that last Holy Thursday, after I had washed his feet, and proclaimed them the biggest feet I had ever seen in my life, I then told him that it would be his turn this year, as he would by then be ordained a priest. But he needn’t think his turn has come and gone. Please God, he will be washing feet next Holy Thursday.
 
On Good Friday we had a reading of St. John’s Passion after our Good Friday Taize Prayer, and then we came in to the empty church for the Good Friday Service. Again, we read St. John’s Passion, followed by the Good Friday intercessions, including a special intercession in light of the Coronavirus. We then carried the cross through the church to the altar and venerated the cross. Again, while still just the two of us, it seemed very moving and poignant. That night, back at the house, we streamed the Seven Last Words from the Cross, Fr Antony and I alternating with reflections on each word in turn, a great Passionist tradition. On Holy Saturday night Father Antony and I celebrated the Easter Vigil in the church, blessing and lighting the paschal candle; recounting salvation history through the readings; singing the Easter Alleluia and proclaiming the Easter Gospel; renewing our Baptism promises and celebrating the Holy Eucharist, again holding each of you before us as we did so. On Easter Sunday we streamed the Easter Mass of the Day from the oratory at 12 noon. It may have been the strangest Holy Week ever, but there was still something very prayerful and poignant about it, and we felt a deep connection with all who celebrated with us on the internet, and were quite astounded at the numbers of people who logged in to join us.
 
Throughout Easter, for as long as lockdown lasts, we will continue to stream Mass each day from the oratory at 12.15pm (7pm on a Sunday); but Mass will also be celebrated quietly in the church on most days. The lockdown routine remains the same for Fr Justinian, Fr Antony and myself. We have seen more of our neighbours than usual and they have been kind in their condolences regarding Fr Lawrence, and in their offer of help of any kind should we need it, an offer we have also gratefully received from parishioners. Fr Gareth has recovered from his sore throat and blocked nose and is discovering new routes to walk in Merthyr Tydfil. So, as always, protect yourselves, protect others, and protect Christ in your life, through prayer.

1 Comment

father frank's log...

9/4/2020

1 Comment

 
FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 5th – 12th APRIL 2020
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The early part of April this year has commemorated a couple of landmark anniversaries for me and my family. On 1st April 2000 I conducted the wedding of my niece, so this year marked their 20th anniversary. I’m ashamed to say I forgot about it, initially, and then belatedly contacted her to offer the two of them my congratulations. It was a memorable day and it was the last family gathering that my mother attended before she passed away the following year. The father of the bride, my famous, or infamous brother, the doyen of Scottish sport’s journalists as I like to call him, is still in lockdown with his beloved wife, but using social media he was able to get a lovely Italian meal, complimented by good wine, sent to his daughter and son-in-law, from Massimo’s Restaurant in Bearsden, so that they could celebrate. I am also writing this log on Holy Wednesday, and this marks the 60th anniversary of my father’s death. On the morning of Friday 8th April 1960, the Friday before the beginning of Holy Week that year, two policemen came to our door at 5 Thurso Street in Partick, to inform my mother that her husband, who was working away in Consett at the time, in the steel works, having been made redundant from the shipyards, had collapsed and died on his way to work earlier that very day. It’s hard to believe that 60 years have passed since then. My brothers and I were 6, 8 and 10 years of age at the time. Our mother was 40.
 
In the meantime, we, the Passionists, have settled into a different pattern of life, and this now includes streaming some Masses and Services from the oratory of our Passionist community house in Bishopbriggs. Unfortunately, we are not able to do it from the church as we don’t have proper streaming facilities, but people who have been able to log in seem to enjoy the intimacy of the smaller space, while still of course longing for our return to St. Mungo’s. We are also being joined by people from Ireland and also from other countries, Italy, Spain and Singapore included. There has been the odd technical glitch but, for the most part, it has gone quite smoothly. The actual oratory in our house is very small and wouldn’t have been at all suitable, and so, for the time being, we have converted Father Lawrence’s room into a sacred space and that is where we stream from. Father Lawrence continues to make his presence felt. While we were streaming our Service of Healing and Reconciliation on Holy Tuesday night, just as Father Antony prepared to proclaim the first reading, a telephone sounded. We cast accusatory glances at each other, wondering who was daft enough to leave their phone on, and then we realised that, from behind a curtain concealing a book case, it was actually Father Lawrence’s phone that was sounding. Father Antony quickly turned it off and we resumed the service. Afterwards I tried to redial the number but it appeared to be withheld.
 
Tonight, Holy Wednesday, our Passionist Young Team are going to pray the Stations of the Cross online. With Father Gareth away, I took the unlikely step of joining Facebook so as to support Father Antony in contact with the young people in any way that I could. As an avowed technophobe, however, I had no idea what this actually entailed, and I got a bit panicky when my mailbox filled up with all these friend requests, hundreds of them, some from very good people I knew, but mostly from people I’ve never heard of in my life. I have decided, therefore, that after the Stations of the Cross this night I am going to un-subscribe, or whatever it is you do, as I don’t really see myself becoming a social media buff - a night in with a good book seems much more appealing. Otherwise, Father Gareth is still in Wales, with a bit of a sore throat at present, and a blocked nose, so it’s really his mum that’s looking after him now and not vice-versa. Father Antony maintains his evening walks, still stopping at his mum’s house; I continue to provide daily care for my brother who has now received his letter from the Prime Minister, although, vulnerable as he is, he might be in better shape than poor Boris at the moment; and lastly, Father Justinian, who today celebrates his 89th birthday, continues his house isolation, with an occasional walk in the garden. So, have a truly blessed Easter; as always, protecting yourselves and others, and protecting Christ in your lives
1 Comment

Father frank's log...

2/4/2020

4 Comments

 
FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 29th MARCH – 5th APRIL 2020
Over the past few years I have tended to view my Log as a light hearted journal of mostly mundane happenings, both past and present, designed to reveal, for me at least, but I believe also for everyone, how God is present, and there to be found, in the ordinariness of everyday life, in the routine things, people and events that make up the quotidian existence of most of us. I would actually be quite surprised at the number of people, and even the variety of people, who would tell me they regularly read it and enjoy it, and even more surprised that now and again someone takes the time to send me a comment. It is really quite humbling.
 
This past couple of weeks though, the Log has taken on another dimension, with readership increasing and the number of comments multiplying. It seems that, in some simple way, this is because of a felt need and longing, as family of faith, unable to gather with each other in the usual way, to really know how we are all getting on in these extraordinary and even frightening times. People seem to appreciate knowing how life is for us as a Passionist community in this time of lockdown, how we are functioning each day, and how does that compare with how life is for each of you at this time too. Somehow it brings us closer together in a shared experience and concern for each other while holding each other in prayer.
 
Since last week’s Log Father Lawrence has been laid to rest. It took place last Friday 28th March. Just eight family members plus myself and Father Antony were present. At our Passionist plot in St. Kentigern’s, Lawrence was placed in the same layer as Father Anthony Behan and Father Eustace Cassidy. In a letter I had received from a Cross and Passion Sister who had worked with Lawrence in Botswana, at the mission in Tsabong, way out in the Kalahari Desert, she had enclosed a packet containing some sand from that part of the desert. After the coffin was lowered and the initial prayers said, I poured this sand into the grave as we recalled that we are dust, and unto dust we must return. It seemed appropriate to do that.
 
Since last week also, we have managed to find a way of streaming Masses and other services, not from the church, but from the oratory at our house in Bishopbriggs. So far, so good. We stream Mass at 12.15pm Monday to Saturday, and at 7pm on a Sunday. Holy Week will be different so keep an eye on the website to know what’s happening, and when. We still celebrate in the church and keep an eye on things. Antony and I alternate the streamed Masses and, last Tuesday, when I was in at the church, I tuned in and heard Antony preach a lovely homily on the Mysterium Iniquitatis (the mystery of sin). He then finished Mass with a bit of Swahili. I was reminded of a quiz show I sometimes listen to in bed on BBC Radio 4 on a Saturday night. It’s called the 3rd Degree and in it, University Dons take on their students. One of the rounds is called Highbrow, Lowbrow as, on any given topic, the competitors can choose to try and answer a really intelligent question or a very simple question. As someone who just about manages in English, I was thinking that our daily Masses may be Highbrow, Lowbrow, one day Antony, the next day me, with no prizes for guessing which is which. Seriously, though, it was a really fine homily he preached, but don’t tell him I said that!
 
Father Justinian stays at home as advised; I make my daily trips to my brother to provide essential care; while Father Antony goes out for an evening walk as his daily exercise, often stopping at the back door of his mother’s house and speaking to her from the safety of the garden. Father Gareth remains in Wales. Commenting on last Sunday’s Gospel of the raising of Lazarus, he told me that his mother shared with him that she believed that Martha knew Jesus would find a way out of the tomb for her brother, just as he will find a way out of this crisis for us who trust in him at all times. Who needs theologians? Thank you, Gareth’s mum.
 
So; keep safe and well everybody, protect yourselves, protect others, and protect Christ in your lives through prayer, and why not do that together with us in our streaming service?
4 Comments

Father Frank's Log...

26/3/2020

9 Comments

 
FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 22nd – 29th MARCH 2020
To anyone who reads this, I hope you are keeping safe and well, and adhering to the advice we have received on how to keep the coronavirus at bay. Each of us will find the way to do this appropriate to our own personal circumstances. We can’t take chances as we seek to express our solidarity with each other, to protect ourselves, to protect our loved ones, to protect other people, and, as Pope Francis once said, to protect Christ in our lives.
 
As far as my own personal circumstances are concerned, I am living in a kind of semi-isolation. I come into the church from Bishopbriggs each day, completely empty except for the presence of the Lord in the tabernacle. I celebrate Mass, placing all of you on the altar, and maintain a watchful check on the place. I am reminded of when I used to sit in the empty church as a child, this was in St. Simon’s in Partick, while my father did some maintenance work in the boiler house. I was always fascinated by the sanctuary lamp and by what it signified, that Christ was present in the Blessed Sacrament. I would look at the tabernacle and imagine that this must be what my soul looked like inside of me, because I believed Christ was present there too. It was only my child-like imagination, but it was very real to me.
 
After making sure I have kept any essential administration up to date, I then leave to go and cook and clean for my younger brother. I am allowed to do this as he is a vulnerable person and I am his primary carer. The other carers who were coming called me to cancel for the foreseeable future as they were only doing life and limb care, as they expressed it, and so they asked if I could compensate for their absence, and I will do everything I can to sustain that.
 
I have only had to do one shopping for my brother so far as his needs are very simple, taking care to keep a safe distance from other shoppers as advised. I haven’t had any problem getting the things I need for him, no need for panic buying, and I even managed to get four toilet rolls. While his medication is delivered, I did have to go and collect some repeat medication for myself, forming part of an orderly and well spaced-out queue on the main street in Bishopbriggs, while only two or three people at a time were let in to the pharmacy. It was all done in a good spirit, and I think I am well stocked now for the next couple of months. I also had some minor surgery cancelled which I have to confess did not upset me one bit as I wasn’t looking forward, either to the procedure itself, or to what I was meant to do to prepare for it – I will leave it up to your own imagination to guess what it was.
 
I have also had to make preparations for Father Lawrence’s funeral, choosing the coffin, selecting the grave to be opened in our Passionist plot in St. Kentigern’s, and putting together whatever kind of service it is possible to have for the small number of blood family and Passionist family who are able to gather. Sometime in the future, when this crisis is over, we will have a memorial Mass for Father Lawrence as there are so many people who are saddened by his death, a sadness heightened by not being able to say a proper farewell.
 
Out at the house there are now just three of us; Fr Justinian, Fr Antony and myself. Fr Gareth managed to get away before the lockdown to be with his mum in Merthyr Tydfil, probably the best place for him to be at this time. We are practicing safe distancing within the house and finding new ways of being together, new ways of reaching out to the sick and housebound, and new ways of keeping the Passionist Young Team in contact with each other, one of whom organised a shared prayer time through a video conferencing site called Zoom. So, we are all doing whatever we can, and perhaps, instead of isolation, we can talk about solitude, a tried and tested practice in the Christian tradition that can draw us into a deep communion with God and with one another. Let us hold each other in prayer at this time.
 
God is preparing a treasure of graces and blessings for you in solitude (St. Paul of the Cross)
9 Comments

Father Frank's Log...

19/3/2020

6 Comments

 
FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 15th – 22nd MARCH 2020
​
On the same day I had to announce to people that all public Masses in Scotland were suspended until further notice, I also had to announce the death of Father Lawrence Byrne CP, a member of our Passionist community here at St. Mungo’s. It was a real double-whammy for people, like a double bereavement, the loss of not being able to gather for the Eucharist, the source and summit of our Christian lives, for God only knows how long; and the loss of a man who was a much loved preacher and confessor, and whose kind and gentle approach endeared him to so many folk who will grieve at the thought of never seeing or hearing him again. I don’t think he realized how much loved he was, perhaps people didn’t tell him enough, but they certainly told us.
 
Lawrence was born in Irvine during the 2nd World War. On his birth certificate his father is described as an explosives’ worker. Lawrence himself qualified as an electrician but then joined the Passionists in his early 20’s and made his 1st Religious Profession on 8th March 1964. He spent many years in Botswana as a Passionist Brother but in the mid-1970’s he decided to return home and study for priesthood. That meant we were students together in Dublin and during that time Lawrence was persuaded by his confreres to come out of sporting retirement to take up his position as a goalkeeper when we were struggling to put a team together for the Seminary League, and a fine goalkeeper he was too. He was the original Holy Goalie. Lawrence loved his football and especially he loved Glasgow Celtic. Before he joined the Passionists he had attended Celtic’s famous 7-1 victory over Rangers in the 1957 League Cup Final, and his account of that day was submitted and included in Pat Woods’ book recalling that memorable event, “Oh! Hampden in the Sun”.
 
During one of our Seminary League games in the late 1970’s, when Lawrence was in goals and I was playing Right Back, I took a knock on the leg making a pass-back and I shouted to him not to throw the ball back out to me. Unfortunately, he did, and I made a poor clearance from which the opposition scored. He was not a happy goalie. Forty years later I was driving from Bishopbriggs to St. Mungo’s with Lawrence in the passenger seat and, believe me, he was not a good passenger. Turning into Baird Street I made a manoeuvre which Lawrence didn’t appreciate. He turned to me with a glare and said to me through gritted teeth; “You’re as bad a driver as you were a Right Back” – some things are never forgotten. Of course, Lawrence himself was a notoriously slow driver. When Father Pat Rogers was in St. Mungo’s preaching the Novena of Hope in September 2017, Lawrence gave him a lift to the Passionist Retreat Centre at Minsteracres in County Durham where Pat was due to give a seminar. As Pat describes it; “It was a long, slow journey, for Larry was reluctant to bypass any other vehicle no matter how slowly it was travelling. It took me about six minutes to persuade him to pass a tractor, on a long, straight stretch of road, 30 miles East of Carlisle”.
Lawrence was diagnosed with an aggressive Cancer a few months after that, in December 2017. The next two years and more were an extraordinary journey of courage and determination. Time and again, just when you thought he had reached the end, he would somehow rally and say that he was fit for a Public Mass and could help with Confessions. He loved ministry because he loved people and he just wanted to keep getting back to it for as long as he was able, and the people were always delighted to see him reappear. His last appearances in St. Mungo’s were for Father Antony’s ordination and to concelebrate at one of Antony’s first Masses. In truth, he wasn’t able, but he was so determined to be there. His last outing was when Antony drove him down to Irvine to see his ailing sister, a much more mellow passenger at this stage. He saw her and came home, and his sister, Catherine, died the very next day, as if she had waited to see him before she let go. As I write, Catherine is still awaiting burial, and on Wednesday Lawrence passed away in the Marie Curie Hospice. RIP.
.
6 Comments

father frank's log...

7/3/2020

0 Comments

 
FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 1st – 8th MARCH 2020
​
Following on from last week’s desert experiences, I was remembering this week, with Transfiguration Sunday approaching, a few of my mountaintop experiences. I used to be a keen hillwalker, not so much a mountain climber. I haven’t done much in recently, but I have certainly appreciated, down through the years, that sense of awe and wonder, and that bigger, more wholesome perspective, when things are viewed from above, rather than from below. You can get too close to stuff sometimes, and it’s good to find a way of rising upwards, physically or metaphorically, to be able to see more clearly.
Of course, on my one and only pilgrimage to the Holy Land that I mentioned last week, almost 30 years ago, there were some profound mountaintop experiences. We did, in fact, go to Mount Tabor, the scene of the Transfiguration; we also went to the Mount of Olives from where Jesus ascended, and also from where Jesus, very movingly, wept over Jerusalem. We celebrated Mass on the Mountain of the Beatitudes on which Jesus delivered the Sermon on the Mount and multiplied the loaves and fishes. And, of course, we stood on the hill of Calvary on which Jesus was crucified, even if it is now covered by the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. Whether or not any of these were the exact spots where these events took place didn’t really matter, there was no doubting the deeply spiritual effect they had on me.
During my trip to Botswana, where I had my Kalahari Desert experience. I also climbed the Hill of Kgale, the highest point in the country, which wasn’t too far from our novitiate house. The path up the hill was fairly non-descript and would have been very difficult to follow, except that every now and again helpful arrows had been painted on to rocks or tree stumps to guide would be climbers. Most of the ascent was through heavy growth and only at the top did the terrain open out into a beautiful vista of the surrounding land, which was as flat as a pancake save for this Hill of Kgale. I spent some time at the top of the hill, thinking and praying. There wasn’t another soul around. Like Tabor, it was good to be there. Eventually I decided to make my way back down again. By now it was about 4.00pm and I knew that at 6.00pm it would get dark and the baboons, having made their way down the hill at sunrise, would be streaming back up again at sunset. I had often watched them do this, and listened to the strange, and almost fearsome barking sound of them from a safe distance.
At some point in my descent I realised I had lost the path. At first, I didn’t panic, but when my attempts to find it again kept bringing me to dead ends, my anxiety level began to rise. I had heard that when you got lost on a mountain the best way to go is up, and so I began to create my own path towards the top again. Insects didn’t bother me, but when a few grass snakes slithered across my path I began to fear encountering something bigger and more deadly. Still I kept climbing. I then saw some weird creatures I had never come across before. They were about the size of a small dog with thick, tight, brown fur. Thankfully they scampered away from me, rather than towards me. I later discovered they were rock rabbits. At the back of my mind I’m thinking of meeting these baboons coming home for the night, and how they would take to meeting me in their path. All the unheeded warnings I’d received about how stupid it was to go climbing on my own came flooding back to me. The prayer to my guardian angel popped into mind and I prayed it fervently. Suddenly, and unexpectedly, I caught sight of a white arrow. Somehow, by coincidence or providence, I had stumbled across the path again. My heart leapt with sheer relief. I took a deep breath, whispered a prayer of thanks, and painstakingly began to follow the arrows in reverse towards the bottom. Much as it was good to rise above the earth, I was never so glad to reach level ground again.
The One who comes from above is above all. The one who is from the earth belongs to the earth and speaks as one from the earth. The One who comes from heaven is above all.            (John 3:31)
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