Fr. Mark Knowles, a priest of the Leeds diocese, died on 18 September 2013, after a brief illness. He was important for us in Leyland and Ampleforth Abbey, for various reasons. Firstly, (as Fr. Ignatius), he had been a monk of Ampleforth Abbey for 30 years, and Fr. Stephen was roughly his contemporary in the novitiate – always a bonding time for monks; secondly, he served here in Leyland, with Fr. Rupert Everest as Parish Priest, in the 1980’s. Thirdly, he had been very important in my life as a young monk. As a young man in the monastery, called Brother Jonathan, it was not always an easy time for me. The greatest difficulty was loneliness and feeling misunderstood, despite living in a lively community of young contemporaries and older men. Ignatius was someone a little older and more experienced, to whom I could release these ‘demons’, and have them, quietly and gently cast aside, as I came to realise that here was a very good friend.

Fr. Mark Knowles, born 18 January 1935, died 18 September 2013

On Wednesday 2 October, the feast of the Holy Angels, I was able to witness the work of angels. Our Parish Mass, at 9.00 am, was offered for the feast of the Guardian Angels, and our challenge then was, that by 11.00 am, Fr. Stephen Wright and I, from Leyland, were to be at St. Joseph’s Church, in Pudsey, for the funeral of Fr. Mark. The ‘Sat Nav’ indicated it would take 75 minutes to journey from Leyland. We left at about 9.50 am and so I was dubious we would arrive in time. In the event, the M61 was marked as being slow moving, so we went by different route, and, without any dangerous driving, it must be said, we did not dawdle. We arrived on the dot of eleven o’ clock – how I am not quite sure – were the angels clearing the way?

On arrival, our first ‘concrete’ angel appeared. The Church was beside us, but there was nowhere to park, except down a nearby side street. As I pulled up to let Fr. Stephen out, and join the concelebrating priests, a man appeared from a house on the road, and said: “Hello Father, I know all the priests in St. Joseph’s and if you park here you are certain to obtain a ticket from the traffic wardens as it is residents’ only. But tell you what! I will let you have my resident’s permit for guests.” I thanked him profusely, but then asked him a further favour. “Would you let me visit your bathroom and have a wash and brush up?” His reply: “Of course Father”, and I ran into his house, as two elderly ladies eyed me up from one of the rooms at the side; I took the stairs, two at a time, forgetting in my haste whether I had my alb to concelebrate Mass with me or not …. and, I just made it, across the way to a parish hall, where a kind lady – another ‘angel’ – was just locking the door on all the priests’ jackets and bags. Thus, I got to the Church on time, and I thanked God for sending me one angel after another, on this great feast day!

We then experienced a quite astonishing Service, full of joy and happiness in the funeral of Fr. Mark, (always known to us in the monastery as Fr. Ignatius). It was a purely divine moment; the angels were also there, along with Jesus and Mary, and many saints. The church was packed with priests and people; Bishop David Konstant, the Bishop Emeritus of Leeds was there; he had no role other than to concelebrate and his humility impressed me. I chatted to him later and he was so friendly and affable. Fr. Theodore Young (resident with us in the Leyland Priory house) considers Bishop David his friend as he was his Bishop when Fr. Theo served in Knaresborough. Bishop David also confided that he used to teach our Abbot Cuthbert Madden when he was 14 years old – another angel!

The congregation from different parts of the diocese, lay and priestly, included a good ‘scattering’ of former pupils of Ampleforth College, also good friends of Fr. Mark (Fr. Ignatius).  I was to find out that Fr. Mark had been a friend of all; in his life, many confided in him, laity of all types, inadequate young people, revered priests and others. All were so pleased – even eager – to be present and give their particular friend a farewell fitting for him. In my mind’s eye, it was a congregation very like that of the Early Church, described by St Paul as “saints”. The liturgy was simple, inclusive, prayerful and devout, with lovely singing by a cantor, leading without any pretensions.

 Fr. Richard Carter, Parish Priest of St Joseph’s, Pudsey

At the beginning of Mass there was an appreciation of Fr. Mark, by Fr. Richard Carter, the parish priest of St. Joseph’s Pudsey, who, as a layman, had been with Fr. “Ignatius”, as he was then, here in Leyland. They remained good friends all their lives. He explained:

“Mark’s father was a Brigadier General in World War II and Mark often looked back with pride on his dad’s achievements.  Mark’s family sent him off aged just seven, in 1942, to Gilling Castle, the preparatory school for Ampleforth.  At that time his family were living in the Welsh valleys.  Mark used to say he left for school speaking with a strong Welsh accent and returned at Christmas saying ‘Hello, Mummy’ in his decadent ‘Radio 3′ voice, as he used to call it.  There are just so many stories to tell of his exploits in Gilling and Ampleforth. He ran away from Gilling with another friend, and was found in the evening of the same day. Also, aged 10, he was studying books on Antique Furniture, and he pre-dated ‘Harry Potter’ with his two pet owls, ‘Aristotle’ and ‘Plato’.

Mark always wanted to be a priest – even from an early age. His uncle, Gervase, a monk in the abbey, persuaded him to enter the monastery taking the religious name of Ignatius.   He was later ordained priest on the 28th July 1965.  Mark often reflected, with no blame on the monastery, that this decision to become a monk was a mistake.  He later managed to undo the mistake, by being incardinated as a secular priest, in the Leeds Diocese, and he felt he had come home then to his real vocation to be a priest.

Everyone here will remember something special about Mark’s character – from his dry wit to his charm; above all, from his compassion, to his love for all things and for people.  He was also the only person I have met in life that could ask you to do something for him, yet make you feel he had done you a favour.”

I wonder how many people in Leyland can remember Fr. Mark, in this vein, from those few years he was here in the 1980’s?

Fr. Simon Lodge, another good friend of Fr. Mark’s, preached a beautiful homily in which he pointed out the spiritual background to the greatness of this loving priest. His words sprang from an awareness of Fr. Mark, of his own weaknesses, and his own demons. He knew his need for God and his love. Fr. Simon explained that Fr. Mark had, in some ways, the single-minded compassion of the Curé d’Ars, a saint that Fr. Mark admired. But, also, he had the gift of creating friendships and so was likened to St. Aelred of Rievaulx, the medieval English Cistercian, who wrote a famous treatise: “De Amicitia” (“About Friendship”), and whose abbey, Rievaulx, was well known to Fr. Mark, as its impressive ruins are only 5 miles or so from Ampleforth Abbey.

Fr. Mark also had a breadth of mind and heart, which was described by Fr. Richard Carter as follows:

“Mark had too many interests. He would draw you into the joys of reading, collecting memorabilia, music, art and his garden, just to mention a few.  He had a great love of plants and animals, and had an innate ability to communicate with them. I remember, one summer, a bird accidentally flew into the house and ‘froze’, on the floor with his big German Shepherd dog, ready to deal with this unwanted intruder.  Mark gently moved onto the floor, held out a finger for the bird to climb on and released it out of the window.  Mark had that kind of affinity with all living things.

In later life, he became interested in Buddhist teachings and, in particular, found a new prayer-life, in the art of meditation.  He reflects, in his diary – shortly before his death – how this brought him great consolation.  Also in retirement, he could pursue in more depth, his constant quest for knowledge and wisdom. He was a great one for jotting down extracts from great writers, writers that, he thought, captured the essence of life and existence, and he would burn with excitement, to share these finds with you.  His constant thirsting quest is summed up in a simple jotting from the Book of Ecclesiastes that he recently recorded: ‘No man can say his eyes have had enough of seeing, his ears enough of hearing’.”

Our time at his funeral was brought to a conclusion with a beautiful lunch, to which we three Ampleforth monks were invited by the Vicar General of the Leeds Diocese.  From all that I heard, it was evident that those of the diocesan priests felt Fr. Mark had been one of their most remarkable priests, from all down their history, and were filled with gratitude for the gift they felt they had received from the monastery of Ampleforth. At the same time, and as commented on above, Fr. Mark had felt that he had discovered his true vocation and happiness – that he was ‘at home’ – in the Leeds Diocese. With no attempt to put Fr. Mark onto a pedestal, I can say that, probably, he was carried up to God, by many angels – and deservedly so.

“Well done good and faithful servant, enter into the joy of your Lord.”

Father Jonathan