At the end of the year, the newspapers and TV networks offer a review of key events from the past twelve months. In yesterday’s edition of the Wall Street Journal, for example, the two top pictures feature a new President and Pope (you know which ones), while below were images of the aftermath of the Los Angeles fires, a Ukrainian machine-gunner, and the founder of Nvidia signing his autograph in South Korea (note to sub-editor: there were more interesting things going on in 2025 than a man signing his name). My favorite image is of a newly married couple kissing in church - with water up to their knees, as the church was flooded.

I will remember 2025 as the year I retired, although I continue to work as a Sunday (and Christmas Eve) supply priest. This was also the year I published Blessed by God, of which I am proud. It is a labor of love to write and publish a book. I want to thank all of you who have responded to my scribblings, both online and in print. By the way, for all of you film buffs out there, check out my review of the movie Train Dreams, which can be found on my blog at https://davidberesford.net/blog/train-dreams-20

Yesterday I rediscovered a book - More Musings from Malden by Richard Farquharson - which has a chapter on my induction to the Church of the Holy Cross, Marsh Farm. I served there between 2013 and 2015, prior to coming to the USA. The author describes the parish:

“Marsh Farm is part of Luton, comprising a large 1960s housing estate and high rise tower blocks…there are a couple of woods nearby and some playing fields. In the absolute centre of this urban sprawl stands the Church of the Holy Cross, built in 1976.”

On the evening of my induction in October 2013 the church was full. Following the singing of the Veni Creator Spiritus and the laying on of hands by bishops, archdeacons and clergy, I rose to greet my new flock, as Richard Farquharson records,

“The new Priest expressed his appreciation to those living in the parish for having come to the induction service and stating his expectation of seeing them again on Sunday for the Eucharist!”

Of course, on the following Sunday the congregation size reverted to normal. They were a faithful flock who loved their church. Among the congregation, which was ethnically mixed, there was strong family feeling. They took their worship seriously but also enjoyed a good party, especially when the Caribbean contingent was cooking and providing the music. 

To make ends meet, the church hall was hired out to other groups. The Vicarage was physically attached to the church and hall, so the journey from home to work took about five seconds. Once I was awoken at 2:00 am by loud noises - shouts and screams. I put on my dressing gown and went over to see what all the kerfuffle was. It was one of African Pentecostal churches, who had sneaked in late at night. I asked them what they were doing and did they know what time it was? “We are praying,” came the reply. “Not at this hour,” I said, and asked them to leave.

Three months after arriving the church was full again. I was taking the funeral of a local man who had died in police custody. The full circumstances of his death had not been released. I could feel the suppressed anger in the church, along with a respect for the dead man and for the need for him to have a proper, godly funeral. The press were present in case something kicked off. I had to walk a fine line in my homily, calling for the facts to come out, and quoting the 12th century French theologian Peter Abelard, 

“The first key to wisdom is assiduous and frequent questioning. For by doubting we come to inquiry and by inquiry we arrive at the truth.”

In the end, everything passed smoothly, and we were able to lay the deceased to rest, although I am not sure we ever heard the full story of what happened.

It was an interesting parish in which to serve. I had to deal with a case of demonic possession, and a local family who arrived at church one day saying there was an unclean spirit in the house. The first one is a story for another time. As for the family, I visited their home and sprinkled every room in the house with holy water. The children joined in enthusiastically with the prayers in each room. A week later I called the parents - the spirit had gone.

My strongest memories are of the people with whom I shared this time. You can only do this job if you love people. Some may not always love you back, but you soon learn about the sacrificial nature of loving. Looking back, I realized I received as much as I gave. 

Now I am retired. While I like to look ahead, it is good to remember the past which, by the way, changes as you get older. With time, it is easier to see the hand of God in the way one is guided and blessed through the years.

May God the Father bless you in 2026. May you be renewed each day in the power of his Spirit, and inspired by the life and love of his Son, Jesus Christ. The earth is a small place, but each one of us can make a big difference, if we have faith and live up to our calling.

Father David