I received news yesterday of the death of Father Richard Rowe. When he became Vicar of St Margaret’s, Leytonstone, in East London in 1979 he inherited me as the curate. I offered to move as soon as I was able (the usual thing to do in those days) but Richard wouldn’t hear of it. So began two tremendously happy years of parish ministry.

St Margaret’s Leytonstone had a long Anglo-Catholic history. The parish was not expecially large, long terraces of small late 19th century houses, the area bisected by the Barking-Gospel Oak line which ran on a viaduct … the church, large, brick, dull rather than ugly, built at the end of the 19th century. By the mid ’70’s parish life had become rather tired. The liturgy had not moved with the times and the 11am Sunday High Mass was still celebrated from the English Missal – as were the weekday Masses with a small band of faithful widows and spinsters who lived around the church. The previous vicar, Fr Christian Hilton, to whom I had come for my second curacy, died suddenly and we had an interregnum of a year. I was delighted at the news that Richard was to be the new incumbent, and that he wanted me to stay.

Richard began to assert himself immediately but in the most gracious way. I recall the first PCC meeting. There had been a lot of chit-chat in the ranks, and the first time this happened Richard said nothing but began tapping his fountain-pen on the table. Silence fell, and then he said ‘Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, through the chair, please.’

One evening we were due to welcome the local Guild of the Servants of the Sanctuary – the servers, in other words. Only one of the younger members came, but rather than go home Richard decided to demolish a rickety side altar. You have to realise that he himself only directed the demolition – standing there in his well-cut soutane, large red handkerchief just visible through the double cuffs and cuff links of his shirt. It suited us who were young and energetic! The altar went to the back of church under the huge painting of St Sebastian, the platform was broken up, the riddel posts went into store. Sunday arrived and so did the servers: shocked whispers in the sacristy.

More was to follow. Richard announced to the Church Council that the Bishop had indicated that he could not come to St Margaret’s unless something was done about the liturgical arrangements. (I think Richard was stretching the truth a little). He therefore proposed a new sanctuary be created in the nave. This was not to be done with a tiddly altar perched on a platform made from table-tennis tables! Oh no – Richard planned a ten foot altar and the restoration of six splendid baroque candlesticks he had found in a cupboard. My father, who had just retired, worked with Fred Hardy to construct a large platform; one of the ladies made a gold silk damask frontal, kneeling benches were obtained from a redundant church, a domed tabernacle was placed on the former High Altar, which now had as its reredos a fine copy of a Murillo Virgin and Child in a great gilded frame (which had been hidden away the the side chapel). The whole effect was very good and an example of what a sense of colour, proportion and sensitivity to tradition can do where there needs to be liturgical change.

It was a time of growth in numbers and in the quality of life. People were enthusiastic about their Christian life together, and proud to belong to St Margaret’s Leytonstone. Richard had his mother, who was crippled with arthritis, to live with him. I got on tremendously well with her and Richard did me the great honour of asking me to preach at her Funeral Mass.

Like so many priests of our generation, Richard entered into full Communion with the Catholic Church. I thank God for the years that he and I were colleagues. It was a good time to be in the Diocese of Chelmsford. We had a sympathetic Bishop in John Wayne and our enthusiasm was recognised and channelled into diocesan life. The Anglo-Catholic parishes were lively and forward looking led by a fine group of priests.

And now, Richard, may you rest in peace, assured of our prayers and affection.