Remembering Michael Tregenna

It is with deep sadness that I have to share the news that Michael Tregenna, our much-loved organist, brother in Christ, friend, and Director of Worship at St Paul’s & St Barnabas, passed away on Sunday afternoon.

Michael was originally from Cavehill and lived in Seahill with his wife Violet. Our prayers are especially with Violet, with Michael’s children, Harry and Karen, with his grandchildren, and with all his family and friends as they grieve his death.

There are some people whose presence becomes so woven into the life of a church that it is hard to imagine the church without them. Michael was one of those people. For some 33 years he served faithfully in the worshipping life of St Paul’s & St Barnabas, giving himself to the ministry of music with dedication, humility, joy, and love.

Michael arrived at the church on a random Sunday evening, at a time when there was no organist, and in God’s providence he never really left. What began as one moment of service became more than three decades of faithful ministry. Over those years he played in both churches, supported both congregations, and then helped bring together the music ministry and choirs of both churches when they became one parish.

That was no small thing. In a place where history, memory, and change all matter deeply, Michael had a wonderful ability to pull people together and produce something from almost nothing.

He was much more than an organist. He was an active part of our parish life, a friend to so many, and a steady servant of Christ’s Church. He helped build up the choir, led and supported the Praise Group, chose and arranged music, helped plan services, supported weddings, funerals, Christmas, Easter, Remembrance, community events, and so much more. He was always available. He was rarely absent. He gave his time, his gifts, his energy, and his heart to the worshipping life of this parish.

I arrived in St Paul’s & St Barnabas almost four years ago to this day, and those four years have been full of ups and downs, challenges and joys, griefs and encouragements. Yet from the very first day, one of the friendships I came to value most was my friendship with Michael.

He was an encourager. He had humour, warmth, honesty, and a wonderful way with people. It would be hard to find fault with him. He was larger than life, full of joy, and had that rare gift of making people feel lifted up after they had spent time with him.

Personally, I will miss him dearly. I will miss the conversations over coffee. I will miss his encouragement and support. I will miss the way he helped me plan services and events. I will miss the way he ministered to me in song. Above all, I will miss his friendship, his faith, his example, and the quiet strength of his support, which has helped keep me going through these last four years.

Michael’s service was not confined to St Paul’s & St Barnabas. He was also involved with the Ulster Organists’ Association, helped in other churches, and was known and appreciated by many beyond our own parish family. He loved music, he loved people, he loved cars, and he brought life and joy into so many places.

But at the heart of it all was his faith. Michael’s faith was not simply something he spoke about. It was seen in how he valued people, how he encouraged people, how he served without needing the spotlight, and how he gave himself so selflessly to the church for 33 years. He had a deep hope in Christ, and that hope shaped the way he lived among us.

In the days ahead, many people will have their own memories of Michael. Some will remember the sound of his playing. Some will remember his work with the choir. Some will remember his humour, his stories, his kindness, his encouragement, or the way he could gather people together and somehow make something happen. Those memories matter, because they remind us that the life of the Church is often sustained by faithful service that is seen by God long before it is ever noticed by others.

Much of Michael’s ministry was like that. The preparation before a service. The choosing of hymns. The rehearsals. The quiet encouragement of singers and musicians. The support given to ministers. The faithfulness of being there Sunday by Sunday, year after year. These things may not always be public, but they are precious. They are part of the hidden faithfulness that keeps a church worshipping, witnessing, and hoping.

And yet, as Christians, we do not grieve as those without hope. That does not make grief easy. It does not remove the shock of loss. It does not mean we rush past sorrow or pretend that death is anything other than an enemy. But it does mean that we grieve in the light of the resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Michael’s hope, and our hope, is not finally in memory, music, or even the love we shared with him, precious though all those things are. Our hope is in the Lord Jesus Christ, who died and rose again, and who says to His people:

“I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live.”

So today we give thanks to God for Michael’s life. We give thanks for his faith, his friendship, his music, his service, his joy, and his many years of faithful dedication to St Paul’s & St Barnabas. We pray for Violet, for Harry and Karen, for Michael’s grandchildren, for all his family and friends, and for our whole parish family as we mourn his loss.

Michael’s funeral service will take place on Monday 8th at 1.00pm in St Paul’s & St Barnabas, followed by cremation at Roselawn at 4.00pm.

For now, we entrust Michael to the mercy and love of God, and we hold fast to the hope of the gospel.