Everything Really Matters

Last night I had the great pleasure of attending the installation of the Revd Martin Little as Vicar of Holy Trinity, Headington Quarry. The church was packed to the rafters, a sure sign of the warmth of the welcome awaiting him and the depth of affection for the parish. The atmosphere was one of celebration – joyful, reverent, and full of anticipation for the new chapter beginning in this much-loved church.

What makes Martin’s calling especially compelling is his background: before answering the call to full-time ministry, he was a guitarist. Giving up that musical path wasn’t an easy decision, but it was one rooted in a deep sense that God was calling him elsewhere. He moved to Clevedon, where his faith began to take new shape in parish life, leading him gradually into theological preparation and pastoral work. It seems that in stepping away from the stage, Martin has not given up on worship or creativity; rather, he has redirected that gift into shepherding a community, preaching, pastoral care, and helping others find their own voice in worship and life.

The service last night followed the beautiful, ancient structure for admitting a new vicar: presentation of the minister, readings from Scripture, the liturgy of institution, declaration of assent, oaths of canonical obedience and allegiance, induction, and finally the symbolic installation in the stall. It’s a ceremony rich with legal and spiritual meaning.

Bishop Stephen, preaching with his characteristic insight, brought some unexpected touches to connect Martin’s ministry with broader themes of life and meaning. Referencing the 40th anniversary of Bohemian Rhapsody, he challenged the famous lyric “nothing really matters,” insisting instead that everything matters: our relationships, our communities, our faith, our choices. He also gave a passing nod to C.S. Lewis—“Shadowlands”—linking the idea of life’s transitory shadows to the deeper, more enduring reality of faith. For a church that Lewis worshipped at, and is now laid to rest in, the allusion felt especially apt.

Given Martin’s history—from guitarist, to giving that up for ministry, to joining the church in Clevedon, and now being installed here—there is something very hopeful about his calling. He brings with him both artistry and discipline, creativity and pastoral heart. As he takes up the stall at Holy Trinity, he does so with a blend of musical sensitivity, theological seriousness, and sense of calling. The congregation, I suspect, will benefit not just from his leadership, but from the gifts he holds—perhaps seeing more moments where worship feels like art, where preaching rings with melody, and where the care for people is as tuned as a well-played guitar.

It was a very special evening. I left feeling encouraged, hopeful, and ready to see what real life in this parish under Martin’s vicarage will look like—because in this case, nothing being trivial really does make every moment count