FATHER John O'Gorman, who plays off 20, has a little private joke about his golf. If he cards over 90, he's neglecting his game, he says; if he gets around in under 80, he's neglecting his parish.

So how frequently does he score under 80? "I can only remember once," he says.

From next weekend, however, Fr O'Gorman will finally have more time to improve his handicap. Days short of his 75th birthday, he retires from the full time Roman Catholic priesthood, the last 32 years at St Joseph's, Norton-on-Tees.

The day his departure was announced, the church was struck by lightning

. Lest it strike twice, he is anxious to emphasise that it was coincidence, meteorological not metaphorical.

"It's not a question of retiring completely, it's getting away from the bureaucracy and everything else," he says. "I am convinced that to stay another year or two would be a great mistake."

Inevitably, it will also mean changes in the parish, uncertainly facing the prospect of not having a resident priest - there just aren't enough - and becoming part of what the Catholics uncomfortably call a "cluster".

Fr O'Gorman - nicknamed Fog, Jog or Frog, but not usually to his face -believes in facing the challenge.

"Perhaps fewer priests is a bit of a blessing; I think we had too many.

"We were encouraging lay people to become more involved but they couldn't see the necessity," he says.

"I remember on my first Saturday night as a curate in Newcastle being told that I'd be in charge of football pools. I hadn't been trained to be in charge of football pools.

"Perhaps they have been spoiled in a way. They will have to learn to share a priest."

Others are more anxious. John Morgan, a senior parishioner celebrating last Sunday a 40th wedding anniversary with his wife Kathleen, believes that laity will have to drive around to find services.

"The car is a menace and we are going to have to live in them. The more we make the car the centre of everything, the more parish communities are going to be undermined," he says.

The church, opened in 1935, is partly a former stable adjoining Ragworth Hall and owned at the time by the Ropner family. For two years previously, Mass had been celebrated in the Hall dining room.

Father Robert Thornton, the first priest, died in office in 1970. Fr O'Gorman, among a seemingly limitless influx of Irish priests in the 1950s - his younger brother is parish priest at Houghton-le-Spring - succeeded him and has overseen great change.

Ten years ago, the church was transformed - "astonishingly" says the parish directory, with good cause - making it lighter, brighter and altogether more welcoming.

Fr O'Gorman is warm on welcome, though they still have a long way to go, he insists. He has also helped start almost 40 organisations and activities, ranging from Holy Hikers to Journey in Faith, who may or may not be taking the same route.

To mark the millennium, a large new entrance hall and vestibule was built and has been equipped by people with a thought for good communication. The Catholic school of which he is governors' chairman was rated "excellent" by Ofsted.

Around 200 are at Sunday morning Mass, another 150 had attended the previous evening. Numbers have halved, he says, since his arrival in 1971. There were three Masses and a curate then.

It's both Racial Justice Day and the Feast of the Triumph of the Holy Cross, both touched upon in a six minute homily. Later, Fr O'Gorman urges his people to have "respect and reverence" for others - "it only costs the effort of one little smile."

At the end of the service, he also warns that, without a replacement priest, the area will "almost certainly" have to operate one short. "We will have to be ready for change, to think not of ourselves, but others."

John Morgan says afterwards that the parish priest will be missed for his thoughtfulness and his leadership. "All this talk of celibate clergy, but this is really his extended family. He is a real leader to his flock."

Otto von Bertele says his strongest quality is in supporting those in need, but wonders about the lightning strike. "The heavens were angry; they don't want him to go either."

Over coffee in the presbytery - picture of Pope John Paul on the wall, typewriter on the desk, Catholic Times open on the floor - Fr O'Gorman admits that at his ordination, he could never have imagined how the Church would have changed but insists that he's confident of the future.

"I believe in the words of the good Lord himself that the gates of Hell will never prevail against us. He is with us until the end of the world," he says.

He retires to live with his housekeeper in Sedgefield. One of these days, he adds, he hopes for another round under 80.