Father Rob Kean prepares to leave the Algarve after nine years

St Vincent’s Anglican Chaplaincy, part of the Church of England’s Diocese in Europe, serves an international English-speaking congregation in the western Algarve. Father Rob has led the church in Luz since April 2017 while also serving as Area Dean for Portugal. This August, however, he will preach his final sermon before returning to England to begin a very different chapter.

His last Sunday in the Algarve will be 16 August.

“I know I look so young,” he laughs, “but I’m 62 this year.”

Although he still has five years until retirement, the timing feels right. Family in Britain, pension considerations and future career opportunities have all played a part in the decision. Yet practical reasons only tell part of the story.

Here in Luz, Father Rob is leaving behind a flourishing congregation, an exceptional choir and a church that has grown increasingly diverse during his tenure. In England, he will oversee four rural churches in Cambridgeshire, some with congregations of only a handful of people.

“The head is saying this is crazy,” he admits. “But the heart is actually saying it’s the right thing to do.”

That tension between logic and calling seems to have followed him throughout much of his life.

Before becoming a priest, Father Rob enjoyed a successful career in IT, a passion he still hasn’t lost.

“It was my hobby before it was my career, and it’s still my hobby now.”

His journey into ministry wasn’t the result of a dramatic conversion, but a gradual shift. After beginning to attend his local church, he found himself increasingly drawn towards theology.

“I found I was reading more theology books than IT technical books. My life was moving towards that rather than IT.”

Today, his fascination with technology continues. Artificial intelligence is something he follows closely, not simply from a technical perspective, but as a practical tool that can help people communicate more thoughtfully.

He laughs that AI has become surprisingly useful when contemplating replies to difficult emails because “it never inflames situations. It quite often placates them.”

Long before becoming a Christian, however, he had always been searching for something deeper.

Growing up, he was fascinated by Eastern philosophy, meditation and Zen Buddhism through his interest in karate. Looking back, he says he always sensed there was something beyond himself.

“I’ve always felt as if something was there. We all have conversations with God, I think.”

For him, becoming a Christian didn’t suddenly create faith; it simply gave that experience a name.

Ironically, he first attended church hoping to confirm his belief that Christians were misguided.

“I went along to confirm my thinking that they were all mad,” he says with a smile. “And I’ve become one of them.”

His understanding of prayer is equally uncomplicated.

Rather than constantly asking for answers, he describes prayer as gratitude and conversation.

“It’s just me coming home from school and telling God what I did that day.”

Occasionally, though, there are moments that felt different.

While driving home one evening and reflecting on the decision to leave Portugal, he experienced what he describes as a clear inner response.

“It wasn’t an audible voice,” he explains. “But it was like a thought that simply said, ‘Trust me on this one.’”

Those moments are rare.

“It’s probably once every five years,” he says.

Faith, for Father Rob, is less about dramatic miracles than quiet confidence. When his son suffered a serious accident many years ago, someone suggested it would test his faith.

His response surprised them.

“‘Oh, don’t be silly. Of course it won’t,’ I said.”

He has never believed that faith depends on life always turning out well.

“I don’t believe God does bad things. I feel God is always there to support us with the bad things and the good things.”

Over the past nine years, that quiet steadiness has been reflected in the church community he has helped build in Praia da Luz.

When he first arrived, he imagined he would largely be ministering to retired British expatriates.

Instead, he found an increasingly international congregation.

Today, alongside British members are Americans, South Africans, Germans, Italians, Dutch worshippers and many others. The choir director comes from Moldova, while younger families and digital nomads have also become part of the congregation.

“There are certainly quite a few digital nomads about,” he says. “People who can work anywhere, so why not work in the sunshine?”

Yet despite the changing demographics, he believes most newcomers arrive for one simple reason.

“I think a lot of the people that come along are already church people and just want to find a church in their new location.”

Some, however, are simply curious.

“We do have some inquirers who are taking those baby steps towards learning more about Christianity.”

What Father Rob treasures most about St Vincent’s is its diversity.

“I love that cosmopolitan feel to it.”

Growing up in Hackney, London, he was surrounded by neighbours from Turkish, Jewish, West Indian and Asian backgrounds, an experience that shaped the way he sees church today.

“For me, that’s proper church. The common thread isn’t nationality. It’s our faith.”

Although Anglican by tradition, the congregation regularly includes Methodists, Baptists and Catholics alongside Anglicans.

As his departure approaches, he knows exactly what he will miss.

“The choir,” he says immediately. “They are incredible. Absolutely incredible.”

Music, he believes, gives worship much of its beauty and emotional depth.

“It really enhances the worship.”

He will also miss the size and energy of the congregation.

In Cambridgeshire, he will become priest of four rural churches, including St Peter’s, Old Hurst, a Grade II* listed medieval church dating largely from the 13th century, set in a village of only around 250 people. The quiet Fenland setting could hardly be more different from the vibrant international congregation he has led in Praia da Luz.

Some of the churches attract just four to ten worshippers on a Sunday.

“It’s nicer if there are a hundred people looking back at you than just one,” he says. “But the one is still important.”

His hope is to help those churches grow where they can, while recognising that some communities are simply small by nature.

Portugal, however, will never be far away.

He and his wife Angela plan to return often, this time as visitors rather than residents. They are already looking forward to exploring places they never found time to visit while living here, including Fátima and Tomar.

After nine years, Father Rob believes he may be the longest-serving chaplain St Vincent’s has had. That continuity has brought stability to the congregation, but he knows churches continue beyond one person.

Recalling a visit to a previous parish, he smiles at something a parishioner once told him.

“I have a confession,” they said. “You’re now my second favourite vicar.”

He considered that a compliment. It meant the next priest had become just as loved.

After nine years in the Algarve, Father Rob will exchange sunshine for Cambridgeshire skies, a bustling international congregation for medieval village churches whose history stretches back almost 800 years. It is, by his own admission, not the move that makes the most logical sense.

Looking back, he says, life often only makes sense afterwards.

“It’s little by little, on a journey sometimes,” he reflects. “It’s often only when you look back that you see how much things have changed.”

For the congregation at St Vincent’s in Luz, August will mark the end of an era. For Father Rob, it is simply the next step on a journey that has already taken him from London taxi driver and IT professional to Anglican priest, and now from one of the Algarve’s most vibrant churches to some of England’s oldest.