Farewell Mass for the Reverend Judith Sweetman
Sermon preached by Fr Philip Banks
Sunday 5th September 2010

Judith and Rufus – what to say to you this afternoon.  What words will be adequate to express our gratitude and our affection, Judith for your ministry?  The fact that so many of us are here today bears testimony to the esteem we all hold you in.  You’ve asked me to preach today (not sure whether to thank you!) and the preacher’s job is somehow to articulate what you all here feel, and to say “thank you” on your behalf to Judith. 

Yet I know too Judith, having worked with you so closely these three-plus years, that you’ll want this service and my words to be Christ-centred, God-centred – not just focused on you. That’s why you decided that you wanted your final service here to be a Eucharist, a service of Holy Communion, gathering around table of the one, our Lord Jesus, who welcomes us and loves us to the end. 

And - typical you – you’ve chosen two readings which typify Christ’s ministry -  love and servant-hood  - and which typify the way in which you’ve tried to follow in his footsteps in these first years of ordained ministry in the Church of England: in love and in servant-hood. 

Someone asked me recently what was at the core of a priest’s ministry.  I thought of all sorts replies, including love & servant-hood – and prayer – and blooming hard work! And lots of fun and rewards – Judith and Rufus will both say the same I’m sure.

 Actually, the answer is more basic. For the priest tries to help people to say ‘YES’ – and that’s what you’ve done in your ministry. You’ve been (literally) Good News – you’ve helped us to say YES – to turn to a God who always says ‘YES’ to us.  Which is a slight contrast to what is lot of people think religion is about.  You only have to go into a public bar with your dog collar on for most people to stop swearing.  You see there’s a general misapprehension, I’ve said it before, that religion is about saying ‘NO’ – helped of course by some sections of the media and by a lot of misguided, so-called, religious people who also say ‘NO’ – ‘no’ to women’s ministry, ‘no’ if you are divorced and want to get married in church, ‘no’ if you are Gay, ‘no’ if you’ve a different view to mine, certainly ‘no’ if you’re from another faith. 

But a Church of England parish priest knows that this just won’t do – we’re not an exclusive kind of church – and, Judith, you’ve helped us in ministry here by saying “YES”, making St Peter’s an inclusive place. 

We try to say yes – and that’s what Judith has been saying here since she arrived:  saying ‘yes’ on your behalf in the offering of the Holy Eucharist; saying ‘yes’ on your behalf in the offering of prayers for you at various times; saying ‘yes’ in the preparation and preaching of sermons, which frankly can sometimes be as perplexing and puzzling for us preachers as for the listeners!

 And, of course, saying ‘YES’ in the time she’s spent with others in their need, in listening.  Not providing answers necessarily, but helping perhaps to ask the right questions, and then, with them sometimes to face the fact that some of the most important questions in life don’t have answers. Simply to say, as one godly Christian writer puts it, that “the Christian life is full of doubt shot through with moments of faith”!

 I haven’t asked you directly, but I suspect that, like the rest of us, that’s what your life’s like too. For the priestly life is demanding, tiring, sometimes disappointing, often exhausting – it demands something Christ-like – it demands standing alongside others in their pain and need, bearing them up in their hearts before God, which is what prayer is – and how lovely that all of you have turned out here this afternoon to say thank you to Judith for these years of very special ministry – to say thank you to you Judith for the ‘yes’ that you’ve given to us with who you are.  And to say thank you to you, Rufus, for supporting Judith in that, and allowing her to be the Good News – the ‘yes’ that she’s been.

 And for me, saying goodbye to Judith and Rufus is going to be one of life’s bereavements.  Janet and I’ve had a weekend of bereavements: taking the funeral of Colin Argen’t son Stuart; handing our own son Ben over to Royal Hospital School – and now you!

 Saying goodbye to a loved and respected colleague is always difficult, and this time for me especially so.  For I’ve enjoyed working with Judith beyond measure. As well as being a valued and stimulating colleague, she’s also become a good and trusted friend.  And I know that she’s become a good and trusted friend to you too.

 There’ll be many here who’ll have cause to be grateful to Judith for her ministry to them personally:  the gentle way she’s dealt with a bereavement or handling of a funeral; perhaps gratitude for careful and joyful way she’s helped plan a wedding;  the love with which she’s baptised a baby. I’m sure some will recall your first Christening here – some of us stood with bated breath (“will she drop the baby”!?). We’ll remember your love of chocolate, your love of washing up in the kitchen here, the phone call or the card at the right moment. The quick trip to the loo before the service (or even half way through the service!), leaving the clergy and servers worrying about where you’d gone…. 

It is hard to say goodbye to someone who has meant so much to us. But as Christians we say “Good Bye” in the true meaning of the phrase which is “God-be-with-you”. For today we release Judith from her responsibilities here, in order that she may take up fresh ministry in the parishes where God has called her to serve. And, Judith & Rufus, you wouldn’t be human if you weren’t a little daunted by the task that lies ahead.

 I don’t know what ‘final’ words or message you were expecting from me for you today. But I am going to leave you with this thought: about 15 years ago I made a private visit with a couple of clergy friends to the Orthodox Monastery near Tiptree. I can’t remember where on the complex I was (and so much has changed there anyway since then), but Brother Cyril took us to a small chapel not normally open to the public. After we’d admired the ornate and beautifully decorated screen, he pulled back a curtain. And there behind it was a totally plain space with small undecorated altar table and a very simple, undistinguished picture of Jesus. It is one of the only things I recall about the visit, because it was as if a window had been opened into my mind – I suddenly saw the simple ‘fact’ of Jesus at the heart of all our beautiful words or worship. Jesus behind the curtain of our anxieties, our theories, our struggles, our liturgy. Simply there. Nothing anyone can ‘do’ about it; there Jesus is (as he promised) until the world’s end. And – nothing of value can happen in the church that doesn’t start from seeing Jesus, simply there in our midst, suffering with us and transforming our human muddles. You won’t go far wrong, Judith & Rufus, with Jesus simply there in your midst as you go on with your journey from today.

 So – dear Judith – we release you. You go with our love, our prayers our blessing. You’ve made your mark here and we’re grateful to you. I doubt we’ll ever forget you! And as a page of our St Peter’s history turns today, so a new chapter opens for the people of your new parishes. For your ministry from now on is for them and not for us – and we wish you well as you take your gifts, your love, your ‘yes’ and your servant-hood to them. May God bless you and keep you safe, now and always. Amen. 

© Philip Banks 2010

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