Jenny Worthington: in memory

Today we said our goodbyes to our friend, and elder, Jenny Worthington -
first, at South Lanarkshire Crematorium, and then back down the road at the church.
In the first part of the day's proceedings, the Minister paid tribute to Jenny, while, at church,
Jenny's son Rhys shared memories of his mother.
The amazing turn out at both locations was a visible demonstration of just how many
lives Jenny touched over her own life.
Huge thanks to the many folk within the church community who helped in different ways
to ensure that today went smoothly.

Our thoughts and prayers are with her family, and friends, at this time.

The following is the Minister's tribute to Jenny...

‘Loyal’,
‘generous’,
‘kind’,
‘utterly professional’,
‘diligent’...
‘indispensible’
‘community-spirited’,
'inveterate loser of keys...
‘great story-teller’,
‘loving mother and grandmother’,
‘most excellent friend’...
Just a wee mosaic of words that help to describe the kind of person Jenny was,
and even then, they barely scratch the surface.

Jenny was one of life’s givers, and didn’t make a fuss about it:
she quietly just cracked on with whatever job it was that needed doing –
and, if she was in charge, it would be done with a keen eye for detail,
with maximum efficiency, and done well.
Both in her professional, and personal, life Jenny’s focus was very much on hospitality –
quite literally, catering to the needs of others whether in the thick of it at Royal Ascot,
tending to the needs of Heads of State at a European Summit, cooking for the First Minister,
or organising medieval banquets where she got to be 'Queen Jenny',
nothing phased her:
she rose to the task, and her energy, ability, and passion for what she did not only
enthused the many teams she led but brought out their best.
This was also evident in the many years spent in in training generations of
students at Motherwell College:
tho, when she got to the point where she began teaching the grandsons of
former pupils she rather thought it time to hang up her professional apron...

Her professional provision of hospitality was an extension of who she was as a person:
welcoming, warm – the kettle was always on.
She paid attention to people, noticed the small things:
she worked out very quickly that the minister was quite partial to a cheese scone –
and, let me tell you, those cheese scones were fabulous.
While we never did quite sort out world peace around her kitchen table,
I swear, at times, aided by her warm hospitality, that we were pretty close.
All these little touches, quietly done, spoke volumes about the way in which Jenny cared for people:
whether cooking or baking,
driving folk to where they needed to be as a designated driver in her community,
looking out for people in her role as an elder in the church...
in a myriad of ways Jenny gave of her time and her impressive skills in the service of others.
The other day, I was reading something that Jenny had written for her retirement ‘do’ –
she said:
‘Opportunities I’ve been given, I have tried to return.’
She did that, and more:
I suspect the balance sheet falls strongly in her favour.

Jenny knew things:
I often called her one of my ‘wise women’ –
I truly valued her vast storehouse of knowledge and advice –
she made me a better minister, and for that, I’m grateful.
But beyond that, ‘Ask Jenny’ was just as much a catch-phrase at the College as it was the church.
if you didn’t know where something was,
or who might be related to whom,
or something needed sorted,
Jenny was your woman.
She was also stickler for getting a thing right:
woe betide if you thought it might be a good idea to put teaspoons in a mug
and pop them on a table at morning tea.
You’d learn very quickly that no, it was not such a good idea after all –
and, yes, she was right about that and so many things.
But while she had high standards, she wasn’t stuffy – she had a great sense of fun:
when she was working in London in the 60’s, having been out on the town at a ball,
she ended up with friends all still dressed in their ballgowns, at the airport,
waiting to welcome the Beatles home.
Jenny had the best twinkle in her eye, and a lovely sense of humour –
and her face would light up when she talked about her family:
she was so proud of Sian and Rhys
and so delighted to welcome wee Gethin when he arrived into the world.

With her characteristic no-fuss approach, when she received the news of her diagnosis,
she just got on with things – began to organise and put things in order.
I was privileged, as her minister, over the last three years,
to have had some good conversations about the deeper stuff of life –
and in these last weeks, her faith helped her to find a place of peace in a hard situation.
She had the hope of resurrection in her heart,
and knew that she was indeed, a beloved child of God.
And, while it feels too soon, and while we will miss her so very much,
even so, she will rest in peace, and rise in glory.
Amen.