Henry John Jenkins MBE - Memorial Service

 Finally, we had someone on stage who could speak not the words of someone else, but in his own distinctive voice, and tell us how it was, because he was there.  Mark you, he did get his age wrong, in an endearing moment, saying that he had been twelve when he landed on the Gold Beach, a sergeant in the Royal Pioneer Corps.  ‘I was terrified,’ he said, ‘I think everyone was. You don't show it, but it’s there.  I was a small part in a very big machine. You never forget your comrades because we were all in it together.’

Our reading from the letter to the Ephesians spoke of standing firm against the forces of evil, and that is exactly what John and his comrades did.  With the benefit of hindsight, we know how successful the D-Day landings were, but at the time there was no guaranteed outcome.  Things could have gone other than they did; what was achieved was difficult and testing and far from inevitable. The Cathedral’s D-Day window, commissioned to mark the fortieth anniversary of D-Day, is a fine commemoration of the twelve nations who contributed to the combined land, sea and air forces of the allies, but it cannot show the sheer difficulty of welding such a disparate fighting force in a co-ordinated way.   As John recognised, he was a small part in a very big machine, and it was terrifying.   But he did what needed to be done, and his honesty and humility in telling how it was at D-Day 75 won him a well-deserved standing ovation.

That was the moment, perhaps, when a Portsmouth icon become not only a national icon, but an international icon. 

 Today we have heard four heartfelt tributes to John, giving us a number of different perspectives on his life.  We have heard stories and anecdotes from his family, and tributes from the D-Day Story and the Football Club.   It has been wonderful to something of the intimacy of his personal life, and something of the great historical events in which he was involved.  But for all that has been said, no life can be fully described by any series of talks.  Many of you will have your own unique memories and recollections - there will be words, perhaps, John spoke only to you, things only you remember, and so I invite you, in the music and then the prayers that follow this address, to remember and give thanks for him in your own way.

 What has been said, and the memories we hold, tell of the John whom we knew and remember and value.  And that valuing of him by us, is a glimpse of the infinite value given him by God.  God values him, and each one of us, more than anything else.  The Christian faith affirms that nothing, not even death, can break the bonds that link us to God. 

 The D-Day veterans who commissioned the Portsmouth memorial window chose a famous prayer of Sir Francis Drake to express the determination of spirit that sustained them:  ‘O Lord God, when thou givest to thy servants to endeavour any great matter, grant us also to know that it is not the beginning, but the continuing of the same until it be thoroughly finished, which yieldeth the true glory.’

 This prayer, it strikes me, is perfect for John Jenkins, whose long life involved many beginnings and great matters, and who is the perfect example of someone who not only began, but continued, and kept going, and kept giving, right until the end.   And now that his earthly life is finished, we see it in all its humble and unassuming glory, and commend John to the glory and presence of God.  

 There is a text from Matthew’s Gospel that sums up my sense of how John will be received at the gates of heaven: ‘Well done, good and faithful servant… Enter thou into the joy of the Lord.’  AMEN

Liz Snowball