Sermon: Memorial Address for Phyllis Richardson

Phyllis, as you will all know and as much of the content of this service makes clear, was devoted to her husband Alan who died suddenly while still Dean of York in 1975. Although, inevitably, while recounting and giving thanks for her life, much will also have to be said about Alan, it is important that we value her in her own right, and that is what I shall seek to do in this brief address.

Born Phyllis Mary Parkhouse, Phyllis first met Alan in Liverpool where he had studied Philosophy and subsequently became a curate. Phyllis, the first of her family to go to university, herself read English and had embarked on a further degree in Social Science but left this uncompleted when she married Alan in 1933. Significantly, it was while both were working for the University Settlement among the poor and deprived that they first encountered one another, for a strong social conscience was to become a recurring feature of Phyllis' subsequent life.  

Connection with Durham was first made ten years later when Alan was appointed a Canon Residentiary in 1943. Here the pair renewed their friendship with Michael Ramsey whom they had first met in Liverpool. Under Dean Alington Durham was at that time a very formal place. Both sought to make the life of the Cathedral more accessible. Phyllis loved to recount one particular story about Alan that revealed the subtlety of some of his methods. Alington, apparently furious at some minor changes made to the liturgy without his permission, castigated Alan by observing: ‘Had you been one of my masters at Eton, I would have fired you on the spot.' Quick as a flash, Alan replied: ‘But is that not what you are supposed to do with cannons anyway?' Even Alington smiled. But Phyllis too was a force to be reckoned with. In particular she embroiled herself in the wider life of the city, taking a special interest in the creation of new public housing and in planning, and she served for two years on the City Council. She was also on the initial steering committee that led to the establishment of St Cuthbert's Hospice. She also signalled her readiness for some social changes that were as yet only, as it were, a wink on the horizon. In a Memoir Hedley Sparks recalls he and his mother having tea with Michael Ramsey, and his mother railing against some Nonconformist who had mentioned the possibility of women's ordination. Ramsey's response was to observe that ‘you might well say that here, but not, I'm sure, so easily in the presence of the lady just across the lawn' (in no.7, the Richardsons' home).   

A decade later, and Alan became Professor of Christian Theology at Nottingham University, where Phyllis used the large Victorian house that they acquired in the Park to entertain students and academics alike. It is from this period that her capacity to help others troubled by changes in theology seems to date, and which several of you have remarked on to me either in letters or in conversation. That concern also eventually led her to found various trusts at Durham and Nottingham in Alan's honour, concerned with the exposition and defence of the Christian faith. In Durham's case it has brought numerous distinguished scholars to the university not just from elsewhere in England but also from across the world, including several from the United States, as is true of the current holder. Quite a few became regular cathedral worshippers, sometimes even attending daily.

The offer of York Minster in 1964 came as a mixed blessing. Alan loved teaching, and Phyllis debated right up to her last days whether she had been right to urge him to accept. Although assured that the Minster was financially sound, almost immediately the tower was discovered to be in danger of collapse, and not long after Alan suffered the first of a number of heart attacks. Phyllis sought to lessen the burden of the post in whatever way she could. For example, she took the initiative in establishing a cathedral bookshop (only the third in the country), and organised volunteers to open parts of the precincts hitherto inaccessible to the general public, among them the Chapter House. A major three-day flower festival was organised, and two national embroidery exhibitions, from the second of which emerged the Minster Broderers' Guild which is still flourishing some forty-one years later. Her interest in housing also continued. She took Alan's place on the Board of two Almshouses, both in a parlous state. Phyllis cajoled and borrowed until the means were there to transform Wandesford (which had been founded in 1726 for ‘eleven poor spinsters'), while another twelve flats were created in John Saville Court. It is easy to think of such activity as merely minor changes in an overarching continuity, but as with Durham something much more significant was at stake. One of the canons has described York Minster at the time of their arrival as ‘in effect a magnificent private chapel for the very elect.' God's providence can sometimes work in mysterious ways. It was precisely the need to raise such very large sums for the Minster's restoration that allowed Phyllis to innovate to such a degree in encouraging wider social contacts for the building.   

In 1975 a retirement home in South Street, Durham had already been negotiated with the Dean and Chapter of Durham when Alan died at York during the course of a Sunday Evensong. Stuart Blanch was due to be enthroned as Archbishop of York two days later. Although Blanch volunteered to postpone the proceedings, with characteristic courage Phyllis insisted that the service go ahead. Likewise, she kept to Alan's original plan, and retired to the cathedral house here in South Street. Not only did she become as a result a stalwart of the cathedral congregation, she also repeated some of the innovations she had introduced at York. Most important was the founding of the Broderers, with Dorothy Watson as their tutor and the top storey of Phyllis' house their first working place. Leonard Childs and Malcolm Lockhead acted as designers. A close relationship was formed with the former in particular, who once complimented the team on the way in which under Phyllis they treated their work as ‘a real spiritual exercise.' Nor was he alone by any means in such an assessment. A house crammed with antique furniture could easily have betokened an underlying social snobbery. But that was not the point. In fact, it spoke of a love of craftsmanship wherever it was to be found, whether it be in tables with beautiful fragile legs, embroidered altar frontals or the words of carefully crafted liturgy. As one correspondent put it to me, ‘Phyllis' great contribution to the sum of human spirituality was, and is, her instinct for beauty.'

Generous in her gifts to academic trusts and to the two cathedrals, Phyllis was also an open and warm-hearted person at a more personal level. An excellent correspondent, she was good at maintaining friendships across the years. Most notable was her friendship with Jenny Platten, her housekeeper for fifty years (1945-2005). It came as no surprise therefore that, when Phyllis had to move to sheltered housing in Sherburn House (where she had once been Governor), not only did she ask Jenny to join her, but gave her first choice of which flat she was to occupy. Jenny died while they were both listening to Songs of Praise. It is typical of Phyllis's deep faith that she thought long and hard about what form this present service might take. Although much of it employs material used at Alan's funeral, there are intriguing differences, not least in the prayers. It was a marriage in which two individuals were bound as one, but in which nonetheless, Phyllis brought her own distinctive contribution no less than Alan.

Today, we give thanks for her social concern and for her hospitable and generous  nature, but above all, I think, for her love of beauty, with its evidence all around us here and in York Minster.