This article first appeared in The Times, (London, 14 January 2012).
I travelled to London this week from my home in Boston, US, for the memorial service for John Stott. The Apostle Paul was his mentor, through the pages of scripture, so St Paul’s Cathedral had a symbolic ring as a choice of venue. Stott shared with the Apostle both a sharp intellect and a deep and driven passion for the Christian gospel.
John Stott, who died on July 27, 2011, was a winsome figure, urbane, perceptive; he served as Chaplain to the Queen, wrote 50 books (translated into 60 languages), was appointed CBE, and named by Time magazine in 2005 as one of the world’s 100 most influential people. He received honorary doctorates, and became the subject of doctoral theses. In addition, he was an expert in ornithology. Although the media gave wide coverage of his death, he barely featured in the news.
Stott served the congregation of All Souls, Langham Place, London, as Rector from the age of 29. He did not spare himself in reading, study, writing and in urging the Church to a holistic faith. In 1970 he handed over leadership of the church to Michael Baughen, as he was becoming widely used around the world as a gifted university evangelist.
This Rugby schoolboy, son of a Harley Street consultant, lived simply. In 1970 he moved into a small, two-roomed flat. He could have lived comfortably on his royalties alone — his books sold in their millions — but he used that money for the work of what became Langham Partnership International, which he set up to help to strengthen the Church in the developing world.
In 1981, aged 60, he declined a See, which would have given him a seat in the Lords. It was not in order to retire. That year he founded the London Institute for Contemporary Christianity, to bring Christ’s presence robustly into every sphere of society.
How did this urbane, humble, mild-mannered man come to be regarded globally as perhaps the most noble Christian leader of the 20th century? I offer two suggestions. First, John built genuine friendships. The sense of friendship was tangible yesterday as his old friends gathered to thank God for his life. He worked and he networked through friendship, which was, as a contributor to your obituary pages said, “embedded in his character”.
Second, he believed that effective leaders are those who are dissatisfied with what is, and who strive always for what could be.
The singer Paul Simon spoke in an interview published in Religion and Ethics last week of a long conversation with Stott, evidently enjoyed by both of them. Whether talking with the Royal Family, senior academics, singers or the poor in the world’s mega-cities, Stott gave them his full attention. His authority was won through sheer authenticity. Eidi Cruz from Mexico grew up knowing “Tío Juan” (Uncle John), as her parents were among his close friends. In a poem she wrote: “He taught me about humility / that listens to others / with the devotion with which we listen to a nightingale.”
In what did this “fifteen-talent man” (as the theologian J. I. Packer called him) take most pride? His writing? His glitterati friends? His CBE? No. He loved to tell the story of how, at Rugby, he listened to the public schools evangelist Eric Nash (better known as Bash) and was pointed to the beautiful depiction of Christ in Revelation, standing at the door, as painted by Holman Hunt.
That February afternoon, aged 17, Stott grasped his need to invite Christ into his life, and to trust in Christ’s death on the cross, in his place, for forgiveness of sin. Like the Apostle Paul, here was his only ground for his boasting.
His biographer and friend from student days, Bishop Timothy Dudley-Smith, preached at yesterday’s service, directing our eyes to the risen and glorified Christ. He posed the question often used by John to conclude an address. It was a universal question, simple and profound; the temporal intersecting with the eternal.
I could imagine John addressing a hall of students in Europe, the Americas, Africa, Asia, Oceania; Bible on the podium, left hand in his pocket, authoritative and engaging. The historicity of the gospel had been clearly argued; a persuasive apologetic for Christ’s claims laid out.
But an acquiescence of mind is not sufficient. “How is it between you and Jesus Christ?” he would ask. The wording may now sound slightly archaic, but the force of the question is as immediate as ever.
The Rev Dr S. Douglas Birdsall is executive chair, The Lausanne Movement (of which John Stott was honorary chairman)