During the autumn of 2011, there died in England a man whose death aroused worldwide attention. It also occasioned affectionate musings in my own mind.

His name was John Stott. Like the whole evangelical Protestant world—and even, apparently, the English public and the secular media—I knew, and mourned, that a giant had gone from the rest of us who were still left here in this mortal coil. The following remarks do not qualify as biographical in any sense. That has all been done. I cannot offer much in the way of dates and events in his life, even though I knew him for over sixty years. In any case, I need not do so. His life and achievements have been canvassed, scrutinized, and hailed by the media.

He visited in our household when I was a boy, and would stay on occasion with my own family after I was married. But I know—or perhaps I should say remember—nothing, for example, of his parents, nor of the religious flavor of the Stott household, nor even of the particulars of his own coming to faith.

He was, perhaps, the godliest man I have ever known, along with my own father. He emerged into a certain public view in the 1940s, I seem to recall, when he began to give talks, often in evangelical university circles. His own world had been the somewhat exalted world of the English public school and Cambridge University. It was the appearance of his early book, Basic Christianity, that expanded, almost globally, his reputation, again principally in the evangelical Protestant domain. He eventually gained a virtually apostolic eminence, certainly by no ambition of his own. There seemed to be no remotest tincture of vanity anywhere in his entire being. Like Enoch, he walked with God. Like Moses, he was meek. Like Abraham, he was the friend of God. Like Samuel, he was among those who called on God's name.

Over the years he and I met and talked now and again. He was, for one thing, a birdwatcher like my father, and since I had grown up regaled with prothonotary ...

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Elliott Smith

April 24, 2012  11:27am

I remember with considerable affection spending three weeks in Paul's letter to the Ephesians, taught by John Stott in Vancouver, some time in the early 80's. Throughout, he emphasized the "mystery" revealed in Jesus - and while Paul's concern may have been reconciliation between Jew and Gentile - the overall plea for peace between believers included "being diligent to preserve the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace (4.3). I recall being enthralled at the implications as so clearly delineated by Stott, and wondered about the polemics of the time swirling around the World Council of Churches and just how dangerous it was in its ecumenical emphases. I've no doubt that Mike Talbert is right: Stott's lesson was and is respect for differences in belief (interpretation?) and practice. But certainly, more than that was the spirit of the man who "walked worthy of the calling... with all humility, gentleness, and patience... in love," (4.1-2) as recalled by Thomas Howard.

Mike Talbert

April 14, 2012  10:37pm

As a Catholic who ministers mostly to members of other denominations I found Thomas Howard's account of his relationship with his mentor, or should I say John Stotts's mentoring to be especially instructive. I have found it so important to focus on the things we have continued to share since the Council of Trent completed the separation. I see in Stott some of that calm understanding that somewhere deeper than we rationalize there is that unity in Christ. Like Howard I share a deep need and respect for the Catholic sense of communion and appreciate his giving a historical rationale from the church fathers for the dogma. And I also have a respect for the sacramental sense of communion that so many protestant churches share. But then I suspect that is Stotts's lesson, respect.

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