Theology, Sensibility and Meeting John Stott

My one visit to London (so far) was to tag along with my father on a conference for the evangelistic organization now known as Cru (though it was and still is called Agape in the UK). Dad worked for Agape/Cru, but he was also studying for the pastorate at Reformed Theological Seminary in Orlando, Florida. Thus, he was excited to take his oily 16-year-old son and his cute 12-year-old daughter to a church called All Souls, where their pastor emeritus, John Stott, was scheduled to preach.

I found the music a bit stodgy and the building beautiful, but it was the white-haired pastor-theologian successfully captured the attention of my teenage self. I confess, I am fuzzy on the details, points and applications, but his sermon showed me something: the possibility of confronting a miraculous, challenging and all around chewy corner of scripture and remaining human, sensible and pastoral, intelligently and graciously leading the listeners back to God. This was the point all along. He preached on the mysterious prophecies in the book of Daniel, a book that I had rarely heard covered, save the felt sunday school story boards about the Lion's Den. I had also been to excitable conferences on biblical prophecy that seemed to lead more to culture war than to knowing and loving God (my youth pastor at the time offered some helpful correctives). He had the gift to combine wit and grace, and in that he parsed other interpretations, offered his own and pointed to the hope of the Gospel.

I now own a couple of John Stott's commentaries and have used others to for personal and communal Bible study. He is, in many respects, a reliable theologian of first resort whenever I need a better understanding of any part of scripture. But his gracious and reasonable presence that Sunday in London impacted me more. This attitude has been particularly helpful when faced with difficult questions from non-Christians; when I'm at my best, I imitate it (not always the case, sadly).

John Stott died today. His hope his seen, his faith is realized and, with Christ Jesus in paradise, his love is complete. His impact on the church can't be understated, nor his impact on the clergy who follow in his footsteps (see this moving post from one of the pastors at my old church in Washington), my father included. That day, he rallied us to have a picture taken with wise pastor, who graciously conceded. The picture is one of Dad's treasures. He often reminds me that there's a picture of me with John Stott. I consider it an act of God's grace that I met him and heard him that day.