Some people have lived such important lives.
In a recent wander through a cemetery in Pembrokeshire (SW Wales) one memorial is designed to attract attention more than any other. And it does. High above all else. The erect, stone figure can be seen from some distance. A military man of some kind, I suspect. Maybe a general? In life he commanded armies and now in death he is commanding graves.
But I am not wandering for his sake.
I am on a little pilgrimage. My eyes look here and there for the headstone I have come to see. Ahh, there it is. Down at the lowest point in the cemetery, close to the boundary, in a nondescript little space. Having been added far more recently than its neighbours, the colouring (and the material being used) is a little different, making it easier to locate.
I draw nearer …
… and still nearer.
It is my first time back to The Hookses in Dale since John Stott died, four years ago (later this month). This is the place where John Stott came to write his books and to retreat from the busyness of a global ministry. It was his wish to be buried here.
I had heard about the content of what he wanted written as a memorial (echoing the words chosen by Charles Simeon, a 19th century inspiration with a remarkably similar ministry) but I was not prepared for this context. I mean we are talking about arguably the most influential person in the global evangelical church in the last five decades, maybe more. This is not exactly St Paul’s, or Westminster Abbey, is it?!
But why should I have been surprised? A life characterized by simplicity and humility was followed by a death characterized by the same. In the lowest corner of a rural field.
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| The cemetery begins as the row of houses concludes – with our ‘general’ elevating upwards in the middle and Stott’s grave in the lower right corner (maybe expand this one a bit!). |
nice chatting
Paul
About Me
the art of unpacking
After a childhood in India, a theological training in the USA and a pastoral ministry in Southland (New Zealand), I spent twenty years in theological education in New Zealand — first at Laidlaw College and then at Carey Baptist College, where I served as principal. In 2009 I began working with Langham Partnership and since 2013 I have been the Programme Director (Langham Preaching). Through it all I've cherished the experience of the 'gracious hand of God upon me' and I've relished the opportunity to 'unpack', or exegete, all that I encounter in my walk through life with Jesus.
Recent Posts
It was my very first training seminar with Langham Preaching. April 2009. We were based at the OMF Guest House in Chiangmai, Thailand. As I wandered the property, I came across this striking quotation on one of the walls: So striking, in fact, that I stopped to take its photo! But is it really true?…
Ten years ago, Ode to Georgetown was my response to being surprised by grief when the only church I had ever pastored closed its doors. Last week brought the news that the theological college which I attended, Trinity Evangelical Divinity School (TEDS), was to close most of its Chicagoland campus. I have been feeling a…
I am neither painter nor poet, musician nor actor. With Art and Music and Drama classes at school, I was present in body—but absent in spirit and skill. However, as a teacher, there has been the occasional flare of creativity in the crafting of assignments. One of my favourites is one of my first ones.…
John Stott was the first one to help me see the tension in Jesus’ teaching on salt and light. They are pictures for how his disciples are to live in society. Salt pulls them in, keeping them involved. Light holds them back, keeping them distinctive. Being light responds to ‘the danger of worldliness’, while being…
No profound comment necessary. Only on-going gratefulness for living contemporaneously.
Lovely – thanks for sharing.
Such a humble, but great, Christian leader, teacher and author.