one could have happily written Mother’s name with yours. It is a fragment of a debt I shall never pay, for apart from you—both of you—the book would never have been. Nor do I mean by that simply that it was your love and faith in me that sent me to Cambridge, though for that I shall never cease to be grateful. But my first grounding in Biblical Theology was your preaching, and still I learn from every conversation with you. What I have of scholarship, as of much else, I owe to you. All this in gratitude, love and what cannot be translated—pietas.
Both men were deep thinkers and had a real thirst for learning with a total commitment to preaching. They both read extensively: among my grandfather’s favorite authors were Charles Kingsley, Charles Dickens, and Jonathan Swift. My father loved reading detective stories and read a lot of history books. He also read literature that I had to teach at school and was always interested in discussing these texts with me.
Whereas my grandfather was at least on the surface an extrovert, and I suspect enjoyed the more administrative aspects of the role of minister, my father was often described as shy. He certainly never particularly enjoyed most of the administrative duties he took on at the university. We shall never know, but I wonder whether the apparent difference in their personalities was in some part due to their wives. By all accounts my grandmother was quiet and reserved, and my mother was certainly never lost for words and provided wonderful hospitality for all who visited my parents.
I don’t think I ever saw my father as shy and he certainly wasn’t in the pulpit. Ben has already given a very good idea of how my father preached. As a child, I used to accompany him to services and read lessons for him. I must have had to practice with him, but I have no recollection of this. It was a fun thing to do except for the church I put on a blacklist. I had been invited to sit with the children in the choir stalls but nobody warned me that they would leave before the sermon. I felt very isolated but on show, and cried. My father, despite the fact that he always checked through his sermon at some point during the hymn before the sermon, came to my rescue and took me to sit with him in the pulpit. An honor indeed!
My father and I had much in common—a love of history, languages, etymology, and music. When I was little he used to read to me and I used to like the story of Scott’s journey to the South Pole. Even as a child I found it very moving. However, I knew that father could never finish it—that was always read by my mother. He was a man of many hidden emotions.
I have read in Grandpa’s notes how both he and my father had harvest festival services to take on the Sunday following the cremation of my grandmother. They both went out to preach. Some sixteen years later when Grandpa died on Christmas Day, my father went out to preach as planned, we had Christmas lunch and opened our presents. Only then were my brother and I told that Grandpa had died. As a twelve-year-old, I showed some unhappiness that I had not been able to share this with my parents earlier that day. But, in later life, I understand the commitment of both men, and indeed it has helped me when I was confronted with similar situations.
These three volumes present the reader with sermons covering a century. Because of the way both men constructed their sermons with quotations, anecdotes, and a vivid eye for detail, as well as a Christian purpose, they seem remarkably fresh. They certainly provide me with much to think about.
All that remains is to say that it has been a privilege to be part of this project. Thanks to Jordan Stanley for typing my grandfather’s sermons. I didn’t envy him that job because I find his writing difficult to read. I must thank Ben again for all his work. He must have spent many hours typing, reading, and selecting these sermons. Without him this material would never have seen publication. It is difficult to express what this has meant to me. Thank you, Ben.
Easter 2018
3. As so many chapels it has now been closed for years, but I do remember going there with my parents, as father preached there quite frequently.
4. Florence was a horse-drawn caravan. It consisted of a single room and cannot have had any modern amenities. My grandfather had to rely on the friendliness, hospitality, and goodwill of the local people to provide for both him and the horse.
5. As a child my favorite chapel was always Lingdale because we got a fabulous homemade faith tea after the service. Much later on I became very fond of visits to Skinningrove; I used to drive my parents there after mother wasn’t so keen on driving too far.
6. The Holy Spirit and the Gospel Tradition. This was first published in the 1940s by SPCK, with a revised 2nd edition in 1966. It has fortunately been reprinted recently by Wipf and Stock, in 2011.
“WALKING WITH GOD”—Genesis 5.24; Hebrews 11.5
(Preached twice at Spring Head Mission and Bishop Street, dates not recorded)
Genesis 5.24 “Enoch walked with God: and he was not, for God took him.”
Hebrews 11.5 “Before his translation he had this testimony, that he pleased God.”
“Enoch walked with God.” That was a favorite text of old preachers of an earlier generation, and what a useful and helpful text it is. It is seldom nowadays that one hears a sermon on walking with God. I can only guess that the cause lies in the fact that we know so little of that great experience. I shall return to that presently, but I want to begin with the second of the scriptures I have read to you.
THE MAN WHO SATISFIED GOD
Enoch, says the writer of the Epistle to the Hebrews, “had this testimony, that he pleased God.” Moffatt translated that, “the record was that he had satisfied God.” That made me sit up and it gave me my subject—the man who satisfied God. The idea behind it is that of a servant who has given satisfaction to his master.
That record is very remarkable when you remember the height of the divine standards. Everywhere in the Bible it is made clear that God is not unreasonable. He makes allowances for the blundering efforts of his children. He sees and reads their hearts and judges according to what is there. He is equally clear that for His own the high ideals are set, and high standards are held. Jesus is more than our pattern, but he is our pattern, and in him God has given us an example. His standards demand whole-hearted endeavors and sustained effort. “It does not take much brains to be a Christian,” sneered a skeptic to Samuel Chadwick. “No,” was the reply, “but it takes all there is.” And it takes more than brains. It takes all there is of man and his spiritual energy, and that’s a high order. The problem is that so many of us are unable to pass when judged in light of the ideal. Well, here was a man who, when judged by divine standards, had the testimony that he “satisfied” God.
THE LIFE THAT SATISFIED GOD
What was the life that satisfied God? And where is the record of it? Come back to the first text. “Enoch walked with God.” That is all that is said about this primitive saint. His is the briefest biography in the Bible. It must have deeply impressed the chronicler. In a chapter that reads more like a record of births, marriages, and deaths than a page from the inspired Word of God, the name of Enoch is twice mentioned in a way that suggests the joy of the chronicler at coming to the name of a man of whom more can be said than that he lived, had children, and died. He began not one, but two, sentences with “Enoch walked with God.” No more than this. Enoch’s name is immortalized, not because he did anything grand in this world’s estimation, he did not wield a sword like Lamech or play instruments like Jubal, but because he made an impression on his age of the high known quality.
