I was one among several hundred names in her address book and filing cabinet… In those days ‘Frances Whitehead’ was a phenomenon one heard about but never saw, but whose existence was manifestly evident in John Stott’s phenomenal output.
When Liz and I returned from five years in India in 1988, John invited me to be a trustee of the Evangelical Literature Trust. That meant regular board meetings in the basement of 12 Weymouth Street, entrance to which was by way of Frances’s office. And Frances herself was one of the trustees and the secretary. So I got to meet this ‘phenomenon’ more regularly. There was always a lovely warmth of welcome for all of us at those meetings. But I recall how over the decade or so that followed, the welcomes became more demonstrative – earlier formality gave way to ever more embracing hugs (from both of them) and a kiss (from Frances). For two such quintessentially unique individuals, with such backgrounds and life-stories, their capacity for genuinely loving and interested friendship was astonishing. In John’s case it was fostered by his international travel and face-to-face meetings. For Frances it all happened from a small office in central London. Yet, from there she participated in the global embrace of John’s friendships.
What strikes me most, as I read Julia Cameron’s beautifully-crafted biography of Frances, is the awesome providential sovereignty of God. Here were two individuals, with some similarities in their background and upbringing in England between the first and second world wars, one very urban and the other deeply rural – quite unknown to each other. Two people with very different life experiences and mixtures of personality traits, gifts, interests and competences. And yet, by a series of what might look like coincidences, or random choices (a lunchtime walk; a visit to an art-gallery), God engineered their coming together into a working partnership in which the gifts and energies of both could be fully deployed – serving each other in multiple human and hum-drum matters, and serving God’s mission in their generation. It was a partnership in ministry with the gracious and sovereign hand of God on its origins, its operations, and its outcomes.
Church history will record the name of John Stott till the Lord returns. But the story of John Stott would have been very different, and simply could not have been what, by God’s grace, it became, without the complementary ministry of Frances Whitehead – the lady behind the legend. John never wanted to be known as anything more than a humble servant of God. Neither does Frances. Every Bible reader knows Jeremiah, while few know about Baruch, his secretary. Baruch was a servant of the servant of the Lord. That was the role that Frances gave her life to fulfil. It was, as she says, ‘a life, not a job’. Yet even Baruch has a small chapter to himself in the big book that carries the prophet’s name. So in the midst of the many books by John Stott and about John Stott, it is altogether right and worthy that there should be one book dedicated to the woman who served her Lord by serving him.
Chris Wright
International Ministries Director, Langham Partnership
Author’s Preface
For some twenty years I enjoyed sporadic contact with Frances Whitehead, as hundreds of others have done, to ask for her help in arranging time with John Stott, or a contribution from him for a book or a magazine I was handling. Then since joining the staff of the Lausanne Movement, I found myself in touch more often. I have been particularly grateful for Frances’s kind interest, as indeed for John’s own, in all my writing and publishing ventures.
Since Frances’s eventual retirement in 2012, it has been a pleasure to sit in the sun room at her home in Bourne End, looking out over the garden, and to share conversation, fellowship and laughter, punctuated often by sightings of swooping red kites. For she has retained her childhood interest in the natural world, first instilled and encouraged by her father. ‘The red kites,’ Frances says, ‘remind me of John. Once we spent a whole day looking for them in the Preseli Mountains, and didn’t see a single one.’
The idea of writing Frances Whitehead’s biography came from Pieter Kwant, when he listened to the interview with her on Mark Meynell’s Querentia blog. Both Pieter and I are grateful to Frances for agreeing to it. Midway through my writing, I learned from Rose McIlrath, Frances’s oldest friend, of a conversation several years ago with John Stott, in which he expressed his own hope that such a book should appear. We trust it will add a measure of completion to the biographies on John Stott, and to the doctoral theses already published on the nature, and the colossal influence, of his ministry.
Stott’s ability to achieve so much, under God, could be described in human terms as the fruit of two factors: his self-discipline on the one hand; and Frances Whitehead’s commitment to his vision, and her sheer capacity for hard work, on the other. For more than five decades they worked closely, first as a team of two, and later joined by a line of study assistants. Through their long and close working partnership they became good friends.
What was it in Frances Whitehead’s character and personality that brought the drive, the exacting standards, the dominant streak, the occasional imperious tone, the tigerish protection, the pastoral concern, the warmth and laughter, and the doggedness, all mixed together? As for all of us, there are clues to our make-up in our family history. So to set the story of this unique partnership in its longer context of God’s providence, you will find, while unusual for a book, an ‘Interlude’. Here the reader is invited to glimpse a sweep of colourful history: on the Whitehead side from the mid-eighteenth century, and on the (maternal) Eastley side from the early-seventeenth century.
I have not attempted a full account of Frances’s work as John Stott’s secretary. Indeed to do that would require a comprehensive account of John Stott’s own work over that time. Their legacy is a shared legacy, and to grasp the pressures, and indeed the essence, of Frances Whitehead’s workload, we need to understand Stott’s own work; his goals; networking; friendships; calling. For readers who want to know more, the books to get hold of are listed in the Further Reading appendix.
How this book is shaped
The story is divided into four parts, each different in structure, opening with a single event in central London, the Memorial Service for John Stott, held in St Paul’s Cathedral in January 2012. ‘From childhood to the BBC’ traces the chronological thread of Frances’s life from her birth in 1925 to the early months of 1956, when she sensed that a move from her role in the BBC was likely. Then, in the ‘Interlude’ described above, there is a change of pace and mode. ‘John Stott’s Secretary’ reflects the 55-year story for which Frances Whitehead will be best remembered. The chapters in this section – which forms much of the book – do not move chronologically, as the strands of Frances Whitehead’s responsibilities from 1956 soon become too diverse to be followed easily in a single intertwined narrative. Instead, I have selected a few aspects of her role, and a few individuals with whom Frances worked, to give readers a broad feel; and I have given full chapters on their own to The Hookses (Stott’s writing retreat for 50 years) and to the Masters degree awarded to Frances by the Archbishop of Canterbury.
In several places the story of Frances Whitehead’s life is carried through anecdotes and reminiscences. Let these reflections from a handful of friends stand to represent the many more stories which could be told by others. I’m grateful to all those who have given time to help me build a picture of her life from others’ perspectives.
I want to record my gratitude to Bishop Timothy Dudley-Smith for providing the Introduction and to Chris Wright for his Foreword; both witnessed Frances Whitehead’s contribution to the global church from unique vantage points. I am indebted, too, to the staff of All Souls, and to several of Frances’s friends, who have helped me track down dates and details (any errors are mine and not theirs); and to Karen Hegarty, Rebecca Rees and my sister Fiona Shoshan, for perceptive comments and questions as the manuscript took shape.
Julia Cameron
Oxford, June 2014
Introduction
