A Curate becomes Homeless
A Curate becomes Homeless
In 1945, the Second World War came to an end. Victory was first announced in Europe, then a month later came VJ Day – victory over Japan. The victory of VJ Day had been won at a terrible cost, with atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Some 200,000 people had died in the two cities.
Hard times lay ahead for everyone who survived the concentration camps, and for all those who had lost husbands, fathers and sons in the fighting. But now the country could once more plan ahead, and replenish its resources. The building industry was revived, and there were many new jobs in this area, and in other areas. Food rationing and clothes rationing were gradually phased out over the next few years. Life was beginning to get back to normal.
John had been in Cambridge for almost the entire war. Now he was back on home territory, in the church where he had grown up. Before leaving Cambridge, John sent out invitations to all his family and friends, inviting them to pray for him, and to come to the service where he would be ordained. The card read:
Your prayers are asked for John R W Stott who is to be ordained deacon by the Bishop of London in St Paul’s Cathedral at 9.30 am on St Thomas’s Day, Friday 21st December 1945, to serve in the parish of All Souls, Langham Place, and St Peter’s, Vere Street, London W1.
Robbie Bickersteth had died in the war. John’s loss of this friend and mentor was huge. Robbie’s widow, Penelope, wrote: ‘How Robbie would have loved to be with you.’ Hugh Lyon, the Headmaster at Rugby, also wrote. He recalled John’s outstanding leadership of the Levée. ‘You may be sure of my thoughts and prayers... I think you know what I wish for you and how happy I am about your decision.’ This note may have gone a small way to helping John’s father come to terms with John’s calling. Both John’s parents came to the ordination, and so did Nanny Golden.
John’s Great Aunt Emily was thrilled to hear of John’s conversion to Christ at Rugby, and now of his ordination. She wrote: ‘You daily have my prayers’ and she enclosed some ‘pearls of great price’. These were verses of scripture carefully chosen and copied out. Many words were underlined in her elderly handwriting. ‘I send an angel before thee’... ‘shine as lights in the world’ ... ‘ye know that your labour is not in vain’ ... ‘I will never leave thee nor forsake thee’...
All Souls Church, Langham Place, is just a few minutes’ walk north from Oxford Circus, one of the busiest London Underground stations, and next to the BBC headquarters. Londoners working in offices nearby emerge from the Underground and walk past the church, day by day, week by week. Visitors to the capital teem around the local streets, shopping for souvenirs, visiting the BBC shop, or cutting through from Oxford Street to Regent’s Park and the Zoo. It is in a very busy spot.
There was no house for a curate, and John’s family had left Harley Street by this stage. ‘My parents will give you a room. I’m sure of it,’ said Marcus Dukes, a friend from Rugby. ‘You can’t get much nearer than 1 Queen Anne Street!’
‘Well, I’d be very grateful if they could,’ said John. ‘It would be for just a few weeks. That will give me a chance to find something else.’
‘I’ll write to them today. There’s a nice room at the top of the house, and you’d be comfortable there, with quiet to work.’
So John Stott moved into the top floor at 1 Queen Anne Street (hence the address on the invitation card). The arrangement was meant to be short term, but John got on so well with Dr and Mrs Cuthbert Dukes that it lasted for seven years! It took John less than a minute to walk to All Souls and just a few minutes to walk to St Peter’s, Vere Street, where he took many services.
While John had a privileged childhood, he was mindful of those who had much less privilege. At Rugby, before he became a Christian, he had founded the ABC Society, to enable the homeless to have a bath. It was called by the simple initials ABC to help people with little education to remember it. When he became a Christian this sensitivity to the poor was sharpened even more. God is a God of justice and of mercy and of compassion for the poor and needy.
All Souls parish included extremes of wealth and poverty. The streets designed by John Nash housed families with much wealth. But other nearby streets, in the eastern area called Fitzrovia, were quite different. John would visit the elderly, and the sick, and the widows. He saw how some lived in very poor housing, often overcrowded.
Fitzrovia was becoming multiracial in the 1940s. Spaniards, Italians and Cypriots had already moved into the area. Over the next ten years Asians and Caribbeans also arrived to seek a new life for their families. The parish included a hostel for working boys, away from home for the first time. John enjoyed his visits to the hostel, and won the boys’ confidence as he listened and talked, and tried to understand the way they thought.
The local children had neither the education nor the privileges he had enjoyed. He wanted to stretch their minds, and expand their experience. So he decided to take them camping. This was a major operation. He needed to borrow tents, sleeping bags, and cooking utensils. John’s work as camp secretary for Iwerne was great preparation. He made lists of everything, planned simple menus, and took the boys on shopping expeditions for the food.
The children loved going camping and John loved to take them. Each morning he would give them a wake-up call on his piano accordion. He no doubt tried to get them interested in bird-watching and in nature, to ‘shut their mouths and open their eyes and ears’, as he had learned to do.
John taught the campers songs about Christ, so the words would sink down deeply. Even if he lost touch with them, and they lost touch with the church, they would still remember spiritual truths they had learned. Each day he taught them from the Bible. Altogether this was a wonderful break for these inner city kids. They loved their curate. You could tell that by the way they laughed at his accent and mimicked him. John pronounced words with deliberate care and he ‘landed’ each sentence. Our intonation doesn’t change much, and John maintained this way of speaking all his life, as you can hear if you listen to his preaching online.1
The children knew that John had two middle names, beginning R and W. Surely they must be very grand names, the children thought. With gleeful humour, some children decided to guess them, and persuaded others that they were right. In this way a rumour spread that his full name was John Rochester Winchester Stott. Rochester and Winchester were the longest, grandest names the children could think of – they are the names of two cathedral cities in the south of England.
Every curate looks up to the vicar he serves under. How that vicar approaches his ministry will leave a lasting mark on the curate. This was the case with John, as he observed Harold Earnshaw-Smith. Mr Earnshaw-Smith loved Christ, and loved to speak of him, always wanting to test new ideas for evangelism. Then he used the best ideas, to make the All Souls ministry as effective as it could be. He was a strong spiritual leader.
He also had a good sense of humour. Picture in your mind’s eye a Sunday morning service in those days. New curates all took a turn at preaching, and prepared carefully. They needed to handle the Bible passage well, teach it and apply it. In this way church members would be equipped as Christians in their job on a Monday morning. Such a large congregation included specialists in just about every profession. There would be non-Christians present too, for whom the sermon was a stepping stone in understanding the Christian faith. The curates took sermon preparation very seriously.
Mr Earnshaw-Smith would enjoy playing a trick on his new curates, and it never failed … During the singing of a hymn he would walk over and say ‘You’re preaching this morning, aren’t you?’ when he knew he was to preach himself! It took only a second to realize he was joking, but that heart-stopping second stayed in the curate’s mind for a very long time!
John Stott’s father was soon to be made a Knight, and therefore to become Sir Arnold Stott. John was very proud of his father’s achievements, and the recognition he had been given. But this did not distract John from his work in the poorer part of the parish. John did not join his family for Christmas, as he knew some of the poor would have no one to visit them. So on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day he would visit up to seventy or eighty homes, and leave in each a food parcel as a gift. This Christmas delivery of food parcels later grew into a system of regular visits to these homes by a team of church volunteers. The poor in the parish always remained a priority for John.
One day a vagrant called Harry Mossop approached John after a service. Could he have some money? John had a rule of not giving money to tramps; he would offer them food, and talk with them. So he invited Harry Mossop round to his home. Harry visited John in his home often, over several years, and they would eat together, and John would open the Bible and pray.
Around this time John decided to do an experiment. It was October or November, when the nights began early. He didn’t shave for a few days, then he put on some very old clothes, and walked into the cold, dark evening. No one knew where he had gone. He made his way down Upper Regent Street, past Oxford Circus, and on down Regent Street. With hands in pockets to keep them as warm as possible, he crossed Trafalgar Square. He was about to see what London looked like through the eyes of the homeless. It was important that no one find out. He didn’t want anyone bringing him hot soup, or sandwiches. He wanted to experience exactly what it was like to be homeless, and to have no one really care.
Under Charing Cross Bridge, several homeless men and women had begun to bed down for the night. There were no blankets – just newspapers to keep them warm over their clothes. The pavement beneath was hard and cold. John had no newspapers with him as he hadn’t thought to look for any on the way. So he just found a gap, lay down, and tried to make himself comfortable, which wasn’t easy. He didn’t sleep much – people were coming and going, because they couldn’t sleep either. Some were making a lot of noise because they were drunk.
The next day he walked through the East End and was glad to find a patch of ground where he could lie on the grass and doze. He spent the following night in the Whitechapel Salvation Army hostel. Putting on his best cockney accent, he managed to get a bed. But it was another sleepless night, with a lot of drunken noise. In the morning he decided he had seen all he needed to see. He now knew what it felt like to be cold and hungry, and not able to sleep. He was very glad to return home. His friend’s parents in Queen Anne Street, like John, had a strong social conscience, and they listened eagerly as he told his story.
By this time Mr Earnshaw-Smith had become ill, and John was carrying a lot of responsibility for the church. His diary was jammed. He would often be seen to jump on his bike and cycle off to speak at student Christian Union meetings, giving himself just the time he needed to get there. Oliver Barclay was delighted to see John still speaking to student groups. Oliver was now married, and he and his family worshipped at All Souls.
In March 1950, when John Stott was still only twenty-eight, Harold Earnshaw-Smith died in his sleep. It was a great shock. He was much loved as Rector, and though he had been ill for a while, it was hoped he would recover. John had written to him shortly before he died; he wanted to relieve Mr Earnshaw-Smith of some of his load. But in God’s providence, history was to take an unexpected turn. So All Souls was now seeking a new Rector.
The churchwardens drew up the profile of the person they believed All Souls needed:
PROFILE OF NEW RECTOR
FOR ALL SOULS CHURCH
Rectors of All Souls Church were not appointed by the Bishop of London, as might be expected, but by the King. First, the Prime Minister (then Clement Attlee) had to recommend a name to the King. So George Cansdale (one of the churchwardens, who would later become Superintendent of London Zoo) went to 10 Downing Street. Here he presented the profile to Anthony Bevir, who assisted the Prime Minister with church appointments. The churchwardens were clear in their minds. They wanted to see John Stott appointed. Curates would never normally become rector of the church they served. So it was seen as an unusual suggestion. And John was very young. Would the Prime Minister trust the churchwardens’ judgment?
It would be a high risk strategy, in human terms, to place such a young man in this role. Forms were filled out, telephone calls made, internal memos written.
Anthony Bevir listened intently, as they made their case. Then he met with the Prime Minister.
‘Prime Minister, John Stott is an unusual candidate. He is the present curate, young and inexperienced. But the churchwardens are neither young nor inexperienced, and they think he will do a fine job.’
Clement Attlee nodded slowly, as if to indicate his full attention on the matter. Anthony Bevir continued. ‘They work closely with him, and I think we need to take their recommendation seriously.’
Anthony Bevir was a diligent man who researched everything carefully before bringing it to the Prime Minister. Clement Attlee knew this, so despite the fact that John was only twenty-nine years old, he agreed. John Stott’s name was passed on to the King, who accepted the nomination.
The July 1950 issue of the All Souls church newsletter opened with a simple announcement:
Our New Rector
His Majesty the King has been graciously pleased to appoint the Reverend J. R. W. STOTT M.A. to the living of All Souls, Langham Place.
The news of this appointment has been received with joy and thankfulness by the whole Church.
The Churchwardens
1 Page 152, number 2.