17 Addition, Multiplication and Endings: 1995–2006
Addition, Multiplication and Endings: 1995–2006
Leon wrote fifty books by his reckoning.1 However, any assessment of his impact needs to account for the time he began writing as an emerging evangelical scholar in the 1950s. Some of these earlier works might be weighted more heavily as there were so few evangelical scholars of his calibre writing serious works at that time. His work strengthened the respect for evangelical scholarship and encouraged other evangelicals to the task.
Statistics are helpful here. In 1995 when Leon stopped recording the total number of books sold, he had reached 1,618,542.2 That year, some 70,000 more copies sold, and sales continue for many titles. A very conservative estimate of total sales is now in excess of two million copies.
Without a doubt, his major contribution was The Apostolic Preaching of the Cross (1955). It sold 2,575 copies in the first year and has now surpassed 50,000. The Atonement: Its Meaning and Significance (IVP, 1983), a contemporary rewrite of The Apostolic Preaching of the Cross, has sold in excess of 34,000.
Carson noted at the time of Leon’s death, ‘The Apostolic Preaching of the Cross should to this day be on any preacher’s list of “must books”. His book on the cross helped restore confidence in a carefully articulated grasp of penal substitution, in an accurate understanding of propitiation.’3 He added, ‘His whole style as a confessional scholar … helped others to latch on to him as a real mentor.’4
A Tyndale warden commented:
The research and The Apostolic Preaching of the Cross were written at a very critical time in English Academic thinking … Leon was very bold to attempt what he did. The prevailing English view was that all punishment had to be remedial and if it didn’t help someone it could not be considered. Leon demonstrated the biblical view of punishment as more than and different from the prevailing view … Modern views of the old English view still exist for example in the recent treatment by Steve Chalke arguing about the biblical view being a form of abuse.5
1 and 2 Thessalonians (Tyndale, 1956) sold 2,918 copies in the first year. By 1994, its sales had reached 177,166. The more technical The First and Second Epistles to the Thessalonians (NICNT, Eerdmans, 1959) has sold 80,000.
The Tyndale Commentary on 1 Corinthians (1958) generated sales in excess of 250,000 when the updated version, released twenty-five years later, is included.
It is clear that from early on in his career, Leon had a serious impact in his areas of scholarship and it was not long before his works established him as a world-class Bible commentator.
Leon’s The Cross in the New Testament (1965) formed a compendium for pastors and clergy who wanted the New Testament, book-by-book evidence clearly set out for the twenty-six New Testament books. Given its technical nature, the fact that it sold some 30,000 copies was remarkable.
Leon loved writing The Gospel According to John (Eerdmans, 1971) because of the depth of the gospel and the fact that very few limitations were placed on his writing style.6 With over 125,000 copies sold (including the 1995 revision), it was a highly influential book. It was used by scholars, pastors and informed lay people, and some were converted by reading this scholarly and spiritual labour of love.
Testaments of Love (Eerdmans, 1981) filled a gap in research concerning the nature of God’s love in relation to the cross. It gave biblical validation to much Christian teaching on love, and Leon placed it very high in his list of important works.
His New Testament Theology (Zondervan, 1986) sold 20,000 copies; it was well regarded and popular because of its succinct and helpful structure, and it appealed to Christians from a wide range of cultures.
The Epistle to the Romans (Eerdmans, 1988) became a wonderful tool for students and ministers for over twenty years; it was often a set text in theological colleges and seminaries. The book sold 6,209 in the first year. By 1997, Leon’s last year of record-keeping, sales had reached 28,741.
The Cross of Jesus (Eerdmans, 1988), a short book by Leon’s standards, demonstrated how an experienced, life-hardened, conservative biblical writer could apply the cross to the emerging secular assumptions pervading Western society. The publishers realized the importance of this book and it quickly sold some 15,000 copies.
Leon’s essentially religious writings sold successfully and prolifically worldwide in an increasingly secular environment. For many, his atonement works are his lasting legacy, while others were most influenced by one of his topical works or commentaries. Nevertheless, he showed that it was possible to face the academic community, the church and the world with faith and beliefs and offer real strength and perspective. His books remain, and he had the incalculable influence of a significant worldwide ministry.
The Leon and Mildred Morris Foundation
In the late 1980s, well before Leon stopped writing, he and Mildred set up the Leon and Mildred Morris Foundation.7 Investments were largely composed of property or proceeds, blue-chip shares and book royalties. These royalties varied from 7.5 to 14 per cent per book sold, with the median amount 10 per cent.
In May 1989 he visited a stockbroker for advice on which investments to retain to live on and which ones to transfer to the new entity. For years, he kept his own weekly running chart of share values extracted from the newspaper and wryly noted that the shares that subsequently did better had gone into the foundation, and he and Mildred lived on the others.
Leon loved the fact that although most Christian agencies were in need of money, he had a little foundation that could give it away. He and Mildred had a list of agencies and an annual allocation would be made to some ten to fifteen groups. They loved supporting pastors or ministries in the emerging world that needed books or resources. He included a proportionate amount for Australian needs in theology and mission.8
When the foundation members met in Leon’s study, Leon would open his Greek New Testament, give a five-minute study and pray a passionate, brief prayer. He chaired graciously in his no-nonsense style as the group decided where the money should go. Leon beamed brightly as he spoke of how good it was to be giving money away for God’s kingdom.
Brian Bayston, his solicitor, with Leon and Mildred’s agreement, gradually transferred more of their personal assets into the foundation. It still left them plenty to fund their modest lifestyle of boiled eggs and Vegemite sandwiches, an Australian delicacy.9 Only Leon, Mildred and the solicitor knew what assets existed on the personal side. Every couple of years another Aus$50,000 or Aus$100,000 was transferred across to the foundation. It grew to some eight million dollars, capable of distributing Aus$350,000 annually. Leon and Mildred had decided that this foundation was God’s provision for the causes in the kingdom of God that they supported, until Christ returns.
By the time Leon had reached his sunset years, he had exerted a tremendous amount of influence through his books and the foundation. Internationally, he produced evidence for the atonement that changed the debate on thinking about the cross, some feel permanently. He travelled to all continents, spending the equivalent of five years ministering to students, pastors and lay people largely through his teaching. He criss-crossed America, Great Britain and other areas like an evangelist of love and truth. For some twenty-five years he was at the cutting edge of general academic works and a trusted academic who wrote for the church. He was so gifted linguistically and theologically that he mentored many people of the quality of John Stott. Along with two or three contemporaries, he reinvigorated evangelical scholarship.
Locally, his fifty years in Melbourne changed Ridley College. Ridley is known because of Leon Morris. He spearheaded the rise of an evangelical culture of scholarship that did not exist in Australia before 1950. He strengthened the diocese in which he served through his contact with half the licensed clergy and his participation in the writing of the Forward in Depth programme, which was studied by twenty thousand Anglicans. He championed evangelism by his work on linking our understanding of God, the cross, human sinfulness, and people’s deep need of Jesus Christ. This was clearly seen in his support of and participation in the Graham Crusades, but it was clearly a lifelong passion. He exhibited fairness and genuine rapport with other churchmen, encouraged women in ministry, and was progressive in his social activism.
‘That’s Life’
In the mid-1990s, around the age of eighty-one, Leon began to experience signs of forgetfulness. He managed fairly well for four years, with just a few hints of the problem. One Good Friday, when speaking in another parish, he remarked before the service that he hoped it would be a good Easter Day service, momentarily forgetting the day. The vicar, somewhat surprised to hear Leon make a mistake, let the comment pass and handed him the Good Friday running sheet. Leon made no comment but acknowledged in the pulpit how glad he was to be there on Good Friday and preached with his usual passion, drive and relevance on the cross. So much so, congregation members lined up to converse with him at length.10
The latter years of the 1990s became a quiet period with few engagements for the Morrises. Now, a lot of their engagements were medical appointments. More than once, however, Leon was spotted in deep conversation with a person of spiritual heart who had no formal education. Or he would engage in complicated dialogue with more complex souls as required. He and Mildred loved the people in Doncaster and were loved. Paul Barker, then vicar of Doncaster, summed up their closing years there:
Leon did not push himself forward although he was willing to preach when asked and always did a good job. In latter years they attended 8 am. Mildred was more outgoing; she would approach people after the Services and engage in conversation. Mildred really helped several ladies … they were gracious, they lived a simple lifestyle, modelled faith, were encouragers; were careful with their words spoken.11
Sadly, the time came when it was no longer possible for Leon and Mildred to stay in their home at Doncaster. Leon was deteriorating and Mildred was concerned that she might die first. She had attempted to make arrangements for Leon when she would no longer be around, but Leon did not wish to be provided for. In a letter to Leon and Mildred, Bayston logically set out the case, point by point, reminiscent of Leon’s own style, and perhaps deliberately done so, to help Leon see that it was time to move. Bayston suggested that Leon and Mildred move before 30 June 1999, as it was a convenient date for change of address and other issues.12
Leon and Mildred sold their house and, after a short stay in temporary accommodation in Hawthorn, they moved into a permanent unit in the Karana Hostel and Nursing Home complex in Kew.
Friends gathered on 4 January 2001 to celebrate Leon and Mildred’s sixtieth wedding anniversary. By this time Leon had fully developed dementia. Although speaking cogently, sometimes humorously, he was speaking of the past as if he was in another location. He repeated much of what he said to the small group of loyal friends. This period was extraordinarily worrying and draining for Mildred.
Two or three times Leon escaped their temporary accommodation in Hawthorn, once arriving back at Queens Avenue. He still had a key. Mildred was not there; he informed the police that she had been abducted. However, the most adventurous incident was his mysterious journey of no less than forty minutes, perhaps sixty minutes, hitch-hiking from Kew to Parkville. Once he reached his destination, he ambled along the asphalt footpath of Walker Street, through the wrought-iron gate, down the rose-bordered path and sought to enter the front door of the principal’s residence at Ridley. He had, after all, lived there for fifteen years. Providentially, the then principal, Revd Dr Peter Adam, came home and had quite a conversation with Leon: who really was the current principal of Ridley College? Adam drove him back to Mildred without convincing Leon that he had relinquished the post some years before.
By 2002, the Karana staff only allowed Leon to go out if accompanied. He and Mildred still walked together to the local shops and Kew library, and a parishioner would drive them to Christ Church Hawthorn. The vicar would visit the nursing home, where more than once Leon told him that he (Leon) was ‘soundly converted’.13
So long as Mildred was there at Karana, Leon was happy. However, Mildred’s health seriously declined and she died in 2003. Her funeral notice read:
Loving wife of the Rev Dr. Leon Morris
departed this life at Karana Kew
on Tuesday April 22
aged 87 years.
Loving sister of Wallis (dec), Sarah (dec), Wilma and Thomas.
‘Well done thou good and faithful servant.’14
Before she died, Mildred expressed to her vicar, ‘I feel I have lived a very fulfilled life.’ She had indeed lived a vigorous ‘can-do’ life.15
Leon had often been unavoidably away when a number of family members died. Now, at Mildred’s funeral, ironically he was unable to really grieve Mildred’s death; he was unaware of where she had gone and kept asking people.
Friends still did what they could to maintain his life, and the staff at Karana loved him. When Leon turned ninety, Barker was there: ‘I remember his 90th Birthday after Mildred had died. It was quite sad … when asked if he’d like to say anything Leon was really unaware of the context.’16 There were better days. When Babbage visited, he got Leon talking about his earlier memories of the 1950s. Nevertheless, it was a sad time for his academic friends. Andersen recalled, ‘It was quite sad as I could not engage with him at an intellectual level anymore.’17 When he talked to friends and had had enough, he would politely excuse himself. Bayston reported, however, that to the end Leon would join in a time of prayer with amazing clarity.18
In 2006, Leon had a fall at Karana that resulted in what appeared to be a broken hip. According to protocol, he was taken to the nearest large public hospital for X-ray confirmation. After the hip X-ray he was sent home. Karana staff realized the wrong hip had been X-rayed, so back he went to the hospital. The hospital confirmed a fracture. Subsequently Leon contracted pneumonia and was taken to hospital. Visiting friends reported that he was calm; one commented that as he sat with Leon it seemed Leon was just waiting for something to happen, not rushed at all. He died peacefully on 24 July 2006, aged ninety-two. His death notices appeared in Australian newspapers:
Morris Leon Lamb
15/3/1914–24/7/2006
Son of George and Ivy Morris
Brother of Philip, Jean and John (all deceased) and of Maxwell.
Sometime Warden of Tyndale House Cambridge and
sometime Principal of Ridley College Melbourne
‘Valiant for Truth’.
And:
Morris Leon Lamb
On July 24 2006
Beloved husband of the late Mildred
Brother in law of Wilma and Thomas and of the late Wallis and Sarah.
There were many fine epitaphs. Former General of the Salvation Army, Eva Burrows, wrote: ‘He was a great man of God and a man of the word’.
One student, like many, took to the internet and summed up the situation with a modern turn of phrase that Leon would have loved: ‘Today we lost a Biggie.’
Later it was said that he was ‘this prodigious and original thinker from the wrong side of the world who restored the credibility of evangelical scholarship and the centrality of the cross’.19
The funeral was held at Doncaster on Monday 31 July 2006. It was led by Barker, with remarks from Bayston and Leon’s surviving brother, Max. The sermon was preached by the Ridley principal, Adam, under the title ‘By grace, by Christ, by blood, by faith’ on Romans 3:9–16.20 The diverse congregation showed the breadth of acceptance of Leon across churchmanship and gender in his Anglican contacts and wider circle. The post-funeral refreshments would have fed a battalion of soldiers. The bubbly noise in the hall resembled the winning crowd after a grand final rather than a funeral gathering. Even at the refreshments, people remarked on the things they had learned of Leon. Kruse, a delightfully warm and gracious scholar, said: ‘I was so glad they explained his humming – when I’d go in and talk to him about a College or technical academic matter he would start humming – I thought I must have been the most boring person in the world.’21 As the people dispersed from the grounds of Holy Trinity Doncaster, there was some sadness, especially over Leon’s last years dogged by dementia. It had removed him from wider circles for several years. But the sadness was well and truly overshadowed, quickly dispelled as people reflected on the life and achievements of this remarkable servant of God.
Leon began in a little-known town and placed himself completely under God’s word. His humour was simple, and he possessed an iron discipline and a selfless outlook. He had a humility and respect in dealing with people. He championed the atonement as central to the faith. His ministry contained all this and that hard-to-define yet real God-given quality of being able to bring God’s truth right into the heart of a listener or reader. Embedded in a story of the last time Leon preached in Ridley’s chapel is a final word that Leon may well have liked all to hear:
I have one story to tell that sums the man up for me. It was in the early to mid 1990s. Leon came to the Ridley Chapel to preach. He was old and somewhat frail. However, he preached with passion. He preached the cross and at one stage he looked around the chapel and with great deliberation said:
‘You have been died for …’
and ‘you have been died for …’
and ‘you have been died for.’
Despite all his fame, achievements and publishing success he never forgot that he had been died for by Christ on a cross.22