This month sees the publication of a new biography of John Stott by Roger Steer. Here we carry the section which tells of the conversion of Frances Whitehead, who became John Stott’s secretary.
In 1951, a young woman named Frances had taken a temporary job with the BBC, working in their offices at the Langham Hotel, opposite All Souls Church. One evening she was walking with another BBC secretary past the church steps. From the pavement they could see the warm glow of lights in the building, illuminating the painting of Christ crowned with thorns, hanging at the east end.
‘Let’s go in and have a look at that church’, said Frances to her colleague.
In the porch she saw a notice announcing Friday lunchtime concerts. Frances decided to go one Friday but was disappointed to ̃nd only a handful of people present, and no one made her feel welcome. She didn’t go back.
Sermon’s grip
Some months later she was walking in her lunch-hour past St. Peter’s Church in nearby Vere Street. The bells were ringing, the sun was shining, she was happy, and on the spur of the moment she went in. The church was full, and she was gripped by the sermon. John Stott was preaching, though she didn’t know his name. She began attending the mid-week lunch-hour services in St. Peter’s regularly, drawn by the powerful preaching. It was some time before she discovered that St. Peter’s was linked to All Souls, and she began attending the church regularly on a Sunday morning.
On New Year’s Eve in 1952, John preached on the story of Nicodemus, followed by his familiar appeal to ‘open the door to Christ’ based on Revelation 3.20. Frances listened and found the sermon compelling and personal. She secretly made her response to Christ, but was too shy to respond to the invitation to go forward to have a talk with the preacher. She spoke to no one, and instead walked quietly home on her own to her bedsit in the early hours of New Year’s Day.
Making herself known
About nine months later, Frances felt that she ought somehow to make herself known and become more involved in the church’s life. She picked up a congregational register form and found a little box you could tick if you wanted to help out in the church. She ticked the box, having no idea what this ‘help’ might involve, but thinking that perhaps someone would then make the next move.
When the Rector himself got in touch and arranged to talk with her, she told him that her name was Frances Whitehead. ‘I think he soon realised that I must be a new Christian’, she recalled, ‘and, because time was short, he invited me to come back again for a second talk. This time he took me through “the way of salvation”.’
At John’s suggestion, Frances joined an All Souls ‘nursery class’ to learn the basics of the Christian faith. Then she was given the practical job of addressing envelopes for the church magazine. Still later, she led a nursery class herself and went through the ten-week annual training school.
By 1956 she was beginning to wonder if God was calling her to leave the BBC and go to Bible College, perhaps to train for missionary work, so she went to see John to ask his advice. After discussing various options, John came up with an idea of his own.
Job offer
‘You’d better come and be my secretary’, he said.
Frances didn’t take the remark seriously. But about a week later her phone rang at the BBC. It was John.
‘Have you thought any more about it?’
‘More about what?’
‘About coming to be my secretary.’
‘No! I didn’t think you were serious!’
Once more, Frances went to see John.
‘I want formally to invite you to come and work as church secretary.’
Frances accepted the invitation with much trepidation, fearing that she would never cope with the demands of the job. Once ensconced at a desk in a corner of the Rectory drawing room, however, she began to help in the general administration of the church’s busy and varied programme, while also trying to keep pace with the Rector’s daily volume of dictation. Later she learnt to maintain the work of John’s private office during his frequent absences, dealing with correspondence from all over the world, typing his books and articles, arranging meetings and interviews. For many years she handled most of the day-to-day routine work and ̃nances of the various organisations John founded.
Omnicompetent?
In whatever John undertook, she was secretary, administrator, bursar, and occasionally caterer and cook — closer to him than anyone else. ‘When I ̃rst joined the staff, all was exceedingly formal. We stood somewhat in awe of John Stott who called everyone by their Christian name (I was “Frances” from the day I ̃rst met him), but no female church member was ever allowed to use his!’
‘Frances’ she has remained: but with affectionate additions: ‘Frances the omnicompetent’ at times, and to the early inhabitants of the Rectory, ‘Frances — SOAK’ (Source of All Knowledge).
This article is an excerpt from Inside Story — The Life of John Stott by Roger Steer, published by IVP (£12.99, hardback, 288 pages, ISBN 978-1-84474-404-6), and is printed with permission.