‘I am just a man who happens to have a gift for Bible languages.’ So remarked Alec Motyer to me in the lounge of his home in late July this year. He was distinguishing himself, with characteristic modesty, from the likes of J. I. Packer and John Stott.
A few weeks later, on 9 September, there was standing room only in the Poynton parish church in Cheshire for his funeral following his death on 26 August.
Others have said: ‘One of the most truly remarkable men we have had the privilege to know’; ‘He opened Scripture in ways that brought – all at once and in great clarity – awe, comfort, illumination and rebuke.’
