I move on to Robert Pope's chapter on ‘Lloyd-Jones and Fundamentalism’. In ‘the eyes of non-evangelicals . . . Most would not even have known his name', and those who did know, 'branded him as “fundamentalist" and fanatical.’ So reads Alec Motyer’s comment in a letter to John Brencher, Lloyd-Jones’ not altogether sympathetic biographer.7 Whatever be the validity of Motyer's comment there can be no doubt that ‘fundamentalist’ was an epithet that was hurled in Lloyd-Jones’ face time and time again. From his famous but little-known controversy (it had been in Welsh) with Aneirin Talfan Davies, a son of the Calvinistic Methodist manse, now turned Anglican and who had risen to eminence in the Welsh BBC,8 to lesser men who derisively dismissed the Doctor and his followers as Martinets, the charge was not infrequently made. It had been the young J. I. Packer who had written what has become the classic refutation of the accusation that often has been charged against evangelicals. I refer to Fundamentalism and the Word of God.9 Douglas Johnson’s article on the subject in The Christian Graduate back in the 1950s should have laid the charge to rest perpetually. But the terminology in more recent years has been widened beyond mere evangelicalism to be laid at the feet of those of any religion or none who would take their beliefs seriously and deem any violent action in its defence commendable. ‘Give a dog a bad name . . .’ seems to be the principle that lies behind the recrudescence of this charge.
But strong as were his evangelical convictions Lloyd-Jones never came into the ‘fundamentalist’ category. His was not a bigoted advocacy of the Christian faith, but one based on rational biblical exegesis and the Bible's own claims. On his first transatlantic visit in 1932 he met up with the scion of Canadian evangelicalism T. T. Shields, Minister of Jarvis Street Baptist Church, Toronto, but Lloyd-Jones disagreed with him because of his belligerent manner in advocating the gospel. Similarly at home in South Wales he took the same attitude with R. B. Jones, Minister of the Tabernacle, Porth, although he often preached for him. When challenged along those lines his reply would be that he preferred the term ‘Conservative Evangelical’(p.217). But he made no bones about the fact that the men responsible for the original composition The Fundamentals were simply Christian men advocating the essential elements of the gospel. With the likes of them he had no arguments on these matters. Unfortunately the chapter ends with a conclusion that somewhat leaves the slur of ‘fundamentalism’ still hanging over Lloyd-Jones. It brings together his ‘advocacy of withdrawal from doctrinally mixed denominations’ and ‘his suspicion of academia especially academic theology’ (p.217). But these in no way justify the charge.
Again, and for the reasons already stated above, I pass by Robert Strivens' chapter on ‘Lloyd-Jones and Karl Barth’. Strivens does show that even in Lloyd-Jones’ early ministerial career in the 1930s, when many British Protestants were becoming wildly enthusiastic about Barth and Barthianism as though it would prove to be the final nail in the coffin of liberalism, Lloyd-Jones was wiser. He read the man but remained sceptical and basically believed that Barth was fundamentally flawed as an expositor of biblical religion as re-established at the time of the Reformation.
But the next chapter by John Maiden on ‘Lloyd-Jones and Roman Catholicism’ simply cannot be overlooked, for it is here, as much as at any point, that there is a direct conflict between Lloyd-Jones’ position and what has become the emerging attitude to the Roman Catholic faith, not least amongst some Evangelicals. The basic question left in the air remains whether or not Lloyd-Jones was something of a blind bigot, never able to shake free of the prejudiced and typically Protestant nonconformist view in which he would have been brought up. In other words, how does the Roman Catholic Church’s claim that she is semper eadem comport with the changes that have taken place since Vatican II?
Once again it is worth noting that this paper was not given at the Conference, but undoubtedly it highlights an important aspect of Lloyd-Jones’ thought and one for which he has been much criticised. As much as any other section of the book it forces on the reader the question as to whether Lloyd-Jones was something of a hidebound relic, prevented by his inherited and blinkered views from moving with the times, or on the contrary did he display remarkable prescience and a discernment that has proved accurate in the light of subsequent developments in the evangelical scene? As Maiden points out, Lloyd-Jones displayed a consistent attitude in his view of Roman Catholicism despite the variation in appearances on the part of Catholicism over the decades of the 20th century. It is true that he became more outspoken in his criticisms of Roman Catholicism in particular from the 1960s onwards, but this was no new theme to appear in his thinking. The publication of the Catechism in 1994 simply confirmed the accuracy of Lloyd-Jones’ criticisms and of the attitude to Rome taken by the XXXIX Articles.
During the first year of his ministry in Aberavon the proposed 1928 Prayer Book was rejected by Parliament. Subsequent years saw other Christians being dubbed ‘separated brethren’ by Roman Catholics and Vatican II introduced what seemed to be a kinder and less traditionally rigid structure. However, Lloyd-Jones’ attitude remained unchanged.
Perhaps it should be mentioned that none of this affected his attitudes towards and contacts with individual Roman Catholics. His own brother Vincent while at Oxford came heavily under the influence of Roman Catholics such as G. K. Chesterton, Hillaire Belloc, Evelyn Waugh and Ronald Knox (p.236), although he never converted to Rome. Lloyd-Jones was fully aware of the continuing catholic and high church tendency in the Church of England and perhaps even more so in the Church of Wales.
His post-1960 more outspoken attitude can probably be explained by two factors. Firstly, the subtle but, Lloyd-Jones would maintain, superficial changes in Rome’s presentation of what basically was a static power structure gave the appearance of moving with the times, while in reality adhering to what it had ever been. This had been its genius over the centuries. Secondly, he saw the softening attitude in particular on the part of Anglican evangelicals to the Roman Catholic Church and its claims. The old anti-Roman spirit which had been a marked feature of the evangelical Anglican position especially since the rise of the Oxford Movement in the 1830s was on the wane. One by one, barriers which had been heralded as bastions and which, were they to fall, would indicate that the time had come for an exodus from the Church of England, were effectively dismantled. Subscription by Ordinands to the Book of Common Prayer, and the XXXIX Articles – all were swept away by Parliamentary or Synodical decision and the legalising of priestly vestments had been accepted. Visits to Rome by a succession of Archbishops and Moderators followed, culminating in Pope and Prelate exchanging the kiss of peace.
All this was compounded by developments within evangelical Anglicanism that seemed to indicate in no uncertain terms which way the ecclesiastical tide was flowing. The scene within the Church of England was undoubtedly changing, as was evidenced with the 1965 publication of All In Each Place: Towards Reunion in England, edited by Packer10 and emphasising that future proposals for Anglican and Methodist reunion should not ‘create conscientious difficulties for Anglo-Catholics’ (p.250). The Keele Congress, which was to follow in 1967, confirmed these trends. I personally remember sitting next to J. I. Packer at the December 1966 Puritan conference at tea and raising with him what, to me, was the somewhat incredible prospect of the then Archbishop of Canterbury – Dr Ramsay – being asked to open the Congress. Packer's response was that they could anticipate what Ramsay was likely to say and that he, Packer, was scheduled to give a keynote address following this which would provide opportunity for a riposte. But you can read that address in the published report of the conference in vain if you are looking for an evangelical response to what the Archbishop had said. Pope John XXIII’s benign features and his policy of aggiornamento, seemed to have had something of a soporific effect on the biblical and evangelical consciences of our brethren.
Lloyd-Jones’ concerns at Rome's claims in the areas of Authority (p.237), Ecclesiology (p.238), Worship (p239), Eschatology (p.240) and Temporal matters (p.241) were all swept under the carpet and reduced to the level of outdated criticisms that took no account of current changes. His fundamental position had been well expressed in one of his sermons in the Ephesians 6 series and subsequently published as a stand-alone booklet in 1966 under the title Roman Catholicism11: ‘I would not hesitate to assert that this system, known as Roman Catholicism, is the devil's greatest masterpiece. It is such a departure from the Christian faith and the New Testament teaching, that I would not hesitate with the reformers of the 16th century to describe it as “apostasy".’12
What I have already described as Lloyd-Jones’ prescience is possibly discernible in this whole area. The early accommodating attitude towards Anglo-Catholics seen already in Packer was to develop. Sadly, he has become one of the leading lights in the rapprochement advocated by ‘Evangelicals and Catholics Together’ and by his leadership in the movement embracing Evangelicals and Anglo-Catholics in opposition to what seems to be the Pan-Anglican position that would legalise homosexual bishops in the Anglican hierarchical structure.
Maiden also touches on the dissolution of the old Puritan Conference and its replacement (after a year’s interval) by the Westminster Conference in 1971, following the publication of Growing into Union: Proposals for Forming a United Church in England.13 Packer, Colin Buchanan (both Church of England Evangelicals) were joint authors, together with Graham Leonard (who subsequently joined the Roman Catholic Church) and Eric Mascall (a well-known High Church scholar). The four authors had each ‘agreed on the whole text’. Keele’s successor, the National Evangelical Anglican Congress at Nottingham in 1977 seemed to continue the process. Roman Catholics were described as ‘fellow Christians’ and repentance was offered for previous denials of this fact.
Meanwhile Lloyd-Jones was involved in the foundation of the London Theological Seminary (LTS). Although he personally had never been a member of any Protestant society he was very happy to establish the LTS ‘as not merely an evangelical but a definitely Protestant institution’ (p.257).
As Maiden points out, Lloyd-Jones’ objections were to Roman Catholicism as a body and a church. Personally he was on good, but uncompromising, terms with individual Roman Catholics. One of them, H. W. J. Edwards who lived in Trealaw in the Rhondda Valley, was an old-style G. K. Chesterton-like Roman Catholic yet he would go to Westminster Chapel to hear Lloyd-Jones and corresponded with him over the years. It was not that Lloyd-Jones believed that no Roman Catholics were Christians. In this, of course, he was absolutely in line with John Calvin and the other magisterial Reformers. But, like them, he would maintain that such were Christians, despite, not because of, the Roman Catholic Church.
This brings me on to what in many ways is the most surprising and at the same time possibly the most valuable chapter in the book. It is by one of the joint editors, Andrew Atherstone, a tutor at Wycliffe Hall, Oxford, and is entitled: ‘Lloyd-Jones and the Anglican Secession Crisis’.
It is surprising in that it is written by an Anglican who is a tutor at the theological college which numbers Dr Packer amongst its distinguished alumni, but who contrives to give a remarkably fair and objective account of the whole furore surrounding Lloyd-Jones' notorious, some might say infamous, 1966 Evangelical Alliance address. He does it in a balanced way – much more so, be it said, than the tone and innuendo of some of the other contributions. To a real degree he succeeds in taking the lid off the pan of theological and denominational issues that were seething in 1966.
Earlier in the decade J. A. T. Robinson, Bishop of Woolwich, had published Honest to God and had also appeared as a witness for the defence in the notorious ‘Lady Chatterley’ trial; Mass Vestments and stone tables were legalised; ambiguously worded prayers for the dead were reintroduced, and the Prayer Book ‘was undermined by a bevy of new experimental services’ (p.262). These factors plus, for example, archiepiscopal visits to Rome precipitated not maybe a flood, but the beginnings of a trickle of Anglican defections usually to nonconformist Independent churches – a trickle that was to continue for some years to come. Atherstone lists them in the 1960s from Eric Lane, Herbert Carson, Moshe Radcliffe and others down to John Rosser and Peter Beale. Altogether they add up to about twenty, considerably more than the two quoted by John Brencher in his rather tendentious biography of Lloyd-Jones (p.262).
As Atherstone comes to his concluding paragraph he seems to leave it as an open question, ‘Who was to blame for shattering British evangelicalism’s peaceful coexistence?’ Was it Lloyd-Jones or Anglicans of the like of Stott, Packer, Buchanan, and other leaders in the Keele and subsequent Congresses? Atherstone certainly makes it clear as he puts it that ‘the testimony of these Anglican seceders of the 1960s and early 1970s has been largely airbrushed from the history books, resulting in a skewed simplistic picture of exclusivist Independent versus ecumenical Anglicans.’ (p.292).
What seems to be evident from his balanced account of these years is that the primary questions that Lloyd-Jones was posing in his 1966 address – What is a Christian? and, What is a church? – have been repeatedly sidestepped during the reporting of the debate and in the subsequent controversy. As a result it is surely less than surprising that the fundamental point that Lloyd-Jones was making in 1966 that, despite our lesser differences on the big essentials, Evangelicals of various hues are truly one with each other on these matters and, therefore, that we ought to be seen to be one in an age in which the very nature and continuing existence of biblical Christianity has been lost. In other words, surely the gospel demanded more than occasional trans-denominational fellowship such as existed in evangelicalism generally. Especially was this so if commitment to denominational bodies that had moved far from their evangelical origins was held to be sacrosanct. The latter sadly proved to be the case judging by the widespread reaction against his call.
To us, the point might seem to be obvious. But for whatever reasons – and they are various – not all view it in that way. As an unequivocal nonconformist and a dissenter I cannot but call attention to what I would describe as ‘the strange establishment mystique’ that seems still to dominate the thinking of many people, even fellow nonconformists. It can find no ground in the New Testament pattern of the church (nor, it should be said, in the overall biblical pattern as it develops in both Old and New Testaments). The attitude was epitomised in the arguments of Julian Charley (formerly one of Stott’s curates) reported by Atherstone (p.275). Old style Disestablishmentarianism might have slipped off the ecclesiastical and political agendas in the 21st century, and in an anti-religious age does not seem likely to make a return. But the fact remains that even in a paradoxical way among Freechurchmen and women ‘Establishmentitis’ seems almost to be built subconsciously into their character. They assume the rightful priority of the Church of England because it is the ‘national’ church and they dutifully tug their forelocks and bow and scrape in the appointed manner as they take their (subordinate) place in the procession of ecclesiastical dignitaries.
Undoubtedly there is more than a touch of this in the attitude of many Anglicans to the whole question of ecclesiology. Probably it was because he was never willing to kow-tow to this position that Lloyd-Jones was regarded as such an irritant by the generality who bothered with him at all, and more particularly by many Anglicans whose complacent ecclesiastical plumage was ruffled by the arguments of one who was not even an Englishman (and was not afraid to say so), even suggesting that a fair degree of snobbery probably lay behind what might be dressed up in pious language.
Certainly, as Atherstone’s account makes clear, there was something of a well-laid plan put into effect at the 1965 Islington Clerical Conference. ‘The air was thick . . . with the protestations of undying loyalty to “our beloved Church"’ (p.265) as the Church of England Newspaper reported.14 It continued, ‘One hopes that all the pink-faced young curates, secret thoughts of spectacular secession lurking in their breasts, felt suitably chastened for their cogitated disloyalty.’ Predictably Anglican Evangelicals’ big-guns were used to drive the message home – from Peter Johnson (Vicar of St Mary's, Islington), Maurice Wood (then Principal of Oak Hill Theological College, but later to become Bishop of Norwich), Roger Beckwith (then Librarian of Latimer house) and John Pearce (Rector of St Paul's, Homerton). Later in the year John Stott specifically addressed the issue, speaking at the annual meeting of the Church Society, as did George Marchant (Vicar of St Nicholas, Durham) together with Dr Packer at the Eclectic Society conference at Swanwick in September.
Later still Packer was to complain that Lloyd-Jones’ 1966 call was a ‘campaign of words without plans.’ (p.272). This position was elaborated years later by Carl Trueman who complained that Lloyd-Jones’ vague alternative to Anglicanism was ‘a non-ecclesiastical, non-confessional disaster.’ (p.272). Presumably he means that the Doctor had not produced a Presbyterian blueprint on which the forthcoming seceders could structure their theology. This is interesting as it betrays either an ignorance or, more likely, a rejection of Lloyd-Jones’ often argued distinction between the primaries and secondaries in the pecking order of evangelical doctrinal priorities. It is well known that into the latter category he was willing to place matters of church government, Independency, Presbyterianism and even Episcopacy. Important as they were they simply did not compare with the fundamental issues that were and still are at stake in a situation which calls into question the very nature of the gospel.
On any reckoning this chapter by Atherstone must be considered as the most important one in the book. It is remarkably dispassionate and fair and does seem to hold out hope for future dialogue, if he is speaking for more than himself. Any past recriminations must be laid to rest and a new attempt be made at reconciliation between those who, as Lloyd-Jones truly believed, were brothers in Christ.
It would be unrealistic to put the final chapter of the book into the same category. Written by John Coffey, a Professor of History at Leicester University, and entitled ‘Lloyd-Jones and the Protestant past’, it is an attempt to position and assess Lloyd-Jones’ undoubted fascination with history and its employment in the mid-20th-century scene. ‘The histories we tell shape who we are’, says Coffey as he begins the chapter (p.293). But then in the pages that follow he virtually maintains that the histories told by the Doctor and the contemporary shapes he derived from them were really aberrations. As he proceeds through the chapter the strong disagreement of the author with Lloyd-Jones’ method and conclusions becomes evident.
Let me illustrate the mood of Coffey's position with a series of verbatim comments that he makes. They show something of his mindset. ‘For Lloyd-Jones, the “technical scholar" was to be subordinate to the “biblical theologian" when it came to formulating doctrine’ (p.298). ‘When the Doctor provided his diagnosis of evangelicalism's ills at the Kingham Conference that established the Tyndale Fellowship in 1941, G. T. Manley slowly turned his back to the speaker in silent protest’ (p.321).15 ‘And since those around Lloyd-Jones were deeply shaped by a pietistic reaction against the social gospel, they displayed little interest in retrieving the riches of Puritan political thought’ (p.300). ‘Warnings against “intellectualism" and “scholasticism" recurred throughout Lloyd-Jones’ lectures and addresses. They might be seen as part of a consistently anti-establishment ethos, which made him suspicious of the English metropolitan elite, state churches, high culture and the ivory towers of academia’ (p.303). ‘. . . His own brand of historical reflection had little time for scholarly concerns. Instead, it was unashamedly utilitarian’ (p.304). ‘During a decade of unprecedented cultural upheaval, Lloyd-Jones was dwelling on the past. The perils of the ecumenical movement loomed larger than the challenge of secularism. Despite Vatican II, he thought that little had changed; contemporary Protestants faced a Catholic Church that was at least as bad as in Luther’s day. Rome was not allowed to shift its ground and evangelicals did not need to adapt’ (p.305). ‘Lloyd-Jones’ account of history was avowedly partisan. He found it to be impossible to be objective about Anglicanism’ (p.305). ‘He recycled the old cliché that the Church of England in the early 18th century “was dead" . . .’ (p.305). ‘The strange appeal of Anglicanism he could only explain by resort to national stereotypes: “The via media appeals to the Englishman," he suggested, and, “the typical Englishman has a dislike of definitions"’ (p.305). ‘. . . he had neither the training nor the resources of a professional historian’. (p.306) '[His 1967 Luther address] . . . was a ringing endorsement of the Whig interpretation of history’ (p.306). His views that the Reformation was led by a Spirit-filled man whereas the ecumenical movement was one of professors and ecclesiastics, ‘. . . resonated with pietist evangelicals, but it was dubious history’ (p.308). ‘English Protestant history was now a tale of struggle between Puritan heroes and Anglican villains and there was simply no room for Packer’s (sic), for Puritans who tried to work within Anglicanism’ (p.313). And so on!
That Lloyd-Jones was deeply interested in history is undeniable as is his support of the Banner of Truth Trust from the late 1950s onwards. But even here he is blamed. This ‘Puritan Publishing House’ has become very selective in its republication policy. Thus it has created a rather limited range of ‘approved’ Puritans, rather than reproducing something akin to the whole range of Puritan literary enterprise from Milton to the Arminian John Goodwin.
It is not surprising, therefore, to discover that in virtually every one of his historical parallels Lloyd-Jones ends up on the wrong side of the most up-to-date opinions amongst historians. Thus the Doctor turns out to have been out of touch with modern scholarship in what he believed and taught from Luther to the 19th century. . . . He tended to remake the Reformers in the image of later evangelicals’ (p.308). This was ‘dubious history’. His views on the Puritans needed to be corrected by those of Patrick Collinson. With regard to the 18th century his views of ‘the eighteenth-century twist’, it is alleged, failed to see it was downgrading Puritanism in upgrading Revival. And in the 19th century Charles Finney becomes ‘the chief culprit’ (p.320) whose heavy hand has been upon all subsequent evangelical developments. As for the 20th century he was highly critical of the resurgence of the social gospel and the cultural revolution led by Schaeffer and Rookmaaker. So in the judgment of this professional historian we can say that Lloyd-Jones was basically wrong all along the line.
Eventually Coffey concludes that as a result of the unfolding of all these developments there are now four competing views of true Puritanism: 1. That of Lloyd-Jones; 2. That of J. I. Packer; 3. R. T. Kendall's version; and, 4. Carl Trueman's return to Scholastic Reformed orthodoxy. He would seem to opt for some combination of Packer and Trueman as being the most satisfactory.
In any case, what many would judge to have been one of Lloyd-Jones’ strengths, namely his seeking of relevant historical comparisons, turns out in fact, at least in Coffey’s eyes, to have been his Achilles' heel in that he has used, or should we say, misused it to illegitimately extract a historical parallel when none actually exists.
With regard to the late 20th century revival of enthusiasm for social involvement Coffey, like several others, assumes that the Doctor’s scepticism about its evangelical validity was born of the prejudice of his upbringing and of the circles in which he moved. But here, as in so many points, Coffey is simply wrong. Such views conveniently ignore the fact that for the first decade of his ministry Lloyd-Jones spent his time in what was possibly one of the most socially deprived areas of the British Isles. It had been his desire to go to such an area rather than to a more salubrious pastorate. He knew full well the arguments that were being advanced for the social application of the gospel as a means of evangelism. However, unlike many of the latter's advocates he knew that nothing but the New Testament gospel proclaimed in the power of the Spirit would touch the problem and give any hope of a remedy. He practised what he believed and it worked!
In summary, therefore, this volume is certainly valuable inasmuch as it seeks to review objectively the life and teachings of a very great man. Reading it, one comes away with the distinct impression that had he acted upon the advice of many of his critics his ministry would have been very different. No doubt it would have been. In fact it would have been something of a flop! I well remember being confronted for the first time by someone who had come from a not dissimilar background to that of Lloyd-Jones. I was travelling back from Oxford, where I was a student, to my home in South Wales. At Didcot we picked up the train from Paddington. I found myself in a compartment (this must have been back in 1960) that contained two other men. It turned out that one was a Brethren missionary on furlough. The other who must have been an octogenarian was a retired Annibynnwr (Independent or Welsh Congregational) Welsh speaking retired Minister from London. I took out the book that I had brought with me to read on the train. It was the first volume of Lloyd-Jones’ sermons on The Sermon on the Mount, just published by the IVF press. My elderly companion recognised what the book was and who was its author. Immediately he initiated a conversation – or should I say an argument – that continued all the way to Cardiff, to the bemused and largely silent amazement of the Brethren missionary. ‘Why had not a man like him done an Albert Schweitzer and gone to darkest Africa where the medical needs were so acute?’ And so for the next two hours the discussion, or disputation, went on. To my rather young and relatively innocent eyes it was a revelation. I was being confronted by antagonism bordering on hatred that was being directed at the greatest preacher I had ever heard. It was, I say, something of an eye-opener to me. In some ways it prepared me for more of the same sort to come. But what I was quite unready for was the way in which about a half a dozen years later so many of the evangelical community were willing to part company with the man whom, they believed, was making a terrible mistake in the call he was issuing. There was, of course, no vitriolic hatred such as I perceived in the railway compartment. It was replaced by faint praise and words to the effect that ‘If only he had not become so divisive . . .’
This book will raise again these issues and will stimulate thought that is still supremely relevant to the contemporary ecclesiastical scene. If anything, the situation is far worse today than it was in 1966 and in Lloyd-Jones’ later years. No longer do we face the hostility of indifference. It has been replaced by arrogant opposition bordering on ridicule as any semblance of being a ‘Christian nation’ becomes increasingly farcical. What is a Christian? and, What is a Church? are still the questions that must be pondered and then answered with clarity by the church before she can hope to make any real impression on a hostile world. Conviction on those questions that is biblically based coupled with the heavenly anointing of preaching in the power of the Spirit remains the answer.
If due reconsideration of such issues moves us in that direction, the book will have done its work.
6. The concluding part of the the review begun here.
7. p.198. Cf. John Brencher, Martyn Lloyd-Jones (1899–1981) and Twentieth-Century Evangelicalism (Milton Keynes: Paternoster, 2002), p.195f.
8. A translation of some of the altercation between the two men can be found in Iain Murray’s D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones: Letters 1919-1981 (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1994), pp. 143-163.
9. London: IVF, 1958.
10. Appleford: Marcham Manor Press, 1965.
11. D. M.Lloyd-Jones, Roman Catholicism (London: Evangelical Press, 1966).
12. op. cit., p.2.
13. London: S.P.C.K., 1970.
14. 15 January 1965, p.16.
15. Cf. T. A. Noble, Tyndale House and Fellowship (Nottingham, 2006), p.34f.
This review by Graham Harrison was given at a meeting of the Westminster Fellowship, and has been modified by the author for publication here. Rev Graham Harrison was pastor of Emmanuel Evangelical Church, Newport, Wales for 47 years until his retirement in January 2010.