On a Friday in 2007 I sat beside Jim Packer in a small Chinese Restaurant in Vancouver, Canada. I had no idea what I’d say to someone who, till the moment, had been as real to me as CS Lewis or John Stott. He was a name on the spine of a book. He had shelves to himself at the Christian bookstore. He was one of the twentieth-century’s most influential systematic theologians, particularly because of his commitment to writing for the laity and pastors, not academics.
The first thing I said to Dr. Packer was something along the lines of, “No thank you” as he tried to pass me some stir-fried chicken, “I’m a vegetarian.” Not a great start…or at least, it didn’t seem to be. Dr. Packer’s face lit up as he asked for the Szechuan green beans and offered me some. It turned out Dr. Packer loved spicy Chinese food, and he was right: the green beans were really good.
So what do you talk to a world famous theologian about, other than spicy Chinese food? We didn’t talk about theology, but about Shakespeare. Dostoyevsky, Tom Stoppard, Helen Mirren’s The Queen, the Ashes, and the state of Australian and English cricket. Dr. Packer was gracious, enthusiastic, and funny in conversation…nothing like my stereotypes of an Oxford scholar, conservative systematic theologian, or the last real Puritan. (And, as it turns out, Puritans were hardly the dour people they appear to be in popular culture, as Dr. Packer taught me in both history and real life.)
A little while later, I had the chance to learn from Dr. Packer about one of his great loves, Puritan Divine Richard Baxter. Having been tasked with looking into Baxter’s thinking around aging and death as part of my work as a research assistant, I came across Packer’s edition of A Grief Sanctified. The book was one of the most thoughtful and readable works on Baxter I’d found. But I had some questions.
Seeing Dr. Packer one evening after an Anglican Studies event at Regent College, I approached him to ask if he’d have any time to chat about Baxter. On hearing my request, Dr. Packer—then in his early 80s—clapped his hands and nearly danced a jig, giving me questions to consider and a list of books to read, including his 800 page dissertation! Of course, I’d already done some reading (after all, who would approach someone like Dr. Packer with such a request without doing some reading first!), so I started answering some of his questions and asking others.
As other people packed up tables and chairs, Dr. Packer and I had a lengthy conversation about Baxter, Puritans, grief, and hope. He took my questions seriously, challenged some of my interpretations of Baxter, and highlighted which of my questions were worth asking. He then asked me about my post-graduation plans. I said I was considering grad school. He nodded and simply said, “Yes.” Then he encouraged me to make an appointment so we could keep talking about Baxter.
I did not always agree with Dr. Packer. His views on women’s roles in the church are hardly my own, and his understanding of biblical inerrancy is not exactly how I understand the authority of scripture, to name a few. But I remember one moment in a class when, asked about the idea of the felix culpa, Dr Packer shook his head and said, “Well, at least it isn’t heresy.” He wouldn’t pretend to agree when he didn’t, but even in his fierce theological conservatism there was a generosity—a generosity that could even permit (some) difference but would still argue it out. And that generosity—along with his time, his learning, and his enthusiasm—helped set me on my own course as literary scholar and theologian.
As I learned of Dr. Packer’s death on Friday, I felt a deep, sad thankfulness, as I remembered the man who was everything people write about him: a brilliant theologian, a witty writer (with, as he put it, the “spiritual gift of alliteration”), a demanding but generous teacher, and the last real Puritan. But for me Dr. Packer’s real legacy is his example of intellectual rigor joined to humility, wit, generosity, and ceaseless praise of God. And that is the legacy for which I will always be very grateful.
grace & peace,
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