The Rt Rev Maurice Wood, who has died aged 90, was the flamboyant yet hugely popular bishop of Norwich from 1971 to 1985. He was very good with ordinary people and brought in young clergy to parishes around the city, giving it a great sense of energy. A friend and admirer of Billy Graham, he sponsored the American evangelist’s visits to Cambridge and Norwich in 1955 and spoke on his platforms in Japan and the US.
Born into an evangelical and teetotal family, Wood was a classic evangelical of the 1930s mould, nurtured by his time at Monkton Combe school, near Bath, Queens’ College and Ridley Hall, Cambridge, evangelical camps, bible classes, the Crusaders – and the suffering he witnessed as a chaplain with the commandos during the D-day landings, for which he was awarded the DSC.
A man of simple faith and great zeal, he was successively incumbent of two evangelical flagship parishes, St Ebbe’s, Oxford (1947-52), and St Mary’s, Islington (1952-61). He then became principal of Oak Hill Theological College, Southgate, his warm-hearted pastoral care attracting a good number of students, including many graduates. While never claiming to be an academic himself, and content with an uncritical reading of the scriptures, he added to the fortunes of the college by inviting such evangelical rising stars as John Simpson, later dean of Canterbury, John B Taylor, later bishop of St Albans, and George Carey, later archbishop of Canterbury, to join the staff. The Opportunity Knocks weekends run by the college played no small part in attracting men to the ministry.
Maurice Wood was an extraordinary figure, profoundly respected, and about him there were endless stories told. It seemed when I was a seminarian in the 60s that a new tale about Maurice would circulate every few weeks or so. He was one of those men who held high the banner of biblical faith in the Church of England when evangelical Christianity was far from respected. This obituary captures him so well, but there are many others like the retired Bishop of the Rio Grande who could say far more about Maurice than me. We always spoke of him as Maurice behind his back, but few of us would dare call him that to his face!