Andrew Anderson (1935 - 2025)

Andrew Anderson was called home on 1st November 2025.  FIEC President in 1987, Andrew was the first to serve a longer term, becoming President again from 1992 to 1995. He was married to Pearl, who survives him; they had two daughters, Fiona and Colleen.  

Born on 2 June 1935 in Mill Hill, London, Andrew was evacuated to Kilmarnock in Scotland during the Second World War, before returning to London for school. He became a Christian at an early age, and served as president of the Christian Union during his time at London School of Economics, going on to train at London Bible College.

Andrew became pastor at a church in Kent for eight years and, in 1970, at Philip Street Baptist Church, where he stayed for eighteen years.

Philip Street was located in a former residential of Bristol, diminished by bombing in the war. Under Andrew’s ministry, it became a significant preaching centre in Bristol that grew through conversions and Christians attracted by his ministry. The church also developed a large Christian youth work and a Sunday School ministry to nearby estates.

After that, Andrew served at a church in New Zealand and at an English-speaking church in Brussels, Belgium. He preached itinerantly in the UK and in support of church groups he had developed relationships in various countries.

At his funeral on 21 November 2025, family recalled his big-heartedness and zest for life. Forever with an amusing story to pass on, he would laugh heartily at it, as if hearing it for the first time himself. That was him. In retirement, there would always be a project on the go. He especially loved taking people out for adventures on his boat – apparently, not for the faint-hearted.

Though perhaps viewed primarily as a preacher, people spoke about how valuable his personal counsel had been. Though from a priviledged background, his father having made money in construction, he had an ability to relate to all through taking a genuine interest in individuals and their lives.

He enjoyed great relationships with ghis randchildren, where his love and personal attention bridged the generations.

Committed to the mission of FIEC, he served on the FIEC Council for many years spanning the 1980s and the 1990s. Bev Savage, a colleague on the Council, remembers how good Andrew was at handling difficult discussions:  

“He was among the senior members of the Council.  However, he managed to combine a serious approach to life with a wonderful sense of humour which often served to relieve intense discussions and awkward situations. He was disarmingly skilled at reading people, a skill that must have served him well in pastoral ministry. 

“Andrew was a dear and generous pastor, friend, and encourager to many”  

His ministry at Philip Street was in an era before home groups and evangelistic courses were commonplace and when few independent churches had staff teams.  He led a large church, apart from a few years with an Assistant Pastor, as the only paid staff member.

In those eighteen years, quite a few were shaped by his expository ministry and talent for making theology accessible and went into full-time Christian work. Nevertheless, he would reflect that he wished he had done more intentionally to train the next generation of gospel workers.

What sticks with me is his gospel preaching. At the funeral, Mike Cain of Emmanuel Bristol, shared Andrew’s frequent sermon feedback: "remember to keep ringing the gospel bell".

He had such a warm way of doing it himself, preaching like he was talking person to person, persuading you to receive Christ. I do not know if I am right in thinking that sort of imploring is rarer today. Certainly, I wish I could emulate it better.

It is easy to slip into presenting the gospel as just an elegant solution to a need set up earlier in the talk. In my pre-teens I listened avidly to Andrew’s forty-minute gospel sermons and what I heard was a message about a wonderful person to people who needed him.

Aptly we sung: ‘I know that while in heaven he stands, no tongue can bid me thence depart’