On the Closure of Spurgeon’s College (2025)

An Imaginary Conversation with Charles H. Spurgeon by Seidel Abel Boanerges

 

Spurgeon’s College Announces Closure After 169 Years of Service on 31 July 2025. What would the founder, Charles Haddon Spurgeon, himself say if he were here today? So, in this moment of lament and reflection, I did what creative theologians would do, I imagined a conversation. A dialogue not bound by time. I asked questions not just as a former dean, but as a fellow servant of the gospel, and in that space, I heard the echo of Spurgeon’s voice. Here is our conversation. May it comfort, challenge, and stir hope.

 

Seidel: Mr Spurgeon, thank you for joining us in spirit today, if not in body.

Charles: Dr Abel Boanerges, what a thunderous surname by the way. I like it!

Seidel: You can just call me ‘Seidel’ that’s fine with me.

Charles: Okay, as you wish.

Seidel: The College you founded in 1856 has now closed its doors after 169 years. It has been a place of prayer, scholarship, and gospel service. I imagine this moment would have moved you deeply.

Charles: Firstly, I want to thank you for this conversation and your dedicated years at the College. Let me say this at the outset: the College was never mine, but Christ’s. It always belonged to him. I simply helped kindle a fire. What is committed to Christ is never truly lost. The news grieves me, yes, but I am not without hope. The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord (Job 1:21). The light is not going out, it is being carried on.

Seidel: Wow, that is already so comforting. Many across the UK and the world are mourning the news of the College’s closure. What might you say to those feeling this loss so personally?

Charles: Ah, if there are tears, let them fall as sacred rain. There is no shame in sorrow. We grieve because we loved. That is no weakness; it is holy. Yet, let our mourning turn to memory, and our memory to mission. But do not weep as those who have no hope. Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning (Psa. 30:5).

Seidel, let me tell you something extraordinary; every tear that falls for the sake of the gospel is caught by a nail-pierced hand. Every graduate sent into local churches, schools, communities, and nations; every soul brought to Jesus through their ministry; these are treasures no financial collapse can erase. Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy (Psa. 126:5). My brother, note that this is not the end of the gospel, but another chapter in the grand story that our Lord is writing.

Seidel: Some may see this closure as a failure. How should we understand it?

Charles: The world counts success by balance sheets, but heaven weighs faithfulness. Spurgeon’s College endured wars, cultural revolutions, secular drift, and church decline. Yet, by God’s grace, it stood. The College obtained degree awarding powers, a historic achievement! It received the TEF Triple Gold rating for teaching excellence, student experience, and graduate outcomes. What other theological college in the UK could say the same? This is not failure. This is a life well lived, a race well run. If this is the end of an era, then let it be remembered not for how it closed, but for how it opened the scriptures to generations.

Seidel: Many of our lecturers have given years, even several decades, of faithful theological education. Do you have a word for them?

Charles: Oh, indeed I do. To every tutor, whether teaching theology, Greek, Hebrew, doctrine, pastoral care, or preaching, thank you. You were not merely passing on information; you were shaping the minds and hearts of those called by God.

Your task was never easy. You carried the burden of scholarship and the weight of theological training. Though the world may not honour your CVs, listen, heaven rejoices in your faithfulness. You are part of a noble line. Never underestimate what one lecture, one prayer, or one pastoral conversation in your tutor group can do in eternity. Your fingerprints are on every graduate who walked those lecture rooms, and that is no small thing. So please remember that.

Seidel: We also had dedicated professional staff, those working in admissions, reception, hospitality, IT, finance, operations and even those who kept the buildings clean and tidy. What would you say to them?

Charles: They are the invisible saints, and the Lord shall make them visible one day. To every professional staff member, thank you. Theological education is not just built on sermons and essays but on systems, schedules, clean floors, and cups of tea. I would add cigars to that list, but I understand it might not be so popular today.

Seidel: Haha, cigars, you loved them, didn’t you?

Charles: Indeed I did, Seidel. A good cigar is like a good sermon warm, slow-burning, and best enjoyed in silence after much prayer!

Seidel: Well, I must confess, I don’t smoke.

Charles: (leaning in with a twinkle in his eye): Ah, then clearly, sanctification is still a work in progress in your life! But take heart, you are in excellent company. I always said I would smoke to the glory of God. Some people raise their hands, I raised a cloud of fragrant thanksgiving.

Seidel: (laughing): I suppose we all have our ways!

Charles: Exactly! Some with cigars, others with spreadsheets. The Lord uses both.

Seidel: Great! Let me get back to my questions. What would you say to students, many of whom are mid-degree and uncertain about the future?

Charles: To every student: your calling is not cancelled. If God has placed his hand upon your life, no closure can remove it. Your path may now bend, but it is not broken. If you have sat at the feet of Christ, you are ready for the field.

Do not wait for comfort or applause. Preach Christ! Whether in a church or a café, on a stage or in a prison cell, preach Christ! Woe to me if I do not preach the gospel! (1 Cor. 9:16). God has not brought you this far to abandon you, my friend.

Seidel: The Baptist community is rallying. Bristol Baptist College, London Baptists, and other associations, along with the BUGB team at Didcot, are collaborating to establish a London hub that will support affected students. What is your response?

Charles: I rejoice! Oh, I rejoice! This, Seidel, is the Baptist spirit at its finest. When the house falls, the family gathers. To those institutions and leaders, thank you. You have not just spoken theology; you have lived it.

I urge the wider Baptist family across the UK to unite now more than ever, not for the sake of nostalgia, but for the sake of the gospel. Continue to be ‘Baptists Together’ in heart, hand, and hope. Let the legacy of Spurgeon’s College be not an ending, but a scattering of seeds into fertile Baptist soil.

Seidel: Mr Spurgeon, there has been some sadness and even controversy as your statue was recently boxed up, apparently to be sold to the highest bidder. What do you make of that?

Charles: Ah, the statue! Well, statues and memorials are but shadows of what truly matters. If the statue is sold or moved, it does not diminish the life or legacy it represents. Remember what Jesus said: Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also (Matt. 6:21). The treasure is not in bronze or marble, but in the hearts transformed by the gospel.

I would say to those concerned: do not grieve over the statue. Instead, grieve if the gospel grows cold. Let us invest our passion in living stones, the people called by God. A word to whoever buys that statue: may it be a reminder that true ministry is costly, humble, and faithful – just like the man it portrays!

Seidel: Mr Spurgeon, as you know, I recently wrote a lament and a prayer in response to the College’s closure. It’s a raw, heartfelt cry to God, grappling with grief, confusion, and yet holding on to hope. I wonder if you could share your response to that?

Charles: Seidel, thanks for this beautiful lament. It speaks deeply to the soul of the Christian journey, one marked by sorrow, faith, and expectation. This lament echoes the biblical tradition of holy mourning. The repeated refrain especially moves me that you shaped based on the College’s motto that I chose – et teneo, et teneor (I hold and am held).

Your prayer beautifully invites God’s presence among those who grieve, staff, students, trustees, alumni, and friends, and asks for comfort and renewed calling. It reminds me that though a College may close, the work of the gospel, the mission of training men and women, continues in new forms and new places.

Seidel: We know that Spurgeon’s College isn’t alone. Many Bible colleges across the UK are struggling. What would you say to them?

Charles: It’s true. Theological education is under pressure. Costs are rising, students are fewer, and secular society places little value on eternal truths. But let me remind every Bible college and training hub across the UK: you are still needed.

Whether you train five or five hundred, your work shapes the next generation of gospel workers. Find new ways. Be bold in innovation, but rooted in the Word. Don’t compare yourselves. Christ measures not by size, but by surrender, not by finances, but by faithfulness. Let each institution fan into flame whatever embers remain. Even a single spark can start a revival.

Seidel: If you could offer one final word over Spurgeon’s College, what would it be?

Charles: Let it be said of this College: It was never about Spurgeon; it was always about Christ! Let the work go on. Let the gospel ring out and let the light shine, even from the ashes. Amen!