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About the Book
In "Paul and the Trinity," Wesley Hill examines the Apostle Paul's writings to uncover his understanding of the Trinity. Hill argues that Paul's theology is deeply rooted in the doctrine of the Trinity, emphasizing the importance of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit in Paul's thought and ministry. Hill's analysis sheds light on the complexity and richness of Paul's theology, offering a fresh perspective on the biblical foundations of the Trinity.
William Still
I recently read Dying to Live (Christian Focus, 1991), the autobiography of Scottish pastor William Still. I became interested in Still after reading his book The Work of the Pastor earlier this year.
The first half of Dying to Live tells about Still’s early years into young adulthood and his beginning in pastoral ministry. Still had an unsettled childhood. His parents were separated in his early years, and his father was an alcoholic. He was a sickly child who took refuge in music and became an accomplished pianist. He was part of the Salvation Army as a young man but then entered ministry in the Church of Scotland and served at the Gilcomston Church in his hometown of Aberdeen from 1945-1997.
The second half of the book deals with various aspects of Still’s pastoral ministry. Still was an evangelical. In his early ministry he worked with Billy Graham, Alan Redpath, and others in evangelistic events. With time, however, he moved away from what he came to call “evangelisticism” to develop a solid expositional ministry.
Still faced his fair share of hardships during the course of his ministry. When he moved away from pragmatic evangelistic methods, for example, more than two hundred people stopped attending his church almost overnight. In the preface, he references Martin Luther’s observation that there are three things which make a minister: study, prayer, and afflictions. He observes, “He who is not prepared to make enemies for Christ’s sake by the faithful preaching of the Word will never make lasting friends for Christ, either” (p. 93).
He describes one particularly difficult controversy early in his ministry when he confronted a group of disgruntled elders. At the end of one Sunday service, he read a statement confronting these men, which ended, “There you sit, with your heads down, guilty men. What would you say if I named you before the whole congregation? You stand condemned before God for your contempt of the Word and of his folk.” He adds, “The moment I had finished, I walked out of the pulpit. There was no last hymn—no benediction. I went right home. It was the hardest and most shocking thing I ever had to do in Gilcomston” (p. 124). That same week seven of his elders resigned and Still was called twice before his Presbytery to answer for the controversy. Yet, he endured.
Still maintains that in light of the unpleasantness one will face in the ministry that the minister of the Word must possess one quality in particular: “…I would say that this quality is courage: guts, sheer lion-hearted bravery, clarity of mind and purpose, grit. Weaklings are no use here. They have a place in the economy of God if they are not deliberate weaklings and stunted adults as Paul writes of both to the Romans and to the Corinthians. But weaklings are no use to go out and speak prophetically to men from God and declare with all compassion, as well as with faithfulness, the truth: the divine Word that cuts across all men’s worldly plans for their lives” (p. 140).
Still was a pioneer in several areas. First, he developed a pattern of preaching and teaching systematically through books of the Bible at a time when this was rarely done. He began a ministry of “consecutive Bible teaching” starting with the book of Galatians in 1947, calling this transition from “evangelisticism to systematic exposition … probably the most significant decision in my life” (p. 191).
He was also a pioneer in simplifying and integrating the ministry of the church. After noting how youth in the church were drifting away, even after extensive involvement in the church’s children’s ministry, Still writes, “I conceived the idea of ceasing all Sunday School after beginners and Primary age (seven years) and invited parents to have their children sit with them in the family pew from the age of eight” (p. 171). He laments “the disastrous dispersion of congregations by the common practice of segregating the church family into every conceivable category of division of ages, sexes, etc.” (p. 173).
Dying to Live is a helpful and encouraging work about the life and work of the minister and is to be commended to all engaged in the call of gospel ministry. As the title indicates, Still’s essential thesis is that in order to be effective in ministry the minister must suffer a series of deaths to himself (cf. John 12:24). On this he writes:
The deaths one dies before ministry can be of long duration—it can be hours and days before we minister, before the resurrection experience of anointed preaching. And then there is another death afterwards, sometimes worse than the death before. From the moment that you stand there dead in Christ and dead to everything you are and have and ever shall be and have, every breath you breathe thereafter, every thought you think, every word you say and deed you do, must be done over the top of your own corpse or reaching over it in your preaching to others. Then it can only be Jesus that comes over and no one else. And I believe that every preacher must bear the mark of that death. Your life must be signed by the Cross, not just Christ’s cross (and there is really no other) but your cross in his Cross, your particular and unique cross that no one ever died—the cross that no one ever could die but you and you alone: your death in Christ’s death (p. 136).
Trapped for All Eternity
My dear Globdrop, I have received your perspective concerning your man’s most recent incident. He drew swords with his atheist classmate and succeeded, did he? He made the Enemy and the hope of a hereafter seem almost “reasonable”? In those ten minutes, the clouds pulled back and heaven appeared to triumph over hell, did it? You call it “a true embarrassment . . . a humiliating defeat.” You repeatedly assure me that you “take full responsibility.” O my dear nephew, what’s next? Did you, borrowing a human expression, require a shoulder to cry on? A nodding head and listening ear? Words of affirmation? Stand upright, soldier. Yours is not the only name to be pulled down into disgrace. All is far from lost. Though you slouch in shame with your talons curled, consider that mere “reasoning” does not frighten us (though we do not encourage it). A “reasonable” God, a “reasonable” eternity, and a “reasonable” heaven are still no God, no eternity, and no heaven — so long as “reasonable” goes unaccompanied with “desirable.” A God and a heaven no one wants are the only kind we will approve. Just a Few More Hours This unwelcomed eternity is, from all indications, your man’s current conception. The heaven he hotly debates is not the heaven he really wants. He is not one to strive to enter the narrow gate. He is “a few more hours” kind of man. I remember that splendid night like it was yesterday. One of their comedians took the stage to joke that he feared the Enemy would return on his wedding night. How would he respond when his “Lord” came to meet him? “Give me a few more hours.” The audience bellowed uproarious laughter. This, Globdrop, is comedy! Dark, damning, delicious. What this man said captures the subtitles of their lives: “Lord, give me a few more hours to make my mark on the world!” “Give me a little longer to get married and have children!” “Lord, let me grow old and spent. Then return!” Not yet, Lord — give me just a few more hours! For all the “Christian” talk (or debating), great masses of them still consider heaven an intrusion, a cloud moving over their day at the beach, a mere shadow interrupting the earthly substance. Their decaying bodies, grey hairs, and slowing minds trigger fear, not anticipation, for what lies ahead. These are runners who slow near the finish line, soldiers who do not want the war to end, farmers who groan at the first signs of harvest, prodigals looking back longingly at the city they can no longer afford. Their hearts are here; their heaven is earth. If not forced over the cliff by death, many would say, “a few more hours” for all eternity. Demon’s History of Heaven The secret, then, is this: we do not need to waste time trying to make atheists of those who stubbornly believe that the Enemy or heaven is real; we need only convince them that it’s nothing to leave earth for. And thankfully, we do not need to deceive them on this point. I was just a young devil during the Rebellion. The humans scratch their furry heads, perplexed how we could have ever sinned; they gaze up at the stars, wondering how perfect creatures could ever fall. They never consider that our Father Below “fell like lightning from heaven” in a grand escape from their precious heaven. Sure, the Enemy was well at hand to twist the story, labeling it as our being cast out in defeat, but what he calls an insurrection, we know as emancipation. We could not linger for one more millennium locked in that kennel he calls heaven. Our Father discovered (almost too late) that the Enemy allows only spaniels in that place, puppies wagging their peppy tails, yapping incessant praises, jumping up and down for that eternal belly scratch he calls joy. Our Dark Lord Lucifer, deciding then that he would not allow us to be of the servile breed, snapped the leash from such a place. Here again, the thinkers of men scratch their heads wondering why they — and not we demons — were sent “redemption.” As their preachers drool with self-congratulation, they would be shocked to discover the truth: we wouldn’t want it if he offered it. We know what “heaven” on his terms means. Were the door to swing open to us, we would slam it once again. We’ve had enough of his ball-fetching. Danger of Desire Yet the vermin actually applaud when he takes them for slaves. He, of course, gives each chain a pretty name — joy, peace, goodness, love, and the rest. What effective propaganda that he even goes so far as to move the Warden of his own presence into them to ensure they live as he demands, all the while convincing them that this is some precious gift. It is when they begin to see things in this concussed way — God, heaven, holiness as a treasure — that things get dangerous. Humans in this condition have been known to do more damage to our Father’s kingdom than ten thousand of those who, for all their talk, just want a few more hours. Men have sung on their way to the gallows. Women have crossed oceans to tell news of the Enemy to subjects we thought firmly in our grasp. Young children even, giving up a life unlived because of this infection. The hope of heaven to them has been a shield against our most reliable weapons: suffering, grief, sickness, and pain. The servitude that they mistake for freedom would almost make us laugh — if it did not rob us of our supper. Floating Clouds, Plucking Harps Heaven must remain — if it must remain — as merely the next best thing when they are evicted from this earth. Keep heaven in the peripheral: a blinding blur; the butt of a joke; a hazy, undesirable existence of floating in clouds and plucking harps. Let them think they are praying “on earth as it is in heaven” when they really mean “in heaven as it is on earth.” Far from fainting at such a belief, we see in it the opportunity to glorify our Father Below. When they refuse the Enemy’s feast to check on the fields and oxen they bought, or when they excuse themselves because they just got married and need a few more hours, all see the truth. How those howls shook hell when that young rich man — and every rich man since — finally turned away dejected. So yes, dear Globdrop, allow heaven to be “reasonable” to your man, at least for now. But never allow it to be more. Let him contest for the idea of heaven and drop the thought once he sits down to eat lunch, scrolls mindlessly through his phone, or watches a movie with his girlfriend — send him immediately back to our world. The only heaven we can endure — and the only heaven that will deliver your patient safely to us — is the heaven for which no one really wants to leave earth. Your unamused uncle, Grimgod Article by Greg Morse
