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 Stillâs 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 Stillâs 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 âevangelisticismâ 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 Lutherâs observation that there are three things which make a minister: study, prayer, and afflictions. He observes, âHe who is not prepared to make enemies for Christâs sake by the faithful preaching of the Word will never make lasting friends for Christ, eitherâ (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, âThere 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.â He adds, âThe moment I had finished, I walked out of the pulpit. There was no last hymnâno benediction. I went right home. It was the hardest and most shocking thing I ever had to do in Gilcomstonâ (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: ââŚI 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 menâs worldly plans for their livesâ (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 âconsecutive Bible teachingâ starting with the book of Galatians in 1947, calling this transition from âevangelisticism to systematic exposition ⌠probably the most significant decision in my lifeâ (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 churchâs childrenâs ministry, Still writes, âI 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 eightâ (p. 171). He laments âthe disastrous dispersion of congregations by the common practice of segregating the church family into every conceivable category of division of ages, sexes, etc.â (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, Stillâs 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 durationâit 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 Christâs cross (and there is really no other) but your cross in his Cross, your particular and unique cross that no one ever diedâthe cross that no one ever could die but you and you alone: your death in Christâs death (p. 136).
books donât change people, paragraphs do
I have often said, âBooks donât change people, paragraphs do â sometimes sentences.â This may not be fair to books, since paragraphs find their way to us through books, and they often gain their peculiar power because of the context they have in the book. But the point remains: One sentence or paragraph may lodge itself so powerfully in our mind that its effect is enormous when all else is forgotten. It might be useful to illustrate this with two books by Jonathan Edwards that have influenced me most. Here are the key paragraphs and lessons from these books. Most of the rest of their content I have long forgotten (but who knows what remains in the subconscious and has profound impact?). 1. The End for Which God Created the World Outside the Bible this may be the most influential book I have ever read. Its influence was inseparable from its transposition into the syllabus on Unity of the Bible in a course by that name with Daniel Fuller in seminary. There are two massive truths that were settled for me. First: All that is ever spoken of in the Scripture as an ultimate end of Godâs works is included in that one phrase, the glory of God. (Yale, Vol. 8, p. 526) The book was an avalanche of Scripture demonstrating one of the most influential convictions in my life: God does everything for his glory. Then came its life-changing corollary: In the creatureâs knowing, esteeming, loving, rejoicing in, and praising God, the glory of God is both exhibited and acknowledged; his fullness is received and returned. Here is both an emanation  and remanation . The refulgence shines upon and into the creature, and is reflected back to the luminary. The beams of glory come from God, and are something of God, and are refunded back again to their original. So that the whole is of God , and in  God, and to  God; and God is the beginning, middle and end in this affair. (Yale, Vol. 8, p. 531) To me this was simply beautiful. It was overwhelming as a picture of the greatness of God. The impact was heighted by the fact that the last line is a manifest echo of Romans 11:36: âFrom him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen.â But the central, life-shaping impact was the sentence: âIn the creatureâs knowing, esteeming, loving, rejoicing in, and praising God, the glory of God is both exhibited and acknowledged.â And even more specifically: âIn the creatureâs rejoicing in God, the glory of God is exhibited.â Godâs glory is exhibited in my being happy in him. Or as Edwards says earlier: âThe happiness of the creature consists in rejoicing in God, by which also God is magnified and exaltedâ (Yale, Vol. 8, p. 442.) If not being supremely happy in God means robbing him of his glory, everything changes. That has been the unifying message of my life: God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in him. 2. The Freedom of the Will This was a breathtaking book. The scope and rigor of its argument made it one of the most demanding books I have ever read. David Wells calls it a watershed book: How you judge this argument decides where all waters of your life will flow. My judgment was: irresistibly compelling . Hereâs the unforgettable summary sentence: Godâs moral government over mankind, his treating them as moral agents, making them the objects of his commands, counsels, calls, warnings, expostulations, promises, threatenings, rewards and punishments, is not inconsistent with a determining disposal of all events, of every kind, throughout the universe, in his providence; either by positive efficiency, or permission. (Yale, Vol. 1, p. 431) God governs all events of every kind, including my acts of will, yet in such a way that I am still liable to rewards and punishments. His sovereignty and my accountability are compatible. The implications of this are vast. One of the most important insights for me in working this out was Edwardsâs distinction between natural  inability to do something and moral  inability to do something. Hereâs the key paragraph: We are said to be naturally  unable to do a thing, when we canât do it if we will, because what is most commonly called nature donât allow of it, or because of some impeding defect or obstacle that is extrinsic to the will; either in the faculty of understanding, constitution of body, or external objects. Moral  inability consists not in any of these things; but either in the want of inclination; or the strength of a contrary inclination; or the want of sufficient motives in view, to induce and excite the act of the will, or the strength of apparent motives to the contrary. (Yale, Vol. 1, p. 159) If we are naturally  unable to do something, we are not accountable to do it (like trying to get out of a chair if we truly want to but are chained in it), but if we are morally  unable to do something, we are still accountable to do it (like trying to keep the law of God, though we canât because we hate it). This insight was crucial in understanding Romans 8:7 (âthe mind of the flesh cannot  submit to Godâ), and 1 Corinthians 2:14 (âthe natural man cannot  understand the things of the Spiritâ). As I look back over my life and what I have been able to see and savor in Godâs word, I give thanks for momentous sentences and paragraphs, and for the God-besotted people who wrote them. In this case, I thank God for Jonathan Edwards.
