The Pastor of Kilsyth

The Testimony of Islay Burns

“The nearest approach that I know of in the history of the Church universal to apostolic conditions of faith and living was what was to be seen in the Free Church of Scotland in its early days under the stewardship of Thomas Chalmers.” C.H. Waller

“When Chalmers was born in 1780 it was about the deadest time in the history of the Church of Scotland since the Reformation. When he died in 1847 it was about the alivest. The difference was almost entirely attributable to the Spirit’s work through him.” Iain Murray

The story told in the little book, The Pastor of Kilsyth, is more than a little remarkable. It is remarkable precisely because it tells the story of a very ordinary pastor of a small church in a remote community. He never wrote a book. He never taught in a seminary. He never led a movement. He never attained fame. But the influence he wielded in his little village and in his own family with his two sons would send ripple effects across the ages and across the world. It is a helpful reminder to us that the swirl of events that led to the transformation of the Scottish church in the first decades of the 19^thcentury reached into the most obscure corners of the land.

The years surrounding the Scottish Disruption produced some of the most remarkable servants of God in the history of the church. That galaxy of brilliant, Reformed Scots preachers, writers, and missionaries included Robert Murray McCheyne, John Milne, Alexander Moody Stuart, John Urquhart, Robert Nesbit, Alexander Somerville, Rabbi John Duncan, David Ewart, Alexander Duff, William Sinclair Mackay, the Bonar brothers, Andrew, John, James, and Horatius, and the extraordinary Burns family, father W.H., and sons William and Islay. They were all bound together by a common cause, in a common time, with a common vision, by a common love.

Emphasizing as they did a pursuit of sanctification and a passion for evangelism—both at home and abroad on the mission field—together these men came to be known variously as the “Evangelical Prodigies,” the “Chalmers Bejants,” the “St. Andrews Savants,” and the “School of the Saints.” Indeed, they would be responsible for an astonishing burst of Gospel energy, productivity, and profundity hardly ever matched before or since.

The Burns family was a scion of a prominent and pious Presbyterian pedigree. They were men of strong religious conviction, Calvinist in their theology, and keen that their families and their flocks should come to view Christianity from that worldview perspective. But like most of the other members of that esteemed Disruption circle, they were most profoundly influenced by the life, work, and ministry of Thomas Chalmers (1780-1847). Lived under the broad shade of Chalmers, who was indisputably the greatest preacher, theologian, and reformer of the day—and according to Alister McGrath, “the virtual re-founder of Scots Presbyterianism.” Together they studied under Chalmers at the University of Edinburgh. They served with him in the local presbytery and in the General Assembly. They followed him through the difficult days of the Ten Years’ Conflict. They stood with him during the Disruption. They worked with him in the establishment of the Free Church. And they continued his legacy in missions and parish renewal. In all their work they reflected the vision of Chalmers for a committed, godly parish clergy and an impassioned, strategic outreach to the lost with the twin emphases of personal piety and ardent evangelism.

Thomas Chalmers, in his lectures on Moral Philosophy, regularly reminded his charges that, “In bygone days when God’s covenant people sought to strengthen their piety, to sharpen their effectual intercessions, and give passion to their supplications, they partook of the means of grace in all holiness with humble prayer and fasting. When intent upon seeking the Lord God’s guidance in difficult after-times, they partook of the means of grace in all holiness with humble prayer and fasting. When they were wont to express grief—whether over the consequences of their own sins or the sins of others—they partook of the means of grace in all holiness with humble prayer and fasting. When they sought deliverance or protection in times of trouble, they partook of the means of grace in all holiness with humble prayer and fasting. When they desired to express repentance, covenant renewal, and a return to the fold of faith, they partook of the means of grace in all holiness with humble prayer and fasting. Such is the call upon all who would name the Name of Jesus. Such is the ordinary Christian life.”

The Burns men took such teaching to heart, their singular ambition was to know Christ, to obey Him in even the smallest details of life. Step by step they walked with God, doing everything as in His sight. “You are not very holy if you are not very kind,” they used to say to one another, and this spirit of love characterized their actions.

How different is the temperament of the modern church and her churchmen. The erosion of the distinctiveness of the Gospel and the subversion of the idea of gracious holiness has wrought an avalanche of decadence. The moral practices of the average Christian today are not discernibly different from the average non-Christian. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist or a social ethicist to figure out: that does not bode well for the church. What we do or don’t do, how we act or don’t act, what we want or don’t want, are all likely to be practically identical to what our unbelieving neighbors do, act, or want.

According to John White this woeful state of affairs is due to the fact that we are “flirting with the world.” Michael Scott Horton asserts it is due to our attempt to “domesticate God.” John MacArthur simply says it is because we are “ashamed of the Gospel.” But, whatever the cause, it is clear that unfettered compromise is now the modern church’s most damning dilemma. Theologian Howard Snyder has said, “Worldliness is the greatest threat to the church today. In other ages the church suffered from dead orthodoxy, live heresy, flight from the world, and other maladies. But the painful truth today is that the church is guilty of massive accommodation to the world.” Even in evangelical congregations, the Gospel has been squeezed into the mold of this world with amazing alacrity. We tone down our denunciations of sin lest we be accused of being “judgmental;” we minimize doctrinal distinctives lest we be accused of being “divisive;” we blur the boundaries between virtue and vice lest we be accused of being “legalistic;” we brush off heresy and heterodoxy lest we be accused of being “intolerant.” According to David Wells in his astonishing and revealing book No Place for Truth, “Even the mildest assertion of Christian truth today sounds like a thunderclap because the well-polished civility of our religious talk has kept us from hearing much of this kind of thing.”

Perhaps that is why the experience of the Burns men seems so remote to us; to our modern ears, their painful self-examination seems overwrought; their determination to eradicate sins we hardly notice seems wildly exaggerated in light of their disciplined attention to holiness. When in thrall to distress or discouragement, they found their first recourse in holy service to Christ rather than the consolations to which we are so quick to repair. In this day of brazen modernity, we would do well to reacquaint ourselves with such sentiments; we would do well to attune our hearts and ears to the sonorous tones of holiness; we would do well to hear and heed the impassioned message of W.H., William, Islay Burns.

Of course, their distinctive ministry was not merely rooted in an individualistic vision of pious introspection. For them, personal holiness was the foundation upon which a ministry within the covenant community and without, to the lost, was to be built.

Again, they learned this vital lesson from their mentor. During his years at the University of Edinburgh, Thomas Chalmers had taught them that, “The Kingdom inevitably insults our sense of propriety: very simply it is filled with improper people, with improper backgrounds, with improper habits, improper manners, improper speech, and improper customs. The Kingdom bursts the wineskins of culture by embracing every tribe, race, and tongue.”

As a result, the Burns men came to have a passion for the souls of men—for all men: Jews and Gypsies, the poor and the imprisoned, the sick and infirm, those close at hand and those in the uttermost parts of the earth. Evangelism marked their life as indelibly as did the habits of personal holiness.

They were actively engaged in missionary associations, in Bible subscription programs, training societies, relief and development initiatives, prison and jail ministries, and short-term missions outreaches. They supported long-term efforts in India, Africa, and China. Just as William and Islay were beginning his career, they traveled with Robert Murray M’Cheyne and Presbytery’s Missionary Deputation, through Eastern Europe and the Near East to inquire about the work of evangelizing the Jews. Later, they would travel widely doing the work of itinerate evangelists in cottage meetings, open air gatherings, and for pulpit supply. They regularly visited the families of their parish with an eye toward their conversion. They ministered at synagogues, hospitals, wayside chapels, and village squares. And they worked hard for the success of such works as the crusades of Dwight Moody and Ira Sankey. Eventually, William would depart to spend the rest of his life as a missionary in China. Islay would succeed M’Cheyne at the Free Church in Dundee (where Sinclair Ferguson currently serves).

The manse of W.H. in Kilsyth was adorned with the Hebrew script reading, “He that winneth souls is wise.” It was the motto and the mission of the Burns men. It was their mindset and their motivation. They learned from their mentor to always attune their hearts to the ingathering of the souls of men and nations.

Humbly W.H. would confess, “The Lord does not use me, like his servant Dr. Chalmers, for great things, but my way of serving the Lord is nevertheless the Lord shows me that He wishes me to be one of the common Levites who carry the pins.”

O, that the church today had a bevy of such common Levites! May God be pleased to revive such a lost cause in our day; may He grant us such servants.

For Further Reading:

• Andrew Bonar, Memoirs of Robert Murray M’Cheyne, (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1966).

• John Howie, Scots Worthies, (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1995).

• Stuart Piggin and John Roxborough, The St. Andrews Seven (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1975).

• Bennet Tyler, Asahel Nettleton, (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1975).