– by Peter Barnes
The Psalmist, identified as David, declared what is almost a truism: ‘Behold, how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity’ (Ps. 133:1). Even criminal gangs are committed to some kind of unity. Regarding unity in the Lord, David compares this to refreshing oil running down the beard of Aaron, the high priest, and like the dew of Hermon on the mountains of Zion. It is even connected to ‘life forevermore’ (Ps. 133:2-3).
On the other hand, utopias looking for societies of brotherly kindness and cooperation have a poor track record. In 1893 the socialist, William Lane, set up New Australia in Paraguay, to be followed by another group of settlers in the following year. It was to be a paradise for white settlers who had embraced communism and teetotalism. Relations within the utopia soon deteriorated, however, and one of Lane’s sons was killed in a cricket match. The whole experiment, which included the writer, (Dame) Mary Gilmore, collapsed, although to the end of her days Mary Gilmore refused to regard it as a failure.
Christians ought not to suffer from utopian hallucinations, for even the apostles could dispute with one another. The New Testament records the apostle Paul’s dispute with Barnabas over whether to take John Mark on the second missionary journey (Acts 15:39-40). Mark had left them on the first journey, so Paul was adamant that he ought not to come on the second. Barnabas, who was Mark’s cousin (Col. 4:10), was rather more forgiving. The result was ‘a sharp disagreement’.
Paul’s other dispute concerned Peter’s decision to withdraw from eating with Gentiles. Barnabas also joined in Peter’s error. After the vision given to Peter in Acts 10-11, this was inexcusable, so Paul condemned it vehemently as an example of fear and hypocrisy (Gal.2:11-14). He says that ‘their conduct was not in step with the truth of the gospel’. Could not Christ save Gentile sinners as well as Jews?
This leads us to lessons that we can derive from comparing these two disputes. Neither of the disputes deals with a clear unambiguous doctrinal issue or, for that matter, a moral failure of such magnitude that church discipline was obviously needed, although Galatians 2 opens the door to such a scenario.
When Elijah confronted the prophets of Baal, it was a matter of the true God versus the false gods, of light versus darkness, of good confronting evil. When Paul and Barnabas disputed over whether Mark should join them, it was what is often called a wisdom issue. Paul sees it one way: ‘Mark left us; he did some harm to the cause of the gospel; and we ought not to risk his doing something similar in the future.’ Barnabas sees it another way: ‘Mark did not apostatise; we all fall over at one time or another; God restored Jonah and Peter (Jon.3:1; John 21:15-17); and besides, he is my cousin, and I know him better than you do.’
We do not have much to work from in Scripture, but in 2 Timothy, which is the last letter of Paul before his execution, he urges Timothy: ‘Get Mark and bring him with you, for he is very useful to me for ministry’ (2 Tim. 4:11). Humanly speaking, and in the longer term, it looks like Barnabas was more right than was Paul.[1] Readers of God’s Word ought to learn, and be grateful, that grace had triumphed, and reconciliation between brethren was the result. In the sovereignty of a gracious God, a sharp dissension does not have to be the last word.
Galatians 2 is more difficult. The issue is more public, and the matter at hand concerns two, then three, apostles. One of the closest parallels to this in the modern period might be William Carey’s strong stand for converted Hindus taking the Lord’s Supper. Brahmins who professed Christ had to eat with those of lower caste or they did not come to the table at all. Fellowship with Christ necessitates fellowship with all His people.
Any of us can go wrong at any time. Here, Peter is motivated by fear of the circumcision party. Grief overwhelmed Adoniram Judson when his wife, Ann, died in 1826. For a time, he referred to God as ‘the Great Unknown’. In eighteenth century Wales, the Baptist preacher, Christmas Evans, entered for a number of years what he called ‘the frigid zone’ of Sandemanianism, the belief that faith is simply intellectual assent to the facts of the gospel. Severity and kindness go together in the character of God (Rom. 11:22), so Paul’s vehemence in Galatians 2 should not be dismissed as the cranky outburst of a man lacking winsomeness. Again, the outcome was pleasing, and Peter could later refer to ‘our beloved brother’ Paul (2 Pet. 3:15).
In all disputes between genuine Christians, keep in mind the truths that God overrules all things for good, that we dwell in weakness, and that there is a universal need for humility of heart. Not only do we look through the glass darkly, we also have a tendency to exaggerate the importance in the eternal scheme of things that our particular stance prevails in every earthly contention.
Sometimes we just have to say that all we can do is be thankful that God rules, not us. The patience of John Newton with regard to Thomas Scott may be one obvious example. Scott was ordained as an Anglican clergyman when he did not believe in the deity of Christ, was indifferent as to whether the Holy Spirit exists, and was of the view that he could save himself. His clerical neighbour, John Newton at Olney, simply wore him down with kindness. Newton wrote: ‘sincerity is not conversion; but I believe it is always a forerunner of it.’ That is touching, but not incontrovertible. In Scott’s case, it bore fruit, and on Good Friday 1777 he renounced all the heresies that he had preached, and proclaimed Christ’s substitutionary atonement from Isaiah 53:6. Newton’s kindness and patience were godly, but it is woeful that the Church could not deal with such a clear-cut example of heresy.
The apostles preached the same gospel (Gal.2:9; 1 Cor.15:9-11), but they did not all sing in perfect harmony all of the time. Acts 15 and Galatians 2 are there to remind us that Christ alone is all wisdom, and that we must do our Spirit-driven best to walk in His ways, as brothers dwelling in unity.
The above article appeared in AP here
[1] (Ken Stebbins) “As the writer here implies, it is difficult to determine who was (more?) at fault, though I once read an article by Peter Masters in ‘The Sword and Trowel’ in which he reasoned persuasively from the text in favour of Paul being ‘more right’.”