A Sharp Contention

“And there arose a sharp contention, so that they parted asunder one from the other, and Barnabas took Mark with him, and sailed away unto Cyprus” — Acts 15:39 (ASV)

In 1919 the mission took a new name at home, the Worldwide Evangelisation Crusade, because Studd believed his task was the whole unreached world. Workers soon went to Brazil, and later to Arabia and India. The mission now known as WEC International had begun. But the 1920s were also the years when it was torn apart, and much of the conflict centred on Studd. Every honest account has to face this, and the evidence comes mainly from people who loved him.

Studd demanded total commitment. He expected his missionaries to live on very little, work very long hours, and put the work before health, family and comfort, as he did. He treated caution as unbelief and disagreement as disloyalty. He could be warm, generous and funny, and many loved him. He could also be suspicious, harsh and unjust, and he wrote letters that wounded deeply. Some missionaries resigned. Others were dismissed. One letter from 1925 admired his sacrifices and at the same time described him as domineering. That mix runs through almost every account.

The saddest parting was with Alfred Buxton. Alfred had gone with him in 1913, held the work together when Studd was away, learned the languages and married Edith. When conflicts grew, he couldn’t simply take his father-in-law’s side; he thought some criticisms were fair and said so. In 1927 he went to America to repair damaged friendships. Studd called it disloyalty and dismissed him. One account says the dismissal included Edith. Alfred had done nothing worse than disagree and try to make peace. It does Studd no credit.

There is another side. The two men’s bond was never broken; they went on loving each other through the quarrel. Alfred didn’t turn bitter. He went on to open new work in Ethiopia, and he was killed in London in 1940 when a bomb struck a committee meeting.

Why was a man so devoted so hard on others? He was ill, in pain and exhausted for most of his last fifteen years. He lived far from his wife and from any equal who could speak frankly to him. He had grown up expecting leaders to command, not consult. And he believed so completely that no sacrifice was too great that anyone who held back looked like they were failing Christ. None of that excuses him. It helps you understand him.

His marriage was strained by distance too. When he sailed in 1916 they had been married twenty-eight years, and they didn’t see each other again for twelve. They weren’t estranged. They wrote constantly, and every account says they loved each other to the end. Paul told married couples not to live apart except “by consent for a season.” A season isn’t twelve years. It cost Scilla her husband’s company through illness and heavy work. It cost him the one person who knew him well enough to tell him the truth and be heard.

In 1928 Scilla, in her sixties and with a heart condition, made the long, dangerous journey to the Congo. It was her only visit, and a short one; one account says thirteen days. It was the last time they saw each other. On 15 January 1929 she died at Málaga, in Spain, aged sixty-four. He was not with her. He lost his partner, his defender at home, and the person who had made his work possible.

Paul and Barnabas split over John Mark, and Luke doesn’t say who was right. Years later Paul asked for Mark, “for he is useful to me for ministering.” The man he had refused became a man he needed. The Bible doesn’t hide its heroes’ quarrels, and God’s work went on through them. That doesn’t make quarrels good. It means God isn’t defeated by them.

Disagreeing with someone you love isn’t betrayal. Sometimes it’s the most loyal thing you can do.

One thing to do this week: if there’s someone you’ve fallen out with over a disagreement, send a short message that doesn’t argue the point again but says the relationship still matters to you.