Published in the Baptist Times 19 August 2011
It's hard to organise shared church initiatives. Churchgoers only support their own church events. It takes forever to reach decisions. Key people take offence if their right to lead in their area of expertise isn't recognised. And church leaders have enough hassle with their own 'problem people' without sharing other churches' as well.
With all those human arguments against united worship, who needs spiritual attack? Though, mention the word 'united' and the powers and dominions of evil start holding committee meetings themed 'divisive.'
So it was immensely inspiring when over 30 churches in our area came together, for the second year, to do nothing more divisive than stand in a tent and praise God and support each other's faith. It sounds simple but it isn't. Last year was a massive battle, on every front, to combat the many diversions. This year, there were signs that the battle was won.
For me, highlights of the week were not the known-name evangelists (heartening though their attendance was) but unsung locals. And God. It was a strong sign of his presence to see church leaders accepting and affirming each other publicly. Everything on earth works against that, and everything unearthly.
Non-churchgoers often see Christian denominations as rival clubs touting for membership or poaching each other's customers, and this impression is sometimes enhanced by rivalry and 'only joking' remarks between leaders of local churches. Members who leave and gossip discontent outside the church, or in the next church they join, don't help. Nor do over-supportive members who turn loyalty to church leaders into a fan club.
United church celebrations can be uneasy occasions for those now attending another church, coming face to face with the people and pastors they left and may have spoken about unfavourably. And preachers are not immune to preaching subtle jibes against others' theology.
Conversely, the desire to avoid offending anyone may result in worship so bland that everyone emerges from the experience unchanged, unchallenged and unmoved and might just as well have stayed home watching TV. We invite people into a kingdom of 'many mansions' then shut ourselves into a cupboard.
Of course, all these hazards occur in individual churches. Walking into church on a Sunday can feel like a minefield. I don't want to scan backs of heads and avoid those who have previously bitten mine off. Some say such avoidance is failure to forgive. Others say it's wisdom. Mammals learn from experience.
But, at its best, multi-church co-operation offers a wider arena for many forms of worship, differing emphases on Bible teaching, and a more generous space to accommodate personalities.
It was good to talk to and worship alongside people from different backgrounds, and freeing to see our own people in a wider context. I had lunch in an open field with a former head-biter, along with some people I had just met, and some newcomers to our own church. It was a reminder that God - in his own time and environment - will heal every wound that, despite forgiving the stabber, doesn't stop aching. For me, it was worth the whole week just for that.
On the second day, I received distressing news at home. It made sense to tap into the prayer ministry at the conference so I drove back there. Everyone would be occupied at this time. I asked God to put the right person in my path. The first person I saw was the minister of my church, conversing patiently with one of his own head-biters. He prayed for my situation and the fear left.
I understand people's fears that merging or 'emerging' churches may submerge what is good about individual, traditional, local churches. But, like tents, if structures are flexible and open, a welcome can be extended to people from a wider area of experience. Sharing territory - and problems - may not mean losing ground but making room for growth.
