Church unity suffers when leaders fail to resolve conflicts and reconcile.
The following anecdote, says a correspondent of the Baptist Repository, occurred under the immediate observation of the writer:
A new settlement at the west, was visited by a powerful revival of religion, and most of the heads of families, with many of the youth, were hopefully converted to God; and in a vicinity where the name of Jesus was hardly known, unless in the way of blasphemy, but a short time before, a flourishing church was now organized, and the ordinances of the gospel instituted. A commodious house of worship was soon after erected, and a minister settled, and every thing bore evidence of the happy change with which the vicinity had been visited. Among the subjects of the recent work were two men, in the prime of life, both possessing considerable wealth and influence, upon whom the church principally depended. One of these, whom we shall call Mr. P. was appointed deacon, and the other, whom we shall denominate Squire M., with the assistance of the former, was appointed to manage the secular concerns of the society; and for the first two years things passed on prosperously, and to the mutual satisfaction of all, while the Lord appeared to pour out his blessing upon their efforts. At length, however, from some trifling cause, a coldness or jealousy arose between these two persons, who were regarded as pillars: and the church.
aware of how much depended on their efforts, attempted to reconcile them. With regret, however, they saw their efforts unavailing, as their hardness towards each other continued to increase, till at length they broke out into an open quarrel. As their farms lay contiguous to each other, new causes of complaint were continually arising, of a domestic nature, till the church was finally constrained to interfere in their difficulties. This, however, instead of reconciling them, rather seemed to add fuel to the fire, till they were finally compelled to exclude them both from their fellowship. Being now freed from ecclesiastical restraint, they continued to carry on their quarrel in a more open manner, and lawsuit after lawsuit followed each other, till at length they both appeared to become weary of the contest, and for two succeeding years lived like the Jews and Samaritans, not deigning even to speak to each other.
The church, in the meantime, being deprived of their aid, fell into a low and desponding condition; and despairing of being able to support the preaching of the gospel any longer, dismissed their minister, and public worship was finally abandoned altogether.
About this time Deacon P. being at work alone in his field, began to reflect in a serious manner upon his condition, comparing it with what it had formerly been, when he was in fellowship with the church, and living in the line of duty. This was perhaps the first time in three years that he had commenced a candid and impartial examination of his own heart; and however he might have sought to justify his conduct before others, he now saw himself awfully guilty before God. Under a sense of conscious guilt he raised his eyes to heaven, and not only implored grace to enable him to see, but also to perform his duty. Having at length settled the question in his own mind, how often and wherein he had offended in the cause of difficulty before mentioned he turned his eyes towards Squire M. who also was at work in a neighboring field, and soon came to the following resolution:—"If he has injured me, will leave him in the hands of a merciful God; but I will go to him, and wherein I have injured him, I will fall upon my knees before him and ask his forgiveness." No sooner had he come to this resolution, than leaving the instrument with which he was employed, he sought the field where Squire M. was at work, and, to the astonishment of the latter, fell down before him, and besought his pardon. Squire M., though somewhat moved at the spectacle, at length replied very coldly, "I am very glad Mr. P. to see you finally sensible of your errors; and must tell you that it is no more than I have long expected. For seriously as you have injured me, I could never fully divest myself of the belief that you had once experienced religion, and therefore always concluded that the Lord would bring you some day or other to own your fault,—I forgive you, though I must tell you that I cannot altogether forget the manner in which you have treated me."
If Squire M. was less affected by his acknowledgment than was expected by the other, it did not disturb him; and he returned to his labor in a more tranquil state of mind than he had experienced in many a weary month. He continued his employment alternately weeping and rejoicing, till late in the afternoon; when happening to turn his eyes towards the field where Squire M. was at work, he saw him approaching; and as he came still nearer, what was his joy when he saw him bathed in a flood of tears. He came up to him, and after seizing his hand with a convulsive grasp, he fell upon his knees and exclaimed, "My much injured friend and brother, can you now forgive me?" After tenderly embracing each other, and weeping and exchanging forgiveness, they retired together to a secret place, and there poured out their united prayers before the throne of mercy. On the following Sabbath they went together to the house of God, and made an humble confession to the church from which they had been excluded, and were again restored to fellowship. This seemed to inspire their brethren with renewed confidence; their former pastor was recalled, public worship was again established, and heaven itself seemed to smile upon their efforts. An extensive revival soon followed, many precious souls were gathered in, and the two returning prodigals have since become, not only a help and comfort to each other, but a blessing to those with whom they are united.
