Four years of ministerial training, a degree in theology, a working knowledge of New Testament Greek and a year of lectures on the Methodist rule-book never prepared me for this! This was to be my first experience of over twenty five years of ministry in 'hurting churches'.

If we're truly honest, many of us are living in a sea of pain in our local churches, and these waves of pain are made manifest in a thousand different ways. They break over us in splits and secessions which are as predictable as the tide. They crash down when leaders fall and followers condemn.

This sea of hurt rises when congregations treat their pastors with dreadful unkindness. It seeps through church life in gossip and false accusation. Its powerful current forces us apart. It drives divided church councils to split on the rocks. Many Christians are drowning in an ocean of unresolved conflict.

This column was conceived when I had the rather peculiar privilege of sharing in a seminar at the Baptist Assembly recently which went under the title of 'Hurting churches'.

When I first heard about the concept I was, to say the least, slightly concerned! The idea was simple. Allow an hour of 'free space' in which the 2000 leaders from Baptist Churches throughout the UK could unload the pain of being involved in church life today. Bev Thomas and Rob Frost would be on hand to mop up afterwards!

It was, to say the least, a bold concept. The leaders of the Baptist Union took their life in their hands by allowing anyone to say anything about the way that their churches are hurting. And they didn't exclude themselves from any brikbats which might be thrown across the conference hall.

It was, for me, one of the bravest pieces of Christian conference planning I've witnessed. There was something truly Biblical about it. It showed a maturity of trust. It gave permission for anyone to say anything about the pain of being church in a time in which most of us would rather gloss over our problems rather than look them in the face.

Throughout my life I don't think I've ever heard a group of local leaders talk honestly about the pain of being church. Yet here, in this massive arena, people shared story after story of the pain of broken churches and fragmented fellowships.

It was refreshingly honest. And, through the honesty, there came a sense of relief. "We're not the only church going through trouble... lots of others are suffering too!" And even in the process of sharing pain there were bright rays of hope, and some were able to share stories of reconciliation and a new beginning. It was a truly prophetic moment.

Unfortunately there are a lot of skeletons in a lot of closets in church vestries from one end of the country to the other. And perhaps it's time many others followed the example of the Baptists by giving people permission to take them out and bury them once and for all!

I believe that the task of mission is being severely weakened in hundreds of churches because of unresolved conflict, ongoing tension, and by the adoption of opposing 'positions' over change and progress.

I was greatly encouraged to hear that several Baptist leaders are involved in a training programme to encourage reconciliation and healing in churches which currently lie bleeding and broken.

Relationships are not mended by pious prayers or by hiding unresolved arguments in skeleton filled cupboards. Healing is a process, and reconciliation only comes when pain is identified and hurt is faced full on. The journey of reconciliation demands courage and patience.

God loves us with an aching heart, like a jilted lover, waiting for his loved one to come back to him. He loves us with forgiving compassion, like a rejected father, waiting for his prodigal to return. He loves us with a spontaneous generosity, like a good man paying off his friend's debts without any hope of repayment. He cares for us like a generous stranger, giving the bond-price to let the slave go free.

Throughout His ministry Jesus modelled the Father's compassion for each of us. In his prayer in John 17 Jesus showed that he trusted his disciples. He was concerned about them. He prayed for their safety. He interceded for their unity. He claimed their protection. But, most of all, he identified with them, for neither He nor they belong to the world (v6-15).

His love was encompassed in one supreme act of generosity on a cross and in His words, 'What greater love is there than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends?'

If this gospel of reconciliation and love is at the heart of our faith. Let's preach it... but let's live it, too!