“Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow... And though a man might prevail against one who is alone, two will withstand him – a threefold cord is not quickly broken” (Ecc. 4v9-10, 12).
One of the greatest practical problems I see across the church is the isolation of so many church leaders. There are many contributing factors, but surely one of them is the idea that spiritual growth occurs only or mainly through the purposeful, influential actions of elevated individuals. We might call this the “great man” theory.
'Great man' theory
Please let me be clear: I don’t want to downplay the genius of many great men. Throughout church history, and even in the Biblical narratives, it has often been an exceptional man raised up by God who has provided the special leadership or reform the church has needed. Surely we see that in a Luther, a Lloyd-Jones, a Stott, and others.
But even when the church has had one of those great men, these men have never been alone. In fact, it is precisely when they are alone that the problems occur. Indeed, all through church history, collegiality has ever been central to times of spiritual blessing.
For instance, in theology, think of the galaxy of friends around Augustine, Luther, Calvin. Our minds can quickly leap to a missionary hero like William Carey, but we fail to remember the circle of friends around him: Andrew Fuller, John Sutcliff, Samuel Pearce, and John Ryland. Or take Billy Graham. He would not have been the Billy Graham we know without Cliff Barrows, George Beverly Shea, the Wilsons, and Leighton Ford. I think of how John Stott loved to go away on writing breaks in Wales with Dick Lucas and Richard Bewes and of how he would deliberately nurture others in turn.
Again and again in church history, we see a band of brothers gather around a shared vision. They’re not merely acquaintances or colleagues; they’re friends, and they encourage and push each other on. And sometimes in these bands of brothers we recognise that there was no leading great man at all. Think of the Puritans: yes, there were many great men among them, but the movement wasn’t built around one man. It was a fellowship that grew out of a broadly shared vision.
C.S. Lewis said in The Four Loves that whereas lovers look into each other’s eyes, friends stand “side by side” and look ahead to their “common interest”. This imagery brings to mind the seraphim in Isaiah’s vision, crying “Holy, holy, holy” to one another (Isa. 6v3).
Brotherhood, not just fellowship
Now, it’s actually slightly unusual to talk about friendship like this in Christian circles. We talk about “networks”. We talk about “fellowship”. But both can be quite relationally hollow or chilly phrases. To “network” can be just to use a contact to get something done, or to make a superficial connection now that we hope might pay off in some way later. “Fellowship” is often nothing more than Christians drinking coffee together. Or sometimes we truly do fellowship in Christ, working together for the sake of the gospel.
We should aim higher. Psalm 133 sings of “how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity” (v1). It is like oil running down the beard of the high priest at his ordination or like the dew that rolls down the mountains of Zion, making the land fruitful (vv2-3). Appropriately, in his High Priestly prayer in John 17, Jesus prayed to His Father that “they may be one even as we are one” (v22). For as the oil ran down from Aaron’s head to his body, so the Spirit runs down from Christ our Head to His Body, the church. Our oneness is a Spirit-wrought reflection on earth of a heavenly beauty.
Warm and hearty friendship is the highest form of fellowship. It is an anticipation of what fellowship will be like in heaven. It is partnership, allying together in warm, rich, personal appreciation. This sort of fellowship testifies to a friendly, personal God and an eternal hope where all fellowship involves true and holy delight.
