One of the least surprising announcements in recent months is that the Southern Baptist Convention will not join the newly developing ecumenical group, Christian Churches Together in the USA. Such arrogance and isolation are the marks by which current SBC leaders are becoming well known.

In case anyone has not caught on yet, the implied new SBC motto is: “We are right; everyone else is wrong.” That, of course, applies to all fine points of doctrine as well as social and political ideologies.

CCT is an unprecedented effort to simply get representatives of America’s various Christian groups to talk with each other. Everyone — Roman Catholics, Orthodox, mainline Protestants, Evangelicals and Pentecostals — are all invited to pull a chair up to the table.

Many are accepting the invitation to conversation. The U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops has agreed to join, assuring a much broader representation of American Christianity than those now involved with ecumenical groups like the National Council of Churches.

CCT participants will not be asked to affirm divisive political or theological documents. They are merely being asked to converse in an effort to build trust, to learn from one another and to find ways their common Christian commitments can be shared.

“We lament that we are divided and that our divisions too often result in distrust, misunderstandings, fear and even hostility between us,” wrote CCT organizers. “We long for a place where our differences could be better understood and our commonalities better affirmed.”

Casting such a wide net to include the broad family of American Christians is enough to cause Southern Baptist leaders to spurn an invitation, for they have spent the last quarter century diligently seeking to narrow their circle of inclusion and cooperation -- one of the most identifiable marks of fundamentalism.

They began by questioning the spiritual commitments of fellow Southern Baptists who would not give them full allegiance. Then they created and affirmed a narrow and theologically weak doctrinal statement (The Baptist Faith and Message 2000) as a sturdy tool of exclusion.

It has been effectively used to oust devoted, career missionaries and to wreak havoc upon some Baptist associations where cooperative ministries were once their hallmark.

More recently SBC leaders have turned their unsubstantiated accusations and trademark divisiveness toward the broader family of Baptists. They broke a century-old tie with more than 200 Baptist groups connected through the Baptist World Alliance.

Walking out of a press conference with BWA leaders last year, a reporter for a large city newspaper asked me: “Why do Southern Baptists have this scorched-earth approach to everything?” I could only respond: “I wish I knew.”

Southern Baptist leaders first made it clear they will not cooperate in missions and ministry with anyone who does not fully embrace their ever-narrowing theology and heavy-handed methodologies. Now we know they are not interested in even talking with other Christians either -- including fellow Baptists.

An SBC spokesman told Religion News Service: “For the most part, we don’t do ecumenism because you usually have to give up some doctrinal beliefs or ignore or emphasize others to work with folks that really aren’t on the same path, share the same doctrines, the same beliefs — particularly about salvation.”

That explains a lot. For current Southern Baptist leaders, cooperation and conversation are wrongly equated with compromising convictions.

Growing up, my ecumenical exposure was limited to an occasional community-wide service with the United Methodists across the street. So, as an adult, I have made an effort to better understand those of varying faith traditions.

I have discussed prayer at a Catholic monastery, and shared a Sabbath service and a vegetarian potluck meal with Seventh Day Adventists.

I have attended the Divine Liturgy where faithful Greek Orthodox Christians kindly explained the service to me and shared their blessed bread of fellowship.

I have worshipped in high-energy, historic African-American churches that took me beyond my usual worship experiences as well as my usual Sunday lunch hour.

None of those experiences felt like compromise. Rather they were learning experiences that helped me appreciate the broader Christian family — and my own commitments as a Baptist Christian.