Mobilizers get passionate about the things they have a vision for. Unfortunately when we are passionate about our vision, we may not be passionate about the God-given vision someone else has.

Mobilization for missions must be about prodding people toward the voice of God and the leading of the Spirit in their lives—not about swaying them toward our vision.

We must trust that the God who has given us a vision has given the same vision to others, and that He will bring us to them.

In the meantime, let’s lovingly encourage people on in the vision God has given them—even if that vision is not ours.

Offer to connect them with others you’ve met.

Offer to share resources.

Because somewhere down the road, it’s possible that their vision and yours may mesh in some way. It’s better to have friends than rivals.

We must proclaim the Gospel. We must not shy away from it, or be ashamed of it.

Still, if everyone goes out and preaches – and no one makes disciples, or raises up more preachers – we will not multiply.

Around us, some populations are growing fast, others are growing slowly, and still others are shrinking. But the populations growing fastest are the ones that are the least Christian. Moreover, throughout all populations, ideas are spreading even faster–and many of these ideas are in competition with Christianity for the allegiance of souls.

We cannot simply all go out and preach. We must be about the business of multiplying the size and influence of the church, or we will find that while we add a few souls here and there, we lose more through the back doors, and we shrink in proportion to the wider population.

To use an old proverb, we might win some battles but ultimately lose wars.

If the Kingdom is like a farmer, we can think of two different ways that a church can be focused.

One is to emphasize “stewarding the seed” which we have been given–preserving it, especially in times when planting conditions are poor and harvesting conditions seem poorer. We might plant some of it, but not necessarily all of it. We might be careful where we plant, because the soil is dry or rocky or the birds are numerous.

Another is to emphasize “spreading”–especially in times of rich harvests. We spread the seed in all kinds of soil because we don’t know exactly where a crop will spring up.

We can’t always be stewarding the seed. Sometimes we have to sow aggressively. On the other hand, if you sow too aggressively in poor times, you might not have any seed leftover when the times of plenty come.

The most important thing is to know the times you are in, and sow accordingly.

In recent decades some churches have gotten very good at mass-reproducing new churches. We have a very particular way of doing so: generally, a church planter, a place, a building, some people, a set number of programs (welcoming visitors, new member classes, baptism classes, worship, discipleship, etc).

We take these programs into other nations and other cultures, and for a time they seem to work fairly well–especially as they are paid for by donations from places where Christianity is strong.

Planting churches is not like building cars. Eventually persecution will come, in some form. When it does, it will likely attack the church planting system at its weakest point. In industrialized church planting, there are several of these.

Among these lines of attacks: denying building permits, denying the right to purchase a building, denying organized worship space, denying outreach programs, corrupting finances, trumping up false charges against leaders or staff, denying public baptisms, attacking buildings, etc.

In the face of these attacks, churches can adapt (perhaps by abandoning buildings?)–or they can wring their hands, bemoan the persecution and resistance, and cease any attempt to expand and adapt.

Failure to adapt will lead to death.

Efficient.

Teachable.

Reproducible.

Improveable.

Fixed.

Predictable.

Breakable.

Attacked.

Adaptable.

Mutated.

Abandoned, eventually.

We humans are namers. We categorize, describe, and assign names to collections of categories.

With time, and use, and experience, some names become powerful. They take on certain attributes: richness, experience, wisdom, class, coolness, hip, radical, rebellious.

The challenge is: sometimes we think of certain names as the “right” names. The “best” names. The “only” names.

What kind of person are you, if for example you buy a generic instead of a brand name? Are you poor? A smart shopper? A person who rebels against brands? Just looking for the best deal?

What kind of a person chooses a non-denominational church over a denominational one? Or plants a church with no visible denominational affiliation?

If something isn’t associated with a particular name—is it still good?

There is a difference between what is difficult to believe, stupendously improbable–and the miraculous.

The difficult to believe encompasses those things which we, from our own cultural standpoint, find hard to think true. For example, that the church might grow more rapidly in an area where there are some Western missionaries, but not many. Or that an Islamic terrorist might renounce violence and follow Christ. Or that Jesus might be worshiped in a mosque. Things that are difficult to believe aren’t improbable–given the huge numbers of mosques in the world, and the vast missionary “edge” between Christianity and Islam, it’s likely that a Jesus mosque or two–or 200, or whatever–would develop. It’s only that it’s hard for us to conceptualize such a thing.

The stupendously improbable are those things which are statistically unlikely–things we automatically characterize as “impossible,” or perhaps never even think of because of how improbable they are. Like a member of an Islamic royal household coming to faith in Christ. Or putting a million Bibles into China.

Then, finally we have the miraculous. The primary difference between the difficult-to-believe, the stupendously-improbable, and the miraculous, is this–

–the miraculous, apart from God, is impossible.

Not just improbable. Not just hard. But absolutely, positively, impossible.

Like resurrection. Or Jesus appearing to someone in a vision.

If you want to get to the truly miraculous–not just, “Oh, it was so easy to get to work today, it must have been God”–then you have to get beyond the difficult to believe and the stupendously improbable. You have to get into those situations where, if God doesn’t intervene, nothing happens at all.

What’s interesting is that the further along this line you get, the less challenging the lesser places are. When you deal in the stupendously improbable, the difficult becomes less difficult. And when you’ve seen a miracle–the odds of the stupendously improbable just seem a little better.

Faith is not a magical formula.

Faith is not just belief.

To be faithful is to be loyal – to keep faith with your sovereign.

To have faith is to be loyal to God and obey what He has told you to do.

To have faith is to pursue the commands and vision and purposes of God in your life–

–and where what you can do falls short of what is needed to achieve God’s purpose,

to expect God, in his way and time, to supernaturally provide what is required to make up the difference between what you can do and what He wants done.