In Luke’s gospel, an angel announces Jesus’ birth three times – to Zechariah, Mary and the shepherds. Each one starts (more or less) with the phrase “do not be afraid.”

This is a powerful and easily-overlooked message for us. Jesus Christ is coming! We humans are naturally afraid – with good reason! – but God has made our way safe. Ours is not a God of comfort and safety, but rather deliverance. Death may have lost its sting, but believe you me we will most certainly die.

So take up your cross, but remember: that yolk is (unexpectedly) light. Shout for joy!

What do you think God the Father sees when he looks on his Son Jesus Christ?

That’s a big question, so feel free to meditate for a bit (and consider revisiting it later).

God sees the exact same thing when he looks at you.

I’ll explain, if you need. When the Spirit comes upon a person, making them what we usually call a Christian, they are ‘clothed in Christ.’ The bible has all kinds of poetic descriptions of this – washed in his blood, robed in his righteousness, that we put on the aroma of Christ, etc.

The point is, we are covered by Christ. Theologians say his righteousness is imputed to us. This is the nature of divine forgiveness for our sins. Christ stands in our place at judgment, between us and God, so that all God sees is Christ.

To God, you look just like Jesus Christ. So what do you see in the mirror? What do you see in your fellow brothers and sisters? I’m thinking God has the right perspective on this one.

Don’t tell me. Next time a non-Christian asks what you do (especially if you’re a pastor), gripe a little. Griping to modern Americans is like eating – everyone does it, usually with company. Make sure you’re griping about struggles, not gossiping about saints. It doesn’t hurt to remind yourself (and tell your conversation buddy) why you put up with all that, too.

A little honesty might go a long way.

I’ve written a lot about small groups, and recently suggested an annual planting season approach. Lately I’ve been mulling over a church form that combines the strengths of both with low overhead, strong evangelism and powerful mission outreach. Tying everything together is a highly intentional, personal discipling process lived out in close community. Pew-sitters need not apply.

The premise is that rather than having a single large church experience, you have lots (and I mean lots) of cell churches or micro-churches. These are largely autonomous, and each church is probably no bigger than 40 people.

Membership means you’re expected to participate. Each church is guided by mentors (elders) who help others discern their God-given gifts and calling. Churches learn to obey the headship of Jesus Christ rather than any particular leader. The mentor is rather a kind of overseer who points people toward Christ, then gets out of the way so they can respond. This mentoring process is largely one-on-one, and each church typically raises up a handful of mentors.

The micro-churches are tied together into a network, with a central hub greatly resembling a diocese or parish. There is a central office and lead pastor, but the pastor’s job is to hold and spread a vision from God for the church. The pastor embeds the vision in key leaders (who we might tentatively call “deacons”) who are gifted and called to work with the micro-churches and mentors. These deacons also carry out the networking function, helping micro-churches stay connected. They also measure the health of the larger church through various metrics, combined with insights from working directly with micro-churches.

The office is the resource point for organizing large events or missions. One common event will be large-venue worship. This is not a weekly affair, but rather monthly or even quarterly. The key purpose is evangelism. Church members are expected to share faith with newcomers as much as experience the event. These events will take whatever shape will best reach the community.

In my own New Orleans context, I’d expect them to look like concert venues, all-day fairs or other large public events. They might happen in public parks, stadiums, convention centers or other places made to accomodate crowds.

The other common task of the central office is facilitating mission. Micro-churches carry all the weight, including following Christ’s call to mission service. Many mission projects take more than a couple dozen people, though, so the central office helps connect mission leaders to resources, existing non-profit networks, communications tools, training and whatever else they need.

The key to this model functioning successfully is discipleship. Members of the micro-churches must be disciples of Christ, prepared to follow his lead and act on his wisdom instead of their own ideas. This will never be a perfect scenario, which is why the deacons and lead pastor pay regular visits and keep in contact with the elders and church members. Much of this process is about encouragement and alignment.

This necessity is intentional. Declining churches are unhealthily dependent on the lead lastor, staff and a few overfunctioning leaders. Many just do as they’re told, passively receiving. The micro-church model takes many of the safeties off.

Many churches struggle with stagnant or declining participation from lay people. Even growing churches want to get more of the congregation active in ministry.

Often that means staff and clergy pick up the slack. This often leads to church members slacking more.

The reason lay people are notoriously passive is because of the very distinction between laity and staff/clergy. Laity are amateurs, while clergy are professionals. Lay people volunteer to support ministry, but the truth is the ministry belongs to the church, and the church is run by the professionals.

There are various strategies to boost lay ministry, but I believe they are ultimately short-sighted. When a particular mission is accomplished, laity will default back to a passive mentality until prodded into action again. The goal should not be specific participation but a perspective change that empowers laity to pursue mission without waiting for approval.

The first step for pastors and staff is stop doing ministry! As long as you’re willing to pick up the slack, laity will feel they have permission to leave slack.

Ministry is the job of the whole church, not a specially appointed caste of ministers. Pastors often see their calling as “doing ministry” when this actually robs the church of its full functioning.

Instead, pastors must become equippers of the saints. This does not happen through sermons, meetings, counseling, or educational opportunities. It happens through one-on-one or small group mentoring, to help members discern their personal gifts and callings, then coaching them on pursuing that calling with integrity. The goal must explicitly be to train and release a Christian missionary into the field.

The second step then is to train small group leaders. Leading the groups yourself maintains the perception that it’s the territory of professionals. For your first mentoring small group, seek out one or two people gifted and called to equip others for ministry. Focus your attention on them. Go to lunch, do hands-on mission together, talk to them about your work and ask for their thoughts. If you’ve stopped or at least reduced your time “doing ministry,” you’ll have time for this.

The third step will be getting out of the way. Depending on your polity and particular congregation, control is held by different people. If Christians are being released into mission with integrity, and continue to be supported and held accountable through small groups, they will need a streamlined process to gain permission. Ultimately, this should not require asking for it.

Christians will find true motivation only through pursuing Christ. The church’s job is to help them hear Christ’s call, discover Christ’s gifts, equip them for excellence, and keep them on track as they “run the race.”

What if every chuch planted another church every year? Just a thought.

Cheesy eighties song references are a good way to introduce a supernatural experience of the cross, right? That doesn’t cheapen it at all, right?

My wife and I went to the organic church conference in Orlando, led by Frank Viola, Alan Hirsch, Gary Welter and Milt Roderiguez. For the first time in my life, the cross made sense. Christ made his Way through death. That doesn’t mean we don’t have to die. On the contrary, it means we must die, we must be crucified along with our Lord.

So on the drive back my wife fell asleep, and I was meditating on a brief vision I’d had of Christ’s cross. I was on a golden road, and ahead of me was a golden gate set in a white stone wall. On the road, through the gate, on a short hill was the cross.

I was also considering the vastness of the sky, and how it surrounded us on all sides. It struck me as a fine reminder of its Creator. While I was thinking about this, the vision of the cross re-appeared in my mind. This time, just as I considered how the sky encompassed me, I considered my surroundings in the vision.

Behind me now was Christ, urging me forward. He walked me to his cross, which became an altar like the one Abraham almost sacrificed Isaac on. He laid me down, and before I really knew what to expect he drove a knife into my heart.

In my own body – while driving no less – I felt my spirit recede from my extremities, up through my ribs, past my heart, until it left my head and closed around the back of my eyes. My physical body continued, and I had control of it, but at a distance. My body was quite empty.

I thanked God for such a blessed experience, glad and scared all at once. But I knew I was safe. Slowly, like water seeping through a sponge, my spirit returned. Except now it wore my body like clothing, rather than being truly attached. I felt that way throughout the night. The sensation faded after sleep, but the memory remained.

Being separated from my body – my flesh, mind you – was overwhelmingly refreshing. For that brief time, my spirit was cleansed through death. After my spirit had returned, I saw the vision again, except now the cross was behind me and Jesus was ahead of me. We continued on the road together.

I was going to write something completely different, some nagging detail about the veracity of organic and institutional church, but realized how ultimately petty it was. Christ has shown himself to me that I might always remember him and be faithful. What more should I worry about?

Have you ever tried to do this? I have. I used to sweat busting butt to try and measure up to what I understood a Christian was supposed to be like. The result was a constant oscillation between good streaks and big dips into sin, with the occasional crash thrown in to shake things up.

The metaphor we use for our holiness is fruits. Working hard at bearing fruit is a pretty silly idea. Did you ever see an orange tree sweat?

So if we aren’t supposed to work hard, what do we do? Isaiah’s got a nice protip (Isaiah 30:15):

In repentence and rest is your salvation,
In quietness  and trust is your strength

Resting and being quiet is the hardest thing to do sometimes, especially if you’re in a spiritual desert. Remember the number one command: love God. Love doesn’t come by hard work, it comes from exploring and enjoying the other.

I’ve found the more I learn to rest, the less dips I have, and the crashes disappear entirely. I’m never perfect of course, but I just press closer to God. Everything else usually falls into place.

I’ve been engaged in organic church ideas a lot lately, and fairly critical of institutional church forms. I’ve also been involved in transformational ministry in the Presbyterian church. It makes for interesting cross-polination, to say the least.

I’ve had a couple good conversations with a pastor friend who’s congregation is involved in transformation. He’d heard some of what I’d been saying about organic church and was inspired to preach a sermon on the subject, so he invited me. I was very impressed, and wanted to share his core assertion as well as my own views.

The bottom line is Christ.

Throughout the transformation work, the mantra is “deeper in Christ, further with Christ in mission.” It usually focuses on practical problem-solving, but undergirding everything is a push toward a shift in perspective – away from institutional assumptions (or addictions), and toward going deep in Christ personally and mentoring others to do the same.

The organic church also starts with Christ. It’s about focusing solely on Christ, not letting human structures limit how Christ can express himself through a body of believers. It greatly resembles the New Testament churches of the first century – usually in houses, with full and equal participation among members.

I’m heading toward organic church with no apologies. But I also have strong connections to many brothers and sisters within institutional forms who have no desire to leave it behind. My friend’s sermon was pointed – admitting many problems with institutional forms but underscoring the all-important bottom line, Jesus Christ.

I believe the best path is to ignore questions of practice – at least at first. Hold nothing sacred, surrender all on the cross – preferences and qualms alike. When your singular focus is Christ and his mission, practices will fall into place. For me it often means learning to set aside frustrations, so my walk is defined by Christ instead of not-institutional.

We will fall short, of course. We have several guides – the Holy Spirit, scripture, our fellow saints, our conscience. We can’t know the complete truth of God’s design for his Church, but I believe the more we pursue Christ the more we will find ourselves in accord with his ways.

When a prostitute falls in love with a client, she can no longer accept money in good conscience from her lover. When the client falls in love with the prostitute, he can no longer pay in good conscience.

Not only can love not be bought, it refuses to be repaid. It is free. It is grace.

One of the scribes came near and heard them disputing with one another, and seeing that he answered them well, he asked him, “Which commandment is the first of all?” Jesus answered, “The first is, ‘Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.’ The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.”

Mark 12:28-29