Put simply, the church finds itself in a post-Christendom era, and it had better do some serious reflection or face increasing decline and eventual irrelevance.

The church of Jesus needs to wake up from the exile of passivity and embrace liminality and adventure or continue to remain a religious ghetto for culturally co-opted, fearful, middle-class folk.

Because we believe that somewhere in the nest of paradigms contained in the phrase "missional church" lies nothing less that the future viability of Western Christianity.

Building community for its own sake is like attending a cancer support group without having cancer.

You can do more with 12 disciples than with 1,200 religious consumers.

It's not so much that the church has a mission, it's that the mission of God has a church.

The safety-obsessed church lacks the inner dynamic to foster profound missional impact in our time.

A retreatist spirituality is not a spirituality that can, or will, transform the world in Jesus's name.

We will have to take risks, to chance failure, to be willing to walk away from the familiar paths that have brought us to this point.

Every Christian is a sent one. There is no such thing as an unsent Christian.

In missional churches, the baby birds have been pushed out of the nest and are learning to fly for themselves.

For me, no ideological or political conviction would justify the sacrifice of a human life. For me, the value of life is absolute, with no concessions. It's not negotiable.

Words are useless. Use your eyes to say a million things.

Once you’re on the pleasure express, it’s hard to get off and switch to another, slower service.

I do not have results ... I have an impossible task !!

I love competition and really going for it and doing my best, but losing isn't really upsetting to me. I feel like if I do lose, the other person really deserved it.

A woman should never underestimate the power of the child in the man. Sometimes the child seems to be in the driver's seat at the very moment when all a man's adult judgment and insight is needed.

Once upon a time, there were two moons, who were sisters. Nitid was the goddess of tears and life, and the sky was hers. No one worshipped Ellai but secret lovers.

It is difficult for me to regard anyone who obeys no moral principle in his conduct to be a religious man.

Our wounds are our sources of growth.