Douglass Church - Douglass Blvd Christian Church

He could play it safe—you know, suck up to the religious bigwigs, make friends with the influential political high-rollers. But instead, he seeks out the last, the least, and the lost—because he’s not interested in establishing some kind of stable empire where everybody has to come and kiss his ring because he's so important. But instead, he drops any ambitions he might have had about being a big shot, walks down the first dark alley he sees, and starts having theological discussions with the invisible folks everybody else would just as soon forget. But when Jesus ventures down dark alleys looking for those who creep around the edges, he redefines the edges so that the margins are set in the center; and it’s the folks who usually occupy the center who risk finding themse

But because God loves the world—even with all its fear and distrust, God sent Jesus not to condemn the old world, to throw it on the scrap heap. Instead, according to the translation in your pew Bible, God sent Jesus to “save” the world. The word for salvation is probably better translated “healing” here. In other words, Jesus comes to transform the lower world from above and usher in a new reign, a new realm, a new world that looks like heaven right here on earth. Subscribe to us on iTunes! Sermon text: web | doc

In Matthew’s hands, the devil is supposed to be a clever stand-in for Caesar and his empire, who argues that all the kingdoms of the world are his to dispose of as he sees fit. So, the question posed by this story to the congregation at Antioch struggling with where to put its trust, given the annoying fact of all of Caesar’s persistent and humiliating reminders of who’s in charge, is: Where does the church place its trust? Does the church trust the old regimes and their systems of domination to solve people’s problems, or does it trust the means of producing equity and abundance available in God’s new realm where power remains in God’s hands and never in the hands of the giant babies who holler like scalded cats to let everyone know they get to be boss? Subscribe to

Peering into the dark valley ahead—the one Jesus has just announced—the thought of camping out on the mountaintop with the Palestinian Justice League sounds like a pretty safe place to be, doesn’t it? Ever feel like that? You’re getting ready to graduate; the kids are getting ready to leave home, or the nurses are prepping you for surgery. As tough as it was in the past, the future seems way scarier. Even if the past was hard, at least you lived through it. You’re not sure you’ll survive what feels like the Zombie Apocalypse coming at you from around the next corner. Subscribe to us on iTunes! Sermon text: web | doc

And this is a crucial point to make for people whose purpose for existing requires them to live as agents of God’s love. We’re salt and light. We are who we are, not because the situation calls for it or because of how others treat us, but because through the eyes of the God who created us, we’re already everything we need to be because God made us this way. And through the eyes of an executed carpenter, we’re able to see a vision of a new world that embraces us—all of who we are … garbage heap and unexcavated treasure. No matter how hard we fight it, we can’t crush it out of existence, and we can’t run far enough away from it. Subscribe to us on iTunes! Sermon text: web | doc

So when Jesus says that those who will be blessed are the poor in spirit in God's kingdom, he’s not talking about the fainthearted. He’s talking about those who are actually poor, those who are so far down the economic ladder that their spirits are characterized by the constant despair that they’ll ever be able to go to bed at night without the gnawing horror of hunger to keep them awake. When Jesus says that the new world God is creating will bless those who mourn, he’s not suggesting that people go out and find things to be sad about—the people whom Jesus grew up with, and lived and worked with, didn’t have to go searching for sadness. On the contrary, the very nature of their existence meant that sorrow, suffering, and grief had already built an evil home among them.

But this new realm Jesus announces is the kind of good news that appeals to everybody else—the other 99%. In fact, the news is so good that, according to Matthew, "Jesus went throughout Galilee teaching in [the] synagogues and proclaiming" it—healing the social, physical, and economic disease in the land. Because this new realm is best exemplified not so much by Jesus' rhetorical gifts but through his traveling about and “curing every disease and every sickness among the people." In other words, the “kingdom of heaven” concerns itself with healing instead of domination and violence. It seeks out not the most powerful but the people everybody else walks past without noticing—the sick, the poor, the hungry, the houseless, and those who've lived virtually every day with th

The scriptures present any number of images of God—God the Lion of Judah, the watchful shepherd, the heartbroken lover, the vigilant protector, the loving parent who expects more from us than we’re often willing to give, the vulnerable shepherd who places God’s life in our hands. So why focus all your energy on a God who seems perpetually aggrieved, who prefers manipulation to attraction, whose greatest desire seems to be to set down impossible expectations in the hope that nobody will meet them so God can finally do what God, according to them, has wanted to do all along? Lower the boom and send us all to hell. And if that’s the God you serve, isn’t that the example you imitate? If you believe that a bitter, resentful, and suspicious God is the image in which you were c

But that gives us a clue about the character of the new world God is creating. True power, God’s creative power, will never be found in the place logic tells us to look, among the people logic tells us to expect. This new realm that Jesus inaugurates will always be found among the least likely people in the most outrageous places. People and places no intelligent, successful, influential folks would ever think to look. Subscribe to us on iTunes! Sermon text: web | doc

Jesus was crucified not because he annoyed the Jewish religious leaders, as has been popularly taught for years, but because Caesar’s goons were afraid he’d lead a revolt and try to take over Jerusalem. And they wanted to nip that one in the bud while communicating to the hoi polloi that making political noise could land you in hot water. And this, in a nutshell, is why everyone was so baffled and upset by Jesus. Everybody, his followers, the general population, the two criminals whose company he was now keeping all expected something different from him. They wanted a messiah—which was as much a political term as a religious one. Everyone, including the Romans, thought Jesus was going to incite a rebellion to overthrow the Roman government. In other words, they wanted Su

What if, for a world satisfied with things it already takes for granted—that white men should always occupy the top of the food chain and that a person’s money or power ought to be the measure of their worth—what if our job as God’s children is to unleash the poetry about a “new heaven and a new earth”—a place where preposterous, unthinkable things are possible? A place where there are no more cries of distress, where the work of our hands is not claimed by someone else for their profit, a place where children are blessed and protected, where the wolf poses no threat to the lamb, where people live without fear that those in power can come along and steal their security, or their dignity, or their bodies. Subscribe to us on iTunes! Sermon text: web | doc

According to Jesus, the reign of God is for losers. It’s for all the people who’re afraid that they’re not worthy, that they don’t have enough going on to commend themselves. It's for everyone who's spent too much time feeling left out, left behind, left holding the bag—all those people who are so casually ignored by everyone else every day. The good news of the Gospel is that no one has it all together—least of all, the people who cling to wealth and power like a life preserver in an angry sea. Our lives aren’t blessed because we’ve managed to do amazing and wonderful things that make everybody else envious. Our lives are blessed because God desires us, regardless of our condition. We are saints, in other words, not because we’re perfect but in spite of the fact that we

The promise of the reign of God is that we will all be seen for who we really are … and we won’t have to worry anymore about everyone seeing all of us—even the humiliating parts. And now, if we want to follow Jesus, our job is to try to seek out others who are desperately trying to be seen themselves—to see them as they truly are … children of God, people God loves just as much as God loves us. Subscribe to us on iTunes! Sermon text: web | doc

It should come as no surprise that Jesus sets this parable within the confines of the temple in Jerusalem, which kept you constantly aware of where everyone fits into the great cosmic org chart. There was a wall in the temple to separate the Gentiles from the Jews. A wall separating the women from the men and the priests from the *ordinary men. And there were walls separating the high priest from everyone else. Walls divide us by identifying who’s allowed in and who has to stand outside with the other riff-raff. But Jesus says that all the walls that decide for us who’s in and who’s out are the problem. They’re convenient, to be sure. But the real problem is the walls render people disposable without requiring us to look them in the eye and peer into the brokenness of their hearts to see the children God cr

We pray not so that God might get frustrated and finally provide us with what we think we deserve but so that God's reign here on earth might be revealed. A reign where the vulnerable and the destitute, the unseen and the unheard, the abused and the neglected will not be an afterthought to those in power but whose protection is the very reason power gets wielded in the first place. Subscribe to us on iTunes! Sermon text: web | doc

And Luke doesn’t seem helpful when he says, “What? Did you think you were getting a Barcalounger and a lifetime supply of attaboys?” But you see, in the reign of God, that’s good news. You don’t have to feel like a failure just because your life with Jesus isn’t one long unbroken string of notable successes. Just because you don’t always feel like you believe hard enough. Just because people aren’t breaking down doors to tell you what a great job you’re doing. If you’re doing it the way Luke suggests, following Jesus may not only not feel like a reward; it may be the very thing that lands you in trouble. Subscribe to us on iTunes! Sermon text: web | doc

In a world where crosses and leper colonies exist to dispose of “human waste”—Jesus says “no.” In the face of all the name-calling and lynching and fighting and warring, Jesus appears, takes his place on the tree, and offers up what, at first, sounds like a whispered “no”—weak and ineffectual. Just the words of a dying man on a government hit list. But the echoes of that “no” reverberate. Subscribe to us on iTunes! Sermon text: web | doc