Douglass Church - Douglass Blvd Christian Church

God comes to us and says, 'There are some folks who need my love and compassion. I want you to go to them. I want you to love them for me.' 'Which folks?' 'All my children. You know who I’m talking about, the ones no respectable church wants. The ones who’ve been systematically told they’re not welcome. The ones who don’t have anybody to speak up for them. Don’t talk right. Don’t dress right. Don’t have the right kind of money. Don’t live in the right part of town. Don’t love the right person. Don’t have the right skin color. I want you to go to them.' Subscribe to us on iTunes! Sermon text: web | doc

So, when Jesus arrived on the scene, Palestine was desperate for another messiah, a hero, someone to rally the oppressed locals to finally kick the Roman interlopers out of Palestine. They needed, in short, a messiah acquainted with the business end of a sword. I suspect you can imagine that when Jesus starts talking about humiliation and death as his vision of messiahship, how it is that so many people completely fail to hear him. They didn’t quite get it. Subscribe to us on iTunes! Sermon text: web | doc

Jesus says, “Here’s what my glory looks like: Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Those who love their life will lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever wants to catch on with my band of merry souls can look forward to the same kind of ‘glory’ with which I’m about to be ‘glorified.’” And you can hear the wheels spinning in the Greeks’ minds: “What kind of glory is he talking about? Seeds falling to earth and dying? What does that mean? We know what glory looks like, and frankly, it doesn’t look like dead seeds. So, what’s he ta

Have you noticed how many people think the table is too big—that we’ve got no business telling everybody they’re welcome? They say, “Well, of course, everyone’s welcome ... just as soon as they get their beliefs straightened out”—which, translated, generally means: “just as soon as they promise to believe all the things we believe, to hate all the things we hate, and to exclude all the people we exclude.” I’m not quite sure how to put this, but no matter how systematic your theology is, that’s not Jesus. And this is what I think Jesus is getting at when he starts talking about those who hate the light, who love darkness because their deeds are evil. Subscribe to us on iTunes! Sermon tex

Many people believe that God is to be found at the “temple.” So, they spend a great deal of time trying to figure out how to help people find their way through the doors that they’ve been told for so long is the place where they can meet God. But since so many people don’t believe religion has much impact on their lives, it’s hard to justify taking prime time out of a weekend to go to church. For people struggling to live faithfully, perhaps the focus should be on where God is moving outside the church's walls, away from the giant stable system that seems so comfortable and inevitable. Subscribe to us on iTunes! Sermon text: web | doc

Wayward children. Problem spouses. Overbearing parents. Demanding bosses. Arthritis. The heartbreak of Psoriasis. Male-pattern baldness. All of these and more serious things that bring suffering are commonly referred to as “crosses to bear.” But that’s not right, is it? Jesus isn’t talking about the cross-as-symbol-of-just-any-garden-variety suffering. He’s talking about the death-dealing power of the state to impose its will on anyone with enough courage or enough gullibility to question it. Subscribe to us on iTunes! Sermon text: web | doc

With the uncertainty Jesus has just laid out for them about picking up their crosses and dying as enemies of the state, Peter sees the ancient Near Eastern version of the Justice League all wearing their technicolor dream coats, and he says, “You know, all things considered, this seems like a swell place to be. Why don’t we pitch a few tents and stay right here? I totally get why the disciples would rather just watch Jeopardy than head down that mountain into an untenable political environment that would soon cost Jesus everything. Subscribe to us on iTunes! Sermon text: web | doc

But if Jesus’ mission is about healing, about re-establishing the dignity and purpose of others, of helping them to find a place that’s safe and affirming—then, perhaps, we who are his followers ought to follow suit. Perhaps we should be less concerned with doing what everyone else thinks churches ought to do and worry more about doing what Jesus calls us to do—to make a place in the world for those who have no place. Subscribe to us on iTunes! Sermon text: web | doc

Why? Because Jesus speaks as one with authority—a new kind of authority; he speaks the truth … always. Jesus is, according to this definition, a faithful jihadist who squares off against the powers that preserve injustice by privileging certain classes of "worthy" people, giving them access—while excluding the powerless and the disadvantaged. And we who are trying to follow him don't get to excuse ourselves from the messiness. We don't get to stand by silently while some folks get kicked to the back of the bus, or dragged kicking and screaming back across the border, or singled out for the bathrooms they use. We have our own tyrants before

Maybe God’s trying to tell you something at this very moment. Maybe there’s not some big PowerPoint pitch to lay out all the pros and cons, not some incentivized benefits package, not some assurance that everything’s going to turn out right, and you’ll become famous, have wonderful, well-adjusted kids, and escape the ravages of arthritis. Maybe it’s just a tug, a gnawing at the edge of your mind that you can’t quite shake, saying, “Follow me. Drop what you’re doing, and follow. Immediately.”

Herod resides in regal luxury in the thriving metropolis of Jerusalem; Jesus begins his life relying on the generosity of visitors in a modest dwelling in Bethlehem. Herod has access to the most influential leader of the time; Jesus, a mere infant, doesn’t even have access to the local Red Roof Inn. Yet, what’s truly captivating in this narrative is the fact that Herod, embodying power and affluence, is deeply terrified of Jesus—a seemingly insignificant child from an obscure backwater. Despite all his wealth and security, Herod wakes up the day after the Magi’s departure, tasting only the bitter tang of fear and feeling a weight of dread

In a world that feels increasingly out of control every day, we’ve been given glad tidings that sound unrealistic at best and downright deranged at worst. We live in a world that has a way of grinding people down, making them beg for their bread, and judging them by the color of their skin, the country of their origin, the fullness of their bank account, and the people they love. In short, we live in a world content to force people to justify their very humanity before we’ll even see them as neighbors. Into such a world comes Mark’s Gospel, carrying John the Baptist, Elijah, Jesus, Caesar, and the whole Roman Empire on its back—announcing

God created and loves individuals. No doubt. But God didn’t create us to remain focused on our individuality. In God’s new realm, freedom doesn’t just release individuals from their own private bondage; it also sets individuals and communities free for others so that all God’s children can flourish. "=Why does 'freedom' in so many people's mouths appear to mean little more than 'freedom to feel superior to everybody who doesn’t look/talk/love like I do?' Subscribe to us on iTunes! Sermon text: web | doc

Why does God identify so strongly with these, the powerless? Well, for one thing, God created us … all of us. And afterward, God paused to consider the fine craftsmanship of God’s hands. Apparently, God was heard to say, 'That’s pretty dang good! No … Yeah, that’s excellent!' So, it stands to reason that God might take more than a little exception to watching those whom God has so lovingly called forth into existence have their dignity trampled. Their lives are threatened, either by those who actively seek to exploit the defenseless or those who commit their violence through neglect. God has always seen those who remain invisible, unseen to so many. Subscri

When we read about vulnerable people being evicted and left to survive in the streets, we find a way not only to help feed and shelter but to agitate for justice in housing. When we witness White nationalists openly advocate bigotry and threaten violence, we don't sit idly by and hope everything turns out all right; we take sides. We followers of Jesus not only sound the alarm, we figure out a way to be in the middle of it—organizing, protesting, lobbying, healing, dispensing the mercy denied by the merciless Subscribe to us on iTunes! Sermon text: web | doc

But God says, “If everything else you do isn’t motivated by your love of the imperiled and unremembered, then it’s worse than if you’d done nothing at all. If you’d done nothing, at least that would be an honest admission that you don’t understand. As it is, you take for granted you already know what I want. But that’s the thing: there’s no way to know what I want without looking into the eyes of those who’ve been cast aside.”“Do you know what I really want?” God says. “I want justice to roll down like water and righteousness like an everflowing stream. And I want you to be all mixed up in the middle of it.”Subscribe to us on iTunes! Sermon text: web

Caesar’s always going to want what Caesar wants. Wall Street. Madison Avenue. They vie for our attention like it’s their birthright. There are so many claims placed upon our loyalties ... from every direction. And, sometimes, that which pursues us most relentlessly is our own desire to be in control, to be ourselves, gatekeepers of God’s mercy. We in the church have been guilty of spurning the gifts people bring to God. But Jesus isn’t having it. Jesus says, "Give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar; give to God what belongs to God. But here’s the thing: It all belongs to God." Subscribe to us on iTunes! Sermon text: web | doc

Unlike Matthew's original readers, when Jesus started talking about a King giving a wedding banquet, his audience wouldn't have immediately made the connection between the King in the parable and God. They would be much more likely to see their own cultural struggles in this King—who, let's be honest, seems pretty vindictive and pouty. No, “vindictive and pouty” would have described not their vision of God but of a genuine political figure in their own world—somebody like King Herod Antipas. Jesus' listeners knew about arbitrary rulers who pursued their self-aggrandizing interests at the expense of the people they were supposed to protect. It seems clear that

Jesus heads into the vineyard to cheers of “Hosanna. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.” But he can read the political tea leaves. He’s got a pretty good idea where this story is headed. So, it should be no great surprise to learn that Jesus is a little testy—even in the face of the palm branches. He knows which way the political wind is blowing—but he walks into the vineyard anyway. The parable ends. The fate of the vineyard is yet unresolved. But we know that already, don’t we? We’ve seen too much injustice two thousand years in to believe the vineyard has changed much. Subscribe to us on iTunes! Sermon text: web | doc