We Fall Down

Good morning, beloved community! It’s so good to be here with you today, at this intersection of unconditional love and transformation. Every Sunday, we gather here not just to worship, but to witness—to see what God is doing in this place, on this corner, in this beloved neighborhood of ours. And let me tell you something: if you’ve been paying attention, you’ll know that God is speaking here. God is moving. God is getting in recovery. God is telling a story of redemption, resilience, and restoration—right here, in the heart of the Tenderloin.

The story God’s been telling, beloved, is the story of liberation—the same one told through Moses leading the Israelites out of Egypt, through Jesus lifting up the oppressed, the broken-hearted, and the outcasts. It’s a story of grace that meets us where we are and refuses to leave us where it found us. Right here in the Tenderloin, God is telling that same story of hope. It’s a story of healing, rebuilding, and thriving. And it’s unfolding, right here, every day.

Today, we’re diving into an old story from a prophet named Amos, but we’re going to remix it right here for us, for Glide. Amos wasn’t preaching from a pulpit like this, y’all—he was a fig farmer, a worker, like so many of us. But he saw the world for what it was, and he couldn’t stay quiet about the injustice he saw around him. And neither can we.

“Seek the Lord and Live” (5:6)

Amos told the people to seek the Lord and live, but let’s break that down, Glide-style. Here, “seek the Lord” doesn’t mean putting on a robe or hiding in a monastery. It means seeking the breath of love in the hardest places. It means walking into that shelter, standing in line with folks waiting for a meal, hearing the stories of those who have been pushed to the margins. It means looking at the person who has been written off and seeing God’s face in theirs.

You want to seek God? Look around. The people of the Tenderloin—the hustlers, the addicts, the dreamers, the homeless—these are God’s people, just as much as you are God’s people. And we don’t seek God by turning our backs on them. No, no, no. Amos said it back then, and we say it now—if we seek justice, we find God. And when we find God, we live.

Justice Turned to Wormwood (5:7)

Amos wasn’t afraid to call it like it was, and neither are we. He said, “You who turn justice into wormwood,” and oh, do we know about that bitterness here. We know about justice that’s been twisted. Justice that tastes bitter to the poor and sweet to the rich. Justice that’s nothing more than gentrification, incarceration, and eviction dressed up as "policy." You see, Amos was talking to people who built stone houses for themselves while others slept in the street. Does that sound familiar to anyone here? We see it right here—developers building, investing, or stockpiling housing while our unhoused neighbors struggle to find shelter. Amos says they plant vineyards, but they’ll never drink the wine. That’s because any wealth built on the backs of the poor is doomed to crumble. It cannot stand.

And beloved, I’ve got to ask you: Are we turning justice into wormwood today? Are we sitting silent while the system works against the vulnerable? Because Amos said it’s easy to hate the one who speaks truth in the gate. It’s easy to look away when someone tells you the truth about your own privilege just by the condition they’re in. But here at Glide, we don’t look away, do we?

Let’s talk about Glide Memorial for a minute. We are a church, and like the prophet Amos calls us to do, we promise to seek justice, righteousness, and love at every gate. We are committed to embodying the work of the Radical Unconditionally Loving Brother of Cecil-Christ and the prophets, knowing that this journey requires perseverance. Amos reminds us that justice must not be twisted into bitterness, and that righteousness must not fall to the ground. In that spirit, we pledge to stand firm, even when challenges arise, and ensure that our mission as a church remains at the forefront.

And when we stumble, as Donnie McClurkin reminds us in "We Fall Down," we will rise again. Every fall is an opportunity to get back up, and as a church, we will rise together—renewed and strengthened in our calling to love and serve. Glide will continue to be a place where justice and faith meet, where our spiritual core shines through every act of service. We are not simply a charity or a foundation; we are the church that Rev. Cecil Williams envisioned, rooted in love, committed to justice, and anchored in faith. We promise to stay grounded in that legacy, rising every time we fall.

“They Hate the One Who Reproves in the Gate” (5:10):

It’s no secret that speaking the truth will get you into trouble. Amos said, “They hate the one who reproves in the gate.” In ancient cities, the gate was the courthouse—the place where justice was supposed to be handed out. Amos was saying, “Y’all hate it when someone tells you the truth about yourselves, don’t you?” And isn’t that the truth today? When we stand up for the unhoused, when we challenge the systems that keep people locked out of housing, out of healthcare, out of safety, we become the ones they hate. But you know what? We’ll take that. We’ll take that hate because we know that the gate is not a place for silence. We will speak truth, we will demand justice, and we will call out the systems that are designed to keep people down.

You know who was like Amos? Rev. Cecil Williams. When others said it was enough to give charity, Cecil said, “No, we will give love. We will give justice.” And who knows who the prophet is today? It might be Pierre, who’s in recovery and standing right here in front of us. Or it might be you. Don’t count yourself out. You might be the one who’s been called to stand in the gate and speak truth to power.

“We Fall Down, But We Get Up”:

And let’s not forget something important, family: we fall down, but we get up. Donnie McClurkin’s song isn’t just a lyric; it’s a testimony, a sermon, a truth. We fall, every single one of us, but that’s not the end of the story. Getting up is. For a saint, McClurkin tells us, is just a sinner who fell down and got back up again. It’s the act of getting back up that transforms us. It’s the falling and rising that makes us resilient, that reminds us of the grace we live in every day.

Here at Glide, we know something about rising again. Just because you’ve fallen doesn’t mean you’re finished. Like Amos told the people, and like McClurkin sings to us, it’s in the getting up that we find grace. Each fall, each misstep, becomes an opportunity to rise again, stronger, more filled with love, and more committed to justice. We rise, Glide! And when we rise, we rise for the people, for the fight, and for the healing of our communities.

“You Trample on the Poor” (5:11):

Amos didn’t shy away from calling out the wealthy elite for trampling on the poor. He talked about taking levies of grain from people who couldn’t afford to give it. Today, we’re not talking about grain—we’re talking about rent spikes. We’re talking about medical debt. We’re talking about wages that can’t keep up with the cost of living. We’re talking about the way the poor are bled dry, while the rich build their hewn stone houses.

But here’s the thing: those houses won’t last. Those vineyards won’t bear fruit. Why? Because anything built on the suffering of others cannot stand. It’s unjust. And the prophet Amos—and the prophet Glide—tell us that justice will always find a way to burn through the lies.

“Seek Good and Not Evil” (5:14)

Amos gave the people a clear choice: Seek good, not evil, and live. But this isn’t just about personal morality. This is about the choices we make as a community. This is about systemic change. It’s about asking ourselves, “Are we seeking good for everyone? Or just for ourselves?”

We live in a world that’s designed to let the privileged rise while the poor struggle to survive. But here’s the truth—Glide is where the privileged and the challenged meet. It’s where we’re all called to seek good, not just for ourselves, but for each other. The prophet Amos said, “Establish justice in the gate.” Glide, we have to establish justice here. That’s why we’re here! To make sure the vulnerable aren’t forgotten, to challenge the systems that oppress, to demand justice for every single person who walks through these doors, or sleeps on these streets.

Conclusion

Beloved, I’m calling on you today to listen to the prophet Amos. He’s speaking directly to us here in the Tenderloin. He’s speaking to the hustlers, the broken-hearted, the tired, the rich, the poor, black and white, young and old, blue and red stated, housed and unhoused, the ones who have fallen and the ones still standing. He’s calling us to turn back to God, to love justice, to reject evil, and to establish justice in every gate—whether it’s the courthouse gate, the church gate, or the gates we’ve put up around our own hearts.

Amos is calling us to be brave enough to face the truth about the world we live in, the systems that are stacked against the poor, and the ways we may have been silent or complicit. But he's also calling us to be courageous enough to change it. And that courage, beloved, comes from having a faith-based response to suffering. The checks we write, the volunteering we do, the attendance we show—it’s more than just action. It’s rooted in our spirit and our transformation. We choose to have a heart for this work because it’s not just about charity or obligation. It’s about faith. It’s about recognizing that every moment we give of ourselves, we are planting seeds of love, hope, and justice. This work is holy, and it transforms us as much as it transforms those we serve.

We fall down, but we get up. We’ve seen failure, heartbreak, and injustice. But we have also seen hope, resilience, and community. And like the song says, a saint is just a sinner who fell down and got up. We are that community of saints—not because we are perfect, but because we rise. Every single day, we rise again. And each time we rise, we rise for justice, for love, for the most vulnerable among us. Let our rising be a testament to our faith, our commitment to transformation, and the belief that through God, we are called to be the change. Every step, every act of service, every heart that shows up is part of a sacred, faith-based response that transforms this world into one where love and justice reign.

Amen.