There’s a movement within the church today, especially in America, that assumes God builds His Kingdom the way the world builds theirs: through power, polish, strategy, influence, and impressive people. It’s the instinct that says the church must be culturally respected, politically connected, socially adored, and publicly successful if we’re going to make any real difference. And if we’re being honest, part of us wants that. Because it feels safer. It feels legitimate. It feels like winning. I call this the “Popularity Gospel”. Make Jesus popular enough, and we will change the world. But Scripture keeps confronting us with a different pattern. God builds in places we would never think to look, and He starts with people we would never think to choose. When God forms a kingdom, He doesn’t go to the palace first, He almost always goes to the wilderness. He gathers the weary, not the strong. He picks caves over cathedrals, fishermen over Pharisees, tax collectors over senators, shepherd boys over kings. And today’s passage is one of the clearest windows into that pattern. David’s kingdom doesn’t begin with splendor and coronation, power or influence. It begins in fear, rejection, vulnerability, and a cave full of misfits. It’s a moment that forces us to ask a provocative question before we read the text: What kind of people does God gather to build His Kingdom with? And Where does He build it?
