Amos - Justice, Judgement and Joy?

Today we begin our new series in the book of Amos. Now, Amos isn’t perhaps the best-known book of the Bible. It’s part of the “minor prophets” – not “minor” because it’s less important, but because it’s shorter. But don’t be fooled by its size. Amos is one of the most hard-hitting, unsettling, and timely books in all of Scripture.

Who was Amos?

Amos lived about 750 years before Jesus. He wasn’t a professional prophet or a priest. In fact, he tells us himself: “I was no prophet, nor a prophet’s son; I was a shepherd and a dresser of sycamore figs. But the Lord took me… and said, ‘Go, prophesy to my people Israel’” (Amos 7:14–15).

So here we have a working man – a small-town shepherd – suddenly called by God to go north, to the kingdom of Israel, and to speak words no one wanted to hear.

Where was he preaching?

The northern kingdom of Israel at the time looked strong and successful. Under King Jeroboam II, the economy was booming. The borders were secure. Religion was thriving. The sanctuaries at Bethel and Gilgal were packed, festivals were lively, and people thought, “God must be pleased with us.”

But Amos saw beneath the surface. The poor were being trampled. Judges took bribes. The rich lounged on ivory couches, eating lavishly, while the needy struggled to survive. It was a society of extremes: prosperity for some, crushing poverty for others.

Why was he preaching?

Why send Amos? Because the people had convinced themselves that wealth was proof of blessing, and that religious ritual was enough to keep God on side.

Amos came to say: “You can’t sing to God on the Sabbath and cheat your neighbour on Monday. You can’t praise Yahweh while ignoring the poor made in his image.”

It was a devastating message. The people thought judgment was only for their enemies. But Amos said: “No – judgment begins with the house of God.”

Points of contention

This made Amos deeply unpopular.

He denounced religious hypocrisy: “I despise your feasts, I take no delight in your assemblies… But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream” (Amos 5:21–24).

He exposed social injustice: selling the poor for the price of a pair of sandals, crushing the needy in court (Amos 2).

He warned against false security: the “Day of the Lord” would not be a day of blessing for them, but of darkness, unless they repented.

Themes of Amos

The message of Amos rings with key themes:

God is sovereign over all nations – not just Israel.

Justice and righteousness are the true test of faithfulness.

True worship cannot be separated from daily life.

Judgment and mercy – most of the book is warning, but it ends with hope: God will restore the house of David and bring blessing to the nations (Amos 9:11–15).

Contemporary echoes

And here’s where Amos suddenly feels very close to home.

Because we too live in a culture that often equates wealth with blessing. We too are tempted to separate Sunday worship from Monday living. We too face systems where the strong thrive and the weak are pushed aside.

Think of the cost-of-living crisis. Think of foodbanks stretched to capacity. Think of garment workers paid pennies while fast fashion sells for pounds. Think of refugees caught in political crossfire.

Into that kind of world, Amos still speaks: “Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.”

Modern use of Amos

That very verse became one of the rallying cries of the civil rights movement in the United States. Martin Luther King Jr. quoted it repeatedly – most famously in his “I Have a Dream” speech in Washington in 1963.

Why? Because Amos gave voice to the cry that religious language and political ceremony mean nothing if justice is denied to the oppressed. King understood that Amos was not only talking to ancient Israel – but to any society that sings hymns while ignoring the cries of the poor.

And so, from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial to the streets of Birmingham, Alabama, Amos’ cry rang out again: “Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream.”

Application for us

So what does this mean for us here in Kinson today?

Amos confronts us with searching questions:

Do our songs of worship overflow into lives marked by compassion through the week?

Are we awake to the injustices around us – in global systems and in our own neighbourhoods?

Do we ever presume that being “the church” somehow shields us from God’s holy gaze?

Amos is clear: God is not satisfied with hollow religion. He desires justice and righteousness – a people who reflect his holy character in every sphere of life.

And yet, the book does not leave us in despair. The hope of Amos points forward to the cross of Christ. Amos ends with the promise that God will one day raise up the fallen tent of David and restore his kingdom (Amos 9:11). That promise finds its fulfilment in Jesus, the true Son of David. Where Israel failed to live faithfully, Jesus lived in perfect obedience. Where injustice and sin demanded judgment, Jesus bore that judgment in his own body on the cross. At Calvary, the justice of God was not set aside but fully satisfied – sin was condemned, wrongs were named for what they were, and the penalty was paid. But in the very same moment, mercy was poured out as forgiveness, reconciliation, and new life were offered to all who believe.

Justice is a terrifying word if we are among the comfortable and the privileged, because it exposes our complicity, strips away our illusions, and reminds us that God sees every hidden selfishness. But for the poor, the voiceless, and the oppressed, justice is good news – it is freedom, dignity, and hope. Amos reminds us that God’s justice is never cruel or arbitrary; it is the righteous setting-right of all that has gone wrong, the lifting of the lowly, and the bringing down of the proud, until mercy and truth meet together in Christ.

This is the restoration Amos glimpsed from afar: a kingdom rooted in the line of David, but accomplished not by military strength or earthly prosperity, but by the sacrifice of the Lamb. In Christ’s death and resurrection, the ruins are rebuilt, the breach is healed, and a new kingdom is inaugurated – a kingdom where justice and mercy are no longer in tension, but held together perfectly in him.

And that brings us to a decision. For Amos, the call was urgent: turn back to God while there is still time. And for us, the invitation is just as urgent. To accept Christ’s sacrifice means receiving forgiveness for our own sins, trusting that he has borne the judgment we deserve, and stepping into his kingdom where mercy and justice meet. It means no longer living with empty religion, but with hearts made new by grace. It means finding hope beyond ourselves, hope rooted in the King who restores.

So as we walk through Amos together, let us allow his words to unsettle our complacency and open our eyes. But above all, let us allow them to point us to Jesus – the One who restores us through his sacrifice, and who calls us to live out his justice and mercy in the world, not only in our words of worship, but in the whole pattern of our lives.