Amos: Justice Rolls Down

Alright, we’re continuing through the narrative of the Scriptures, fully embedded now in the Prophets of Israel. Historically, we’re looking at the last 1000 years or so BCE. It’s a time of building, geopolitical change, and the evolution of the Israelite understanding of prophecy, the divine word of God speaking through prophets to address the people and their ways of living.

Last week, we heard the story of Elijah and waiting for the still small voice of God.

This week, we get God’s voice as a roaring lion, a torrent of rushing water, with the prophet Amos.

Amos 1:1–2 NRSV

The words of Amos, who was among the shepherds of Tekoa, which he saw concerning Israel in the days of King Uzziah of Judah and in the days of King Jeroboam son of Joash of Israel, two years before the earthquake. And he said: The Lord roars from Zion, and utters his voice from Jerusalem; the pastures of the shepherds wither, and the top of Carmel dries up.

There is a theme through the book of Amos of a Lion roaring out the message of God. It is the Lion of Judah, the voice of God’s prophets, calling the people to repentance and righteousness. Throughout Amos, the critique of other nations and their sinfulness build’s Amos’ argument, but it is the pinnacle when he turns his truth-telling upon Israel.

Amos, dated about 750 BCE, is living in a time when Israel flourished in a time of weakness for the Assyrian empire. Their territory expanded, wealth grew, and under the kings Jeroboam II and Uzziah, it was a time of relative prosperity and stability.

We long for times of stability. But isn’t it often the case that when we are no longer feeling pressure, humanity is prone to idleness, sin, and distortion? Stability is good, but it can also breed complacency or apathy.

It is to this we hear the Prophet rail. Amos, like many of the other Old Testament prophets, is not so much predicting the future, as he is pointing out the truth to the people. Prophets tell the truth, even when it is uncomfortable. Even when it embarrasses us or unmasks a root issue. Prophets tell the truth, and often it is truth that the elite, the established, the secure, need to hear.

Let’s continue on…

Amos 5:14–15 NRSV

Seek good and not evil, that you may live; and so the Lord, the God of hosts, will be with you, just as you have said. Hate evil and love good, and establish justice in the gate; it may be that the Lord, the God of hosts, will be gracious to the remnant of Joseph.

Amos is reminded the people of who they are. They are to be a righteous people, disciplined and committed to the worship of God that is humble, pure, and true.

You see, though, in this time of stability, worship and religious life took on a higher degree of pageantry and pomp. Worship has become show.

Before I read this next section, I have to point out — we need this prophetic kind of voice today. Amos spoke to a people who were making religious life about show and production. We have this exact issue in the United States, and elsewhere. I don’t want to be unkind or make a blanket statement, but entertain this with me: Loud praise music, dim lights, concert atmosphere. Slick words, polished PowerPoints, emotional swells, hands waving, eyes closed. All wonderful in their way.

But we are witnessing a crisis in the Church in our country, where we prioritize show and presentation, dogma and orthodoxy, but lack the call and action of justice and peacemaking.

So the first example sounds a lot like megachurch hyped up worship. All show and wonder, but lacking practical steps to justice.

Another example that comes to mind is how we have communities of faith that are so strict about their rules and doctrine that the act of worship is to worship the law, the book, the right answers (as we define them), and not stepping out of line. This, in it’s own way, is a form of idolatry and control. It’s a show in it’s own right — follow the leader, don’t ask questions, just do the liturgy as you are instructed. It’s all a show.

Ok, the final passage from Amos…this one with feeling…

Amos 5:21–24 NRSV

I hate, I despise your festivals, and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies. Even though you offer me your burnt offerings and grain offerings, I will not accept them; and the offerings of well-being of your fatted animals I will not look upon. Take away from me the noise of your songs; I will not listen to the melody of your harps. But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.

One of my favorite Christian lyricists, Jon Foreman, sings it this way:

I hate all your show and pretense The hypocrisy of your praise The hypocrisy of your festivals I hate all your show Away with your noisy worship Away with your noisy hymns I stop up my ears when you’re singing them I hate all your show

Instead, let there be a flood of justice An endless procession of righteous living, living Instead, let there be a flood of justice, Instead of a show.

Amos’ lion has roared. We should shudder at the truth the lion is speaking to us.

Alright, where do we go with this text? Clearly, we need to take stock of how we worship, but even beyond that, how do we take an honest assessment of our lives to root out pretense, show, and return to righteousness?

So much of what we learn in the Scriptures about righteous living is that it requires us to look honestly at our faults and missteps, honestly naming what we have done wrong, and amending or changing the way forward.

I want to talk about how this prophetic word might speak to some of our lives and to our broader world today. We have a problem, especially in our American Christian culture, of replacing true worship with show, vanity, and control.

Piety

First, Amos’ truth-telling should make us consider how we understand our piety and religious devotion. Many years ago, when I first started studying Latin American Liberation Theology, I encountered this discussion of orthodoxy (right belief) vs. or in tandem with orthopraxy (right action). I’ll say this — we are pretty good at orthodoxy in our culture. Like, we like to know the right answers. That helps us feel secure. So we write it all down, we clarify the theology, we make an affirmation of faith. Or should I say belief. Because what it becomes is actually learning how to believe the things you are supposed to believe but not the things that we don’t want you to believe.

But orthodoxy without orthopraxy, Amos and many other prophets would tell us, is worthless. You can get it all right, your doctrine, your church history, your liturgical devotion. You can get the degrees, read the books, follow the rules. But if that faithfulness to the letter of the law never leads to right action and compassion for our world, it is nothing.

Folks used to say that a person was so heavenly minded, they’re no earthly good. If we get all the doctrine right, but never see Jesus in the poor and the widow, never reach out a hand to offer support or care, then we have missed the point.

Wealth

The second piece I think we have to attend to is how we work with wealth. You might think I’m stretching here, but wealth and how we use it is deeply tied to faith and action.

We all know that we live in a time when the wealth gap continues to grow. We represent a broad swath of economic standings here in this congregation. But even all of us together, we hardly represent a drop in the bucket to the kind of wealth that our richest citizens hoard and grow. In times of economic flourishing, shouldn’t all people benefit? Shouldn’t “rising tides lift all boats?” Of course we know this is not what truly happens.

When we look for modern prophets, we should always pay attention to artists, musicians, poets. While I’m not really that familiar with Billie Ellish, the 23-year-old pop star, I did hear recently that she made some statements about wealth and billionaires. This week, she was discussing giving away some $11.5m for food insecurity and climate crisis needs. Here’s the quote — “Love you all, but there’s a few people in here that have a lot more money than me. If you’re a billionaire, why are you a billionaire? No hate, but yeat, give your money away, shorties.”

Give your money away, shorties. :)

How we use our financial resources is an act of worship. We can worship wealth and find ways to accumulate it. Nothing wrong with building capital and making good economic choices. If you can. But to accumulate without end in sight, well, isn’t that kinda like being a dragon, dwelling deep in a mountain upon piles of gold? Or Scrooge McDuck, swimming in his money bin? Both of those fictional characters are worshiping their assets.

The prophet’s call is that we should use what we have expand the cause of justice in our world. Billie Ellish is gonna probably stay pretty wealthy. But what she and other activists and philanthropists understand is that no one needs to hold that much wealth. Money, assets, capital — it should be used to lift others up, to seek justice, to care for the vulnerable.

We can see this in the other example of Jeff Bezos, of Amazon, and his ex-wife, MacKenzie Scott. In their divorce, Scott retained an immense amount of assets and has now turned to giving them away. A quick Google search tells me that she’s donated more than $19 billion, which barely makes a dent in her growing wealth due to the health of Amazon stock. Contrast that with Bezos, who is notoriously stingy with his riches.

The flood of justice here is what we might call a radical redistrubtion of wealth. And again, in reality, this isn’t something that even applies to us. I’m talking about the super-rich. But this lesson translates to us even still — we have to be wise and generous with how we steward the resources we have. As we work through this stewardship season, we need to take honest stock of whether we are living and giving out of a mindset of abundance, where we know that we have enough and make the choice to share. Or are we working from this stance of scarcity, where we hoard and protect against the world, the poor, the hurting, our siblings in Jesus Christ?

Position

A third example of how I see this playing out for us is around the notion of Position or Privilege. I want to go back to the context of worship. In the temple, priests would oversee the worship and provide the structure. Much like what I do here. It’s my job, along with many of you, to order our worship and teach. I have been given authority and position in this congregation.

Now, we know position and authority can be incredibly useful, but also easily open to abuse or misuse. If we have position, do we lord it over others? Is it right for me to flex my theological muscles and show you I know more than you and I’m right? I have the titles of Reverend and Doctor in front of my name. Should I flaunt that? Or better yet, shouldn’t you all bow and genuflect before me, because I am in this position of authority?

Don’t get me wrong, authority and expertise are very valid expressions of how we lead and serve others. But it’s just that — are we servant leaders? Or are we lords?

I see the flood of justice here in how we who have authority learn how to give it away and share it with others. When the experts listen to the non-experts, when we learn from one another. Authority still matters. Someone needs to lead. But sadly so many times position and authority are twisted into dictatorship and obedience, often in the service of someone’s ego. The flood of justice is when we break down the structures that oppress and replace them with communities of mutual care, servant leadership, and collaboration.

We’re going to spend these next few weeks with other prophets. Isaiah, Jeremiah, Daniel, Ezekiel. All pointing to the coming Christ. All prophets critiquing the status quo, where these distortions reign. All prophets pointing out the the kind of kingship and leaders that Israel and Judah have…well, they are inadequate, they’re missing the point. They are walking in darkness, in need of a light.

The flood of justice, the roar of the lion — will we pursue these things, learn these ways? Will we be the people of generosity and abundance, justice and mercy? Will we break oppressive structures and liberate the hurting?

The one who is to come, the Christ, is the great liberator of the people. Our calling is to participate in that other way, that good way, following Jesus in both belief and action, orthodoxy and orthopraxy.

Are we all show?

Or are we servants of the Christ?