Scripture:
“The Lord Roars”
1 The words of Amos, who was among the shepherds of Tekoa—a town in the southern kingdom, called Judah—which he saw concerning Israel—that is, the northern kingdom, which split off from Judah when King Solomon died—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.
The prophetic book of Amos opens with a subtle reminder that the people of Israel are already torn asunder, divided into two kingdoms. Amos hails from the southern kingdom of Judah, but he has wandered north to deliver a prophecy to the renegade northern kingdom (known as Samaria or Israel). You might recall that earlier David had united the tribes of Israel and established the capital at Jerusalem. But it took only two generations for everything to fall apart. After his son Solomon died, the northern tribes revolted, complaining about the “heavy yoke” placed on them by King Solomon in his reign (cf. 1 Kings 12). If you’ll recall, Solomon’s reign was characterized by extravagance. He built a world-renowned temple for God as well as a palace for himself that was four times the size of that temple. To accomplish these feats, he employed forced labor and exacted heavy taxes. All of this to say, by the time Amos makes his prophecy, there are already many fractures among the people, originating in the increasing gap between the rich and the poor, the powerful and the helpless.
While the gap initially fractures the people into a north-south division, we see in Amos that the fractures multiply and run deep in both northern and southern kingdoms—although today the focus is on the north.
2 And he (Amos) 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.
Amos begins his prophecy in an ominous way: “The Lord roars”… (Amos 1:2). Just as in English, the word for “roar” (za’ag) evokes the thunderous growl of a predator, specifically lion. Amos follows up on this metaphor several times. In chapter 3, he asks a rhetorical question, “Does a lion roar in the forest, when it has no prey?” (Amos 3:4). In other words, God’s roar is no empty threat. This bark is followed by a substantial bite. Just verses later, he asks, “The lion has roared; who will not fear? The Lord God has spoken; who can but prophesy?” (Amos 3:8).
Why is God roaring like a lion? In a word, the haves are afflicting the have-nots. Some of this is outright corruption, like cheating the people who have no support, and some of this is just plain greed, accumulating more and more at the expense of those who have less and less. “They…trample the head of the poor into the dust of the earth,” Amos explains, “and push the afflicted out of the way” (Amos 2:7).
The culmination of Amos’ lion metaphor paints a gruesome end for the prosperous people of Israel. “Thus says the Lord,” Amos declares, “As the shepherd rescues from the mouth of the lion two legs, or a piece of an ear, so shall the people of Israel who live in Samaria be rescued, with the corner of a couch and part of a bed” (Amos 3:12). In one grisly analogy, Amos lays into the people’s greed and their exploitation of the poor, offering them a miserable consolation. If there is any rescue, it will be as vain as a shepherd rescuing a lamb’s leg from the lion’s mouth. The only remainder of their possessions will be the corner of a couch or the leg of a bed. The roaring lion will not miss his target.
Scripture:
“Hate Evil and Love Good…”
And yet…Amos does not prophesy doom indiscriminately. He holds out hope that those who follow in God’s way will receive God’s grace even amid the unavoidable devastation that is to come.
14 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.
15 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.
Last week, I was talking with Donna Lewis about our scripture, and she shared that one of these verses was among the first that she learned as a girl at church: “Hate evil and love good, and establish justice in the gate” (Amos 5:15). Who among us wouldn’t say, “Amen!” to that? Who among most people in our nation, in our world, even non-religious people, wouldn’t say, “Amen!” to that? “Hate evil and love good”—that’s about as basic a moral code as you can get. “Establish justice”—who doesn’t want justice?
The only problem is this: What’s evil? What’s good? What does justice look like? How many people do you know who would say, “Yeah, I prefer evil. That’s my team.”[1] The truth is, we all think “good” is whatever we are or aspire to. Everyone thinks they are, generally speaking, good and loving, while their opponents are evil and hateful. The most obvious division along these lines in our nation is Democrats and Republicans. Christians in both camps presume that the policies they espouse are an attempt at “hat[ing] evil and lov[ing] good and establish[ing] justice in the gate” (Amos 5:15).
I wonder, though, if both camps don’t presume a little too much. Jesus never envisioned the kingdom of God established by the sword of Caesar. He did not envision the kingdom of God being established by a kingdom of this world, which always relies on the force of its law, whether that force is backed by swords or guns. Rather, he talks about the kingdom of God as a seed that grows through the provision of incalculable grace; as a gift that is received with childlike trust; as a treasure that is perceived as already being in our midst. In other words, the goodness of God—the kingdom of God—is not achieved by force but only ever received with wonder. The kingdom of God is not about policies that require swords or guns to back them up; the kingdom of God does not come about by the weapons of Satan, the Thief and Destroyer. The kingdom of God does not come about by our control but by God’s care.
All of this to say, when we hear Amos’ call to “hate evil and love good,” it may be helpful to hear not a stump speech but rather an invitation to live differently than the groups that make stump speeches, the groups that play according to the rules of the world, resorting to the weapons of Satan. It may be helpful to hear an invitation to live in the kingdom of Christ, whose justice looks very different from the judgments of our world.
Scripture:
Living Water
21 I hate, I despise your festivals,
and
I take no delight in your solemn assemblies.
22 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.
23 Take
away from me the noise of your songs;
I
will not listen to the melody of your harps.
24 But
let justice roll down like waters,
and
righteousness like an everflowing stream.
When my brother started seminary down in Waco, Texas, he served as a student minister at a local church. One of the deacons offered to give him a tour of the town to get him more acquainted with the community. He drove him through some of the lower-income neighborhoods, pointing out where some of the students lived side-by-side with others who had never had much to begin with. Then they moved to the other part of town. As the deacon drove slowly down a road lined with stately houses and perfectly manicured gardens, he remarked in his brusque, Texan manner: “This here’s the richest street in town.” After a pause, he added: “And also the saddest.” Nearly every house on the street had an unhappy story: domestic violence, alcoholism, drugs, infidelity, and suicide. No doubt many of these residents attended their local church. That’s just what you do in Waco, Texas, especially when you’re a prominent member of society. But apparently no amount of piety could reverse the destructive patterns of these lives.
This final portion of today’s scripture contains Amos’ most famous line: “But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an everflowing stream” (Amos 5:24). Because so much of Amos is a thunderous critique of the wealthy elite in Israel who care more about their income than they do about their neighbor, I have in the past interpreted this image of justice-carrying waters to be something equally thunderous, like a roaring waterfall. I have envisioned a cataclysmic event, like a flood. But when I pay closer attention to Amos’ image, I realize his vision of justice is not thunderous at all. The consequences of Israel’s destructive behavior are calamitous, for sure, and Amos spends much of his time describing those. But his description of justice is rolling water and an everflowing stream. Which is precisely in keeping with a prominent Old Testament metaphor, namely that living with God is like being planted near a stream of water. “They shall be like a tree planted by water,” the prophet Jeremiah says of those who trust in the Lord, “sending out its roots by the stream. It shall not fear when heat comes, and its leaves shall stay green; in the year of drought it is not anxious, and it does not cease to bear fruit” (Jer 17:18).
In this context, I hear Amos’ cry for justice less as a thunderous call for consequences—those will be coming, like it or not—and more as a plea for the people to return to the source of life. If that street in Waco, Texas has anything to say, it’s that the wealthy elite, the oppressive “haves,” are not only making life worse for the “have-nots” but for themselves too. It’s like they’re thirsty but they’re drinking salt water! And so Amos cries, “Let the fresh, living water of God flow here again.”
I’m reminded of Jesus, who says, “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me,” and then moments later, “‘Out of [the heart of the one who trusts in me] shall flow rivers of living water” (John 7:37-38). What quenches our thirst in Jesus becomes what quenches the thirst of the world. The justice we find in Jesus becomes the justice we share with the world. And the scandal of Jesus is that justice looks so different from what we’ve come to expect. The Jewish and Roman authorities wouldn’t have had a problem with Jesus if he had just preached following the law and being a good citizen. The problem was Jesus preaches things like forgiveness for enemies. (Spoiler: We can’t win a fight, much less a war, when we’re forgiving our enemies.) The problem was Jesus preaches things like gentleness and humility. (Spoiler: We’re not going to climb that ladder or get ahead of others if we’re moving with tender care for all of those around you.) The problem was Jesus preaches things like giving what we have to meet the needs of others and living simply ourselves, trusting in God’s daily bread. (Spoiler: We’re not going to have the security of a surplus if we’re living simply and generously.) All these things that Jesus preaches are problems for the world, and yet he proclaims that they are God’s kingdom, God’s justice, a world in which all are cared for. A world in which every thirst is quenched.
“Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an everflowing stream,” Amos cries. And then in living color, Jesus shows us just what this looks like.
Prayer
Whose love is living water
To our thirsty souls—
While the world around us
Strives for more control over others,
We seek instead your kingdom,
Where care is shown for everyone.
…
Teach us what is good and just
Through the example of Christ,
That we might give flesh
To your holy difference.
In Christ, our lord and savior: Amen.
[1] There may be a few eccentrics out
there who say this, but even they have a reason for saying this. That is, they
have a rationale that justifies their decisions, which in a roundabout way
makes them “right” and “good” in their own eyes.
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