Serious Faith?

Amos 5:18-24

Rev. Dr. Mary Alice Mulligan

We don’t often hear a sermon from Amos, partly because the prophet reports some very harsh words from God. The big question is, “Are we serious about living our faith?” Or we might say – Do we have Serious Faith?

Amos may have been one of the earliest of the First Testament prophets, perhaps the 8th century BCE. There are added later edits, however, which may have been attempts to moderate God’s wrath. Here’s a little background on the book. Remember the Hebrew people divided into Israel (the Northern Kingdom) and Judah (the Southern Kingdom, which included Jerusalem). Amos was from Judah, but for some reason felt sent to prophesy to Israel. He seems to have been a migrant worker (he refers to himself as a herder and someone who tends sycamore trees), which means he is not wealthy. So Amos understands why God expresses wrath against those who oppress the poor. In Israel at that time, the ones we would call the upper class are living the high life. All is going smashingly. They expect God will continue to bless them with comfortable lives and if any threats come from neighboring peoples, God will protect them. That’s what they mean by the Day of the Lord. In the face of threats, God will make sure Israel is victorious. Although parts of today’s passage are rough, we love the final verses which give rise to the photo on the bulletin cover. A flood of righteousness. Listen for the word of God as you read Amos 5:18-24.  

Alas for you who desire the day of the Lord! Why do you want the day of the Lord? It is darkness, not light; as if someone fled from a lion, and was met by a bear; or went into the house and rested a hand against the wall, and was bitten by a snake. Is not the day of the Lord darkness, not light, and gloom with no brightness in it?

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 everflowing stream.

 

This is a difficult text because people love celebrations. Haven’t they always loved observing every festival? People crack open the decorations and set lights blazing at the first hint of a religious holiday. From ancient times with rituals for the longest day of the year, eclipses, and harvests; to modern rituals including baptisms, weddings, groundbreakings. Humans love to party. Prehistoric people in northern Europe constructed Stonehenge which perfectly aligns toward sunrise at the summer solstice and sunset at the winter solstice. Pretty sure they had a religious celebration of light.

During Amos’ time, the people of Israel and Judah celebrated God’s blessings of the harvest with an Autumn Festival. In Jerusalem, amidst all the other festivities, the highpoint was at dawn of the day of the Equinox. The earliest sunlight shone through the eastern gate of the Temple into the innermost sanctuary (the holy of holies).

The 21st century is pretty similar. People have already begun stringing the Christmas lights. They seem convinced the more lights on the tree the better – oh, and on the palm trees, and floodlights on their house. But of course, it isn’t just Christmas. Hannukah is a religious Festival of Lights too, commemorating when the holy lamp burned for eight days with one day’s amount of oil. A regular menorah has seven candles, but the Hannukah menorah has eight. Then Kwanzaa starts, with more light and festivities. Seven candles for the seven sacred principles to be celebrated. And today (Sunday) in India, millions are celebrating Diwali, the Hindu festival of Lights. But it isn’t just lights. Human religious festivals all over the world have light, but they also have elaborate decorations, often special dress, a variety of traditional dishes, specific music, sometimes particular ritual texts are read, and children often have specific parts to play. Worship during these celebrations can be in a religious building, outside, or in a home.

St. Andrew has celebrations, too. Traditional rituals were prescribed for All Saints Sunday last week, and more are coming: Thanksgiving Sunday, the Reign of Christ, the four Sundays of Advent, and Christmas Eve. People love to gather for religious celebrations.

But sometimes God does not love celebrations. In fact, Amos quotes God’s saying, “I hate, I despise your festivals.” No matter how many lights you string across the sanctuary, when you gather for worship, Amos says, God is not pleased. The celebration will not bring glorious light. God says there will be darkness; gloom with no relief in it. Instead of the brightness of the dawn’s first light striking the innermost worship sanctuary, the Day of the LORD will bring only an inability to see because there will be no sunrise. The expectations of joyous celebrations are dashed; the atmosphere is one of mourning.

For most religious people, worship is an important part of living your faith. Observing holy days with worship are usually attempts to communicate reverence toward God. Praise is offered to please God, to let God know your commitment. But Amos reports God is not pleased by your worship if showing up for the ritual is all you are doing. How many Christians do you think attend worship a few times a month, assuming that is all that is needed to please God? They probably put money in the plate, perhaps a significant amount of money. But money in the plate in the 21st century is like offerings of grain and fatted animals in the first century, which Amos says God rejects. Amos also says, God ignores your hymns and musical offerings. They are just meaningless noise. God’s response is brutal criticism, because your faith must be more than showing up for religious rituals. If your whole commitment to God is just about worship meetings, as important as they might be, God is not pleased. Amos paints a vivid picture of divine wrath. If worship attendance is all there is, God is not impressed. In fact, God loathes such celebrations.

            Because pleasing God requires justice. Making the world more just is what God expects of God’s people. Let’s think about justice. The typical image is a woman, blindfolded, holding a set of scales. A static image indicating justice is to be balanced, weighing what is right without paying attention to what person benefits from the judgement. But such an image is absolutely not the image Amos receives from God. Amos shows justice as a river which never runs dry. Justice is active, moving things out of the way as it gushes along. “The imagery of water,” one scholar notes, “suggests that justice is [also] a life-giving force.”[1] As water surges, it displays power and dynamism. Like the photo on the front of the bulletin, justice is powerful enough to change the landscape as it moves, carving out rocks and knocking stuff out of its way.

Justice and righteousness are essential parts of our faith. If we are going to be serious about our commitment to God, then we have to be involved in righteousness and justice. But what does that mean? When we act out of righteousness, we pay attention to how our actions affect others in our community for their good. Since we are all interrelated, all interconnected, our actions matter in the lives of others. Righteous actions stem from consideration of others, from generosity, from the selfless kindness we learn from God’s actions and attitude toward us. One commentator asserted “justice is the fruit of righteousness;”[2] In other words, when people act from righteousness, justice ensues; change happens for the good.

When we listen to God’s admonition to let justice roll down like waters, many of us can almost hear Martin Luther King Jr. repeating those words, but his voice is not gentle. Rather like a surging waterfall, he quotes God’s call. “But let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.” If we are serious about our faith, we boldly live out of righteousness, trusting the strength of divine compassion to move within us, helping us pay attention to our interconnections, and putting our own self-interests aside to assist the flourishing of life in others. And amazingly, we discover the fruit of righteousness is justice. God does not care about our worship, that is until justice and righteousness are active among us. But when righteousness is flowing like a constant stream and justice rolls down like surging water, then our worship pleases God. Then our faith is serious. Because when justice and righteousness are necessary precursors to our worship, then God is pleased. Then our faith is serious.


[1] Christina Bucher, The Prophecy of Amos and Hosea (Covenant Bible Studies. Brethren Press, 1997), 8.

[2] John Holbert, “Exegetical Perspective” Proper 27,  271.

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