Amos 5:18-24
When I was 22, I worked my third and final summer at a Lutheran Bible Camp in Wisconsin. That final summer, I served as assistant program director of a small camp that reached out to kids living in Milwaukee, most of them unfamiliar with church, camp, and nature. As the assistant program director, I was, among other things, responsible for discipline. You may remember me telling you the story of one 10 year old boy who, scared about camp and wanting to go home, began running home, down the long camp driveway to the wind-ey country road at the end of it, the boy who sat with me on the edge of the basketball court, who sat with me on the edge of field where we played tag, who sat with me even in the canteen while I restocked and ordered candy bars and chips because I couldn’t let him out of my sight—or out of the reach of my arm. Left to his own devices, he called the other kids names, punched them, tripped them, and generally wreaked havoc. I was, for all intents and purposes, the assistant principal of camp. Bully and hurt other campers around me, and you are destined to a week of sitting out every fun game and activity. It’s not that I disliked the kids who picked fights. Actually, I consistently root for the underdog, and the kid who spent most of his week sitting within the reach of my arm, he and I bonded over having nothing to do. Eventually, he started talking to me, and I remember him fondly. But quite obviously, him punching and tripping other campers just wasn’t cool.
In trying to decipher the good news from the prophet Amos’ words to the errant nations of Israel and Judah, I thought of my summer at camp, disciplining the kids who hurt others, bullied others, picked fights with others. In the Old Testament, the phrase “the day of the Lord” moves from simply denoting the Sabbath day to naming the day when God would deliver the Israelites from their enemies. From the Israelites’ perspective, the day of the Lord is a glorious day, a day of rest and worship, a day of God’s care and protection, respectively. By the time of Amos, the prophet whose words we read this morning, “the day of the Lord” no longer refers to the Sabbath or the day of freedom from enemies. Instead, “the day of the Lord” refers to the day of God’s judgment and wrath, a day of justice, the day of God’s kingdom come. And unfortunately, Judah and Israel, the now split kingdom of Israel (politics, we know how it goes), unfortunately, Judah and Israel are on the wrong side of justice. Instead of caring for those living in poverty, instead of taking in orphans and widows, instead of welcoming the stranger and alien as our scripture decrees and defines justice, care of the most vulnerable, the people of Israel and Judah spend their time lounging on beds of ivory and anointing themselves with the finest oils, Amos tells us a chapter later. Instead of their worship and music and rituals leading them to love God and their neighbor, these acts of worship and music and ritual become ends in and of themselves without heart and mind engaged. To these loungers and anointers, worshipers without heart, God hands down truly frightening discipline, a day of the Lord on which someone fleeing from a lion would meet a bear, not literally, of course, but poetically speaking. A day of the Lord during which justice would roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream. For those on the wrong side of justice, for those spiritually idling, the day of the Lord doesn’t sound like good news.
Yet, the day of the Lord is the day of God’s kingdom come, and don’t we pray for that day? Every Sunday, perhaps even more frequently, we bow our heads, fold our hands, and pray the Lord’s Prayer: May your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as in heaven. We pray for the day of the Lord to come! Why?
God sees us, every one of us beloved. God sees our broken world, our indifferent hearts. God sees us hurting one another, failing to care for the most vulnerable, ignoring systems that wound some more than others. And like an assistant program director who stops the kid from punching and tripping other campers ‘cause it’s just not cool, God arrives on the day of the Lord to stop the violence, to restrain those doing the hurting, to make sure everybody is safe and gets loved because those getting hurt are loved as deeply as those doing the hurting. While the day of the Lord smarts for those who perpetrate injustice, for those who have been hurt, again and again, the day of the Lord is like sunshine after years of rain. The day of the Lord brings justice: fairness, an end to oppression, tending to the needs of those marginalized, and the day of the Lord bring righteousness: healthy relationships, strong community, respect. Justice and righteousness come not in a slow trickle but like a deluge. Justice and righteousness come like a deluge because every single person hurt by human sin is dearly loved in the sight of God.
The ancient people of Judah and Israel did not know when the day of the Lord would come. But about seven hundred years later, Jesus would proclaim: The kingdom of heaven has come near! The kingdom came in Jesus, not in its fullness, but he paved the way for God’s kingdom come on earth. In dribs and drabs, we walk the way of God’s kingdom. In dribs and drabs, we work for justice. In dribs and drabs, we build strong community. This kingdom comes among us as we follow the call of the Spirit, as we get on board with what God is already doing among us.
The question of the day is: When have you seen God’s justice or righteousness rain down in our world? To read our community’s reflection, go to the Facebook live feed of the worship on Sunday, November 8, 2020.
I have seen God’s justice rain down in a really mundane way through the advent of social security. At the time the Social Security Administration was created, many older adults lived in poverty. A person might have worked hard their whole life but not been able to save money. Maybe their company didn’t offer a pension. Social Security has, in a really mundane way, provided dignity and basic necessities for millions of older adults, some of the most vulnerable people in our society simply because of inevitable medical concerns as people get older.
In dribs and drabs, the Spirit of God works among us until the day when, like a deluge, the day of the Lord will arrive with justice and righteousness. A day when all injustice will end. A day when the sun will shine. A day of gloom for those who perpetrate injustice, yes. But the good news, the good news of God’s kingdom come is that, whatever God does, God always does for love. Thanks be to God! Amen.