Doing Good Worship: Amos 5:18-24 - 23rd Sunday after Pentecost

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 ever-flowing stream. (NRSV)

IMG_3634 by Cindee Snider Re on Flickr. CC BY-NC 2.0

If you watched Saturday Night Live in the early 00’s, you probably remember Debbie Downer—the character whose negativity and pessimism always spoiled people’s fun.
 

 

I wonder if the prophet Amos had a similar reputation—because he spoke harsh and disturbing warnings at a time when the Northern Kingdom of divided Israel was at its all-time high.

 

They had just scored a major victory against the Assyrian Empire, their greatest foe—and recaptured a significant portion of land in the process. Everyone was feeling strong, secure, and prosperous. Worship had become especially blissful. There was feasting and great music, offerings were pouring in, spirits were high, everyone wanted to be part of it. They were certain that “the day of the Lord” was just around the corner, when God would stomp out Assyria for good, and they would live happily ever after.

 

Then along comes Amos—declaring that God despises their festivals and assemblies; their offerings are insulting; their music nothing but intolerable noise. Why?

 

It’s hard to imagine that God would be displeased with people who were passionately worshiping him! But God makes it crystal clear that it all means nothing when those same people are either ignoring the suffering of their neighbors or even causing the suffering of their neighbors. God warns them that the Day of the Lord will not be a day of victory—but a day of judgment and defeat.

 

Amos paints a real harsh and disturbing picture of God—and yet, a loving God is not going to sit in silence while God’s own people sow the seeds of their own destruction—while taking the poor and vulnerable down with them. Echoing in the words of the prophet is God’s unwavering compassion and concern for the least and the lost. Worship isn’t just for the fortunate few. How can you experience God’s love if you’re hungry? If you have no share in the gifts God gives? How do you know that God cares about you if people don’t care about you? How can you know that you are a child of God if people reject you?

 

I don’t imagine that Amos took pleasure in bursting the people’s bubble—but the bubble needed to be burst. The God they worshiped was not the God who is. Worship is not about feeling good, but doing good. Without love, compassion, and justice, you aren’t worshiping God. You’re pushing God away. But when God’s love is real and genuine among people; when human needs are met and human dignity is affirmed; when passion for worship is equaled by passion for justice, God is surely near—and then, you can worship—even if peace and prosperity are lacking.

 

Just consider what’s happening right now—you have half the country celebrating victory; the other side is mourning defeat. One side sees the future with optimism; the other with despair. And the dividing line goes extends right into the Body of Christ, because we didn’t all vote the same. Many signs point to the pandemic worsening beyond what we experienced last winter.

 

And yet, the bitterness, the selfishness, the fear, and the pain stop at the foot of the cross. Here with us, the Body of Christ, God turns the tide. We enter these walls broken; we leave forgiven and restored. We leave here empowered to make God’s love real in the world. To mend divisions. To feed the hungry. To care for the lonely and forgotten. That show the world that real hope does not depend on who’s in the White House. To win victories over evil not through brute force, but through love, gentleness, and justice.

 

Humans, in our natural state, are incapable of such Godly living. But this is why God’s judgment is actually a good thing. Whether it’s pride puffing me up or fear breaking me down, I need God to put sin to death in me in order that new life may emerge. Behind the harshness of God’s words is an urgency to stop sin and death from destroying people—as well as an eagerness to reconcile, restore, and redeem.

 

Here’s the challenge—when you pray the confession of sins, do you dare to invite God’s judgment into your life? For God to lay bare the sinful desires and sinful ways that keep divine life from flourishing in you? For God to expose the way your habits and lifestyles deny justice to your neighbor? For God to discipline you into a stronger, more vibrant faith; driving you out of yourself to encounter him in the neighbor? For God to turn you upside-down, and inside-out, if that’s what it takes for God’s love to be complete in you?

 

True worship isn’t about good feelings or celebrating because everything’s going your way. Worship is about being in the presence of God—and there is no denying God’s presence when you are worshiping in the company of those who love, care, and serve like Jesus does. Worship happens when God acts both in you and through you, so that God’s love becomes real—and the worship continues as we work together, as we serve together, as we do good together—moving ever closer to the glorious future God has in store.