Thank God for Amos!

 

Sermon. 13 July 2025. Saham Toney. Trinity 4 (Year C)

(Old Testament readings from Continuous Track)

Amos 7.7-17

Luke 10:25-37

 

Amos.

 

Amos. I have said the word, and the roof hasn’t fallen in, and we haven’t fallen out. So I’ll say the word again:

 

Amos!

 

If there is anyone who doesn’t know, “Amos” was one the options for the name of our benefice, our benefice of Ashill, Merton, Ovington, and Saham Toney churches. A.M.O.S. It was not to be. The bishop said no. That battle is over. I had no part in the discussion or the decision. It predates me. But it’s not a secret that some would still like us to be “AMOS”. And so controversy attaches to the very name.

 

Actually, controversy attaches to this morning’s reading from Amos in another way. “Controversy” is a bit strong. I mean: a decision was made which can fairly be questioned. What do I mean? I need to go back a stage.

 

Our readings come from a set cycle which is actually ecumenical, shared with many others, most notably with our Roman Catholic sisters and brothers. It is called the “Revised Common Lectionary”. But! But every now and then the Church of England allows itself to deviate from that common, ecumenical cycle of readings. And one such time is actually the whole of this long season of Green that we are now well into. The season after Trinity, sometimes called “Ordinary Time”. When it comes to this season, there are two tracks of readings from the Old Testament. And we Church of England people are supposed to choose between one track or the other. (You’re not supposed to keep switching, week by week.) One track is called “Related”. And “Related” means related… to the Gospel. Yes, like on other Sundays of the year, the Old Testament reading anticipates, or echoes, or augments, or helps us reflect on one theme in the Gospel of the day. But the Church of England allows itself a whole other track of readings. And that is called… “Continuous”. The idea is that we let the Gospel stand on its own, and we work our way through some books of the Old Testament “continuously”. Except of course we do no such thing. The Old Testament – at least four times as long as the New – is just too big for that. So what we do is work our way through some “edited highlights” of some Old Testament books. 

 

Is the Church of England right to let us go our own way, differing from other churches, in this way? It is, as I have intimated, controversial – at least in those circles where these things are discussed. I won’t hide my own view from you. I think the case for it is weak. So it’s the sort of thing we might do every now and again (every year and again!), but not normally. But, hey, here we are! We are doing it this year. So a note to all those who prepare for worship here (whether as leaders or just as interested people), in these Green Sundays, this year, don’t go looking for a deliberate link between the Old Testament and the Gospel. There may be links, but they are coincidental, not intended.    

 

I can see that you are finding this discussion a detail of the shape of our readings scintillating! Or just maybe not. So let me cut to the chase. Let me give you a very clear, very practical message. This sermon is going to give you something to do (something I’ll do only rarely). My suggestion is this. In the week ahead – maybe in the heat of the day, when you have your curtains and blinds drawn, or maybe in an evening, when you can sit in your garden in the cool of the day - read through the Book of Amos. It’s not that onerous. It’s called a “Book” by convention only. Amos is a mere nine chapters. It’s as little as six pages, or thereabouts. So: read Amos.

 

Here’s some context. Amos arose in the middle of the 8^th century before Christ. So around 750 BC. In today’s reading we get to know his background. He was a cattle-herder and a sycamore-tree-dresser. (I’m still not quite sure how you dress sycamore trees, and to be fair, nobody is.*) He was from Judah, the Southern Kingdom, and felt compelled to go to Israel, the Northern Kingdom, and speak words from Gd, words of judgment, of sharp, sharpest criticism. So he wasn’t a prophet by profession. He was a farmer first. And when he says he wasn’t a prophet’s son, he isn’t really telling us anything about his father. He is saying he is not one of the “Sons of the Prophets”, which really means be didn’t belong to a “Guild of the Prophets”. He wasn’t a civil servant who got paid by the king to speak holy words or encouraging words or esoteric words, to order. He was a man on a mission, his own unique mission. He is also, by the way, the first prophet to write down his words, in beautiful Hebrew poetry.  

 

It happens that Amos is one of my heroes. That the Book of Amos is in the Bible is one of the things that gives me hope. It is one of the fascinations of the Bible. It is proof that the Bible was not a book put together by religious people for the edification of other religious people. It’s much, much stranger than that.

 

What is it about Amos that so draws me? It’s that he condemns religious people in the strongest terms. Hear this from chapter five. Gd says:

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. [5.21-23; cf. 4.4-5]

 

And the objection is not to idolatry. There are two – just maybe three – references to idolatry in Amos [2.4??; 5.26; 8.14]. But these are hugely outweighed by other references. So the worship that Gd hates is actually worship of Gd, of Gd named aright, of Gd of the covenant. Israel is worshipping the Gd of Israel… and Gd of Israel hates it! What is going on? Amos is clear that the people are combining worship that is right in its form with mistreatment of the poor among them, a mistreatment that is nothing short of cruelty. Here’s how he puts it, back in chapter two: '[you] trample the head of the poor into the dust of the earth, and push the afflicted out of the way'. Strong stuff.

 

To be clear about two things. Gd’s harsh criticism of Gd’s people in Amos’ mouth is not that they combine worship with sin. We all combine worship with sin. That is our human condition, in this life. This is why seeking forgiveness is so central to our worship. The forgiveness of our sins both enables worship and is a large part of the content of our worship, and thank Gd for that. Amos’ criticism is so dramatic because they are so lost in their sins that they cannot see them. They are lost in their comforts, and their excesses, and truly have no sense of the price poor people are paying for their lifestyles. They combine worship that is right in form with utter smugness. And that – that Gd condemns.

 

We are not left in condemnation. We know what we have to do to avoid Gd’s condemnation: come carrying the needs of others in our hearts; come humbly, come indeed with compassion, the compassion of the good Samaritan, like Amos, another outsider who got things right.

 

To avoid any doubt, Amos was not named after the villages of Ashill, Merton, Ovington, and Saham Toney (sorry about that)! We don’t know the meaning of his name. It may well have something to do with burden, or weight, or load. So let me say again: we do come here carrying a certain kind of burden. Not of guilt. Not of shame. But the burden of authentically carrying the needs of others in our hearts. We come humbly. We come indeed with compassion. Compassion to meet Gd of compassion.

 

Amen.

* A member of the congregation did spend the afternoon reading Amos, and looking into what a dresser of sycamore trees might actually do. He says that he found out it really means figs. Discuss?