Amos 7:11-17, September 20, 2009

“Prophets challenge what everyone else assumes is true and right.”

Prophet stories

One of the surprising rediscoveries I’ve made as we study the minor prophets (the final twelve books in the Old Testament) this fall is that these people don’t just tell stories – they are stories.  The prophets themselves are individuals whose lives are a soup of success and failure, mixed with chopped up love lives and the spice of personality in a broth of human condition not that different from our own.

We began with Hosea.  I said he was my favorite, because his is a love story.  Linda and I began our own love story thirty years ago by choosing a verse from Hosea’s book as our “life verse” – “So let us know, let us press on to know the Lord….” (Hosea 6:3).  But his love story was not at all like ours.  Hosea was a wounded lover whose willingness to begin again and again reflected both the pain and passion of God’s own heart.

Then there was Jonah.  Jonah was my favorite last week because his book is one of the most intriguing short stories every written – running away from God, getting swallowed by a fish, praying a most unlikely prayer from the belly of the whale, finding a most unlikely response in Nineveh, and ultimately ending his autobiographical tale sulking and pouting that God is too nice.  There is no closure to his book except the closure that comes with his willingness to share vulnerably his failure, his struggle.

This week we come to Amos, and, yes, fickle prophet-admirer that I am, Amos is my favorite-du-jour.  Once again, it’s not so much what he says throughout the book – it’s his story.  Amos is a real guy from a real town with a real tough job to do.

A few moments ago we read the part of his book that gives us most of what we know about him.  Not all, but most.  We learn that he hails from the southern kingdom of Judah, which was much smaller (only two tribes) in comparison to the northern kingdom of Israel (10 tribes) where he preached his message.

We learn that the priest of Israel, Amaziah, told him to go back down south where he belongs.  “Get out!” he says.

Amos responds with some insights into his story.  “I’m no prophet.  My father was not a prophet.  I never went to prophet-school.  I’m a shepherd and a tree-farmer.  God took me from where I was and sent me here.  I really don’t have a choice to do as you say and leave.”

Early in the week one of our Bible study groups had a discussion about this encounter.  Why did Amaziah (and King Jereboam) feel so threatened by Amos?  It sort of sounds like a David-and-Goliath story, shepherd boy vs. mighty man, underdog.

I learned more as the week went on.  Amos also describes himself as a shepherd in the opening of the book (1:1), but the word he uses there is a Hebrew word that means something more like “rancher” or “sheep-breeder.”  The same word is used in 2 Kings 3:4 of the king of Moab, and the text says that he supplied the king of Israel with 100,000 lambs each year, presumably for sacrifices, and also had to pay wool from 100,000 rams.

Amos also says he tends sycamore fig-trees, but those trees didn’t grow in Amos’ home town of Tekoa.  They grew only in warmer areas along the coast of the Dead Sea and the Mediterranean.

So the picture that emerges behind the story of Amos is that of “a rather wealthy land owner, who traveled frequently to carry on his business of producing and selling two popular products” (Minor Prophets I, Elizabeth Achtemeier, 174). 

We do not have an southern, anonymous, shepherd boy from Granite Falls preaching in the streets of Washington, D.C.  Amos is more like Ted Turner, a tycoon with money and connections and notoriety.  He is the prophet Amos. When he shows up, kings listen.

Uncomfortable words

As for his message, Amos does what prophets do.  Forget about prophets foretelling the future.  Occasionally they do so, but it’s a sub-category of their primary mission.

Prophets confront.  They say what is uncomfortable.  They say what is unpopular.  They say what no one else is saying.  If they mimic the party line they are, by definition, not prophets.

Here’s how that works for Amos.  He prophesies during the reign of Jereboam II, king of Israel in the eighth century B.C..  We know two things about Jereboam’s reign from II Kings 12 and the book of Amos.  First, he was an evil king, and the people followed him.  Second, Israel was in good shape during his reign – peace, prosperity, expansion of the borders.  They were even a very “spiritual” people, faithfully attending to their services and sacrifices.

Amos’ role is to confront evil during a time of prosperity among people who think of themselves as godly.  Think about that for a moment.  That’s a tough job.  Whether or not you buy intellectually into the “prosperity gospel,” in good times you tend not to question your actions – especially as a believer. 

If you get a raise and you believe in God, what do you say?  “Thank you, God.  You are looking out for me.”

If you are a Christian and your business prospers, what do you say?  “The Lord is really blessing me.”

If a football team is winning all its games, what do you say?  “They must be doing something right.”

If a church is growing, what do you say?  “God has his hand on them.”

Who in their right mind asks during a time of prosperity, “What are we doing wrong?”

A prophet does.  Amos does.  Because that’s what prophets do.

Amos goes straight to the urban, religious stronghold of the North and has this to say about their prosperity and piety –

Your women are lazy, fat cows who care for nothing but themselves.  They crush the poor, pamper themselves, and shout to their husbands, “Bring me another drink!” (4:1-2)

Stop fooling around at your shrines and altars.  You think you’ve done your religious duty there – but God isn’t there and he’s not impressed.  Go looking for him. (5:5-6)

You love leisure, gourmet food, music, wine, sex, and perfume.  Here is what you don’t love: compassion, generosity, fairness, goodness, and service.  You are going down, fast.  (6:4-14)

Why is the challenge of the prophet so great?  It’s not only because he’s confronting their lifestyle.  It’s not only because his message is uncomfortable.  It’s not only because he’s accusing them of hypocrisy.

It’s because he is assaulting their shared and deeply imbedded value system.  He’s not challenging the exception to the rule – the criminal, the lone ranger crook everyone hates and wants to see go down.  He is challenging what everyone else assumes is true and right.  “Everybody I know lives this way.  Everyone thinks this way.  This is how we are, and it’s been this way for as long as anyone can remember.  It’s working for us – not for me, but for all of us.”

The prophet steps in to say, “What’s working for you is wrong in the eyes of God.”  At that moment, the prophet is very vulnerable.  He stands against the world. 

Nobody likes being a prophet.  I shouldn’t say that.  Some people apparently do.    I don’t like being a prophet.  I’m not a prophet.  I’m a pastor.  I’m a shepherd.  My primary job is to feed, protect, guide, comfort, and strengthen. 

Why church

This weekend’s theme at the All Church Retreat was on serving.  The church of today needs a prophetic word on serving.  Our church needs a prophetic word about serving. By “prophetic word” I mean that we need to hear something that will challenge some broadly held assumptions about what it means to serve. 

I realized the extent to which this is a broadly held assumption when I was listening to a very popular preacher on the Christian radio station coming in to church earlier this week.  If I said his name, anyone who listens to WMIT would know it.  I hasten to add he says a lot of good stuff. 

I don’t mean to criticize his whole ministry, and it’s even possible his words were taken out of context.  If so, I can’t take responsibility for that, because what I heard was distributed by his ministry out of context. 

Maybe I didn’t get the quote exactly right.  I tried to find the audio clip online, and it wasn’t available.  But here’s what I remember of it:  “If you are not serving in an area of your passion, the best thing you can do for your church is to call up today and resign.”

Most church-going Christians would hear a statement like that and never question it.  In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if not a few people took him up on his advice. 

It made me mad.  I wanted to shout back at the radio, “Are you kidding me?  Did I really just hear that?  Here’s a guy respected for his knowledge and teaching of the Bible, but I’d really love to sit down with him face to face and say (humbly, I’m sure), where exactly in the Bible did you find that?” 

Here are a few other broadly accepted ideas about church in today’s “Christian America” that need to be challenged by prophets –

o   “Find out where God is working and invest your service there.”

o    “If this isn’t the church where you feel most comfortable, try another one.  We just want you to feel at home.”

o   “If this isn’t the Sunday School class where you are being fed, find another one.  What matters most is discovering which class fits you best.”

o   “If you don’t take care of yourself first, you won’t be able to take care of others.”

o   “God wants you to be happy.”

o   “Don’t let people take advantage of you.”

Here’s what all those statements have in common.  Church is a tool God uses to enhance your self-fulfillment.  We are all about you here.  You live such a busy, harrowed, victimized life, and we’re here to take your side and make life easier.  We’re here because in at least one place where you go, you should have fun, enjoy yourself, be carefree, and be affirmed. 

We live in a competitive world, and churches are not exempt.  If people don’t like it here – if we don’t meet their spiritual needs, they will go elsewhere.  Some of why we do what we do, if we’re honest, is because of that fact.  But there’s another angle as well.  If we as a church genuinely love people and want to draw them to Christ and his church, then we want to meet them where they are.  We want to serve them.

Whatever the motivation, churches of today do project to members and visitors, “We’re about you.”  Churches that are most successful in meeting the needs of the “church consumer” tend to be the ones that grow.

Now think about how that consumer mindset affects how we serve in the church and through the church in the world.  What happens is that we convey the idea that we don’t want you to serve unless you really like it, unless you’re fulfilled by it.  Serving shouldn’t take anything out of you – you should only do what you love to do, what you’re gifted in doing, what you have fun doing, what you can do with passion.

Since when did we decide that the primary purpose of the church is to make people feel comfortable?  To ask no sacrifice or submission or service?  Since when did we decide we should only ask people to serve by doing what they like to do best?  Who’s going to do the stuff nobody likes to do?

If you think I enjoyed that little diatribe, you don’t know me very well.  As I said, I have a pastor’s heart, not a prophet’s will. 

A servant’s heart

Here is the prophet’s question for today:  “What does it mean to be a servant?”

The word “servant” in various forms (serve, serving, service, etc.) is used 1093 times in the Bible, and not one means “a person who follows his passion.”  To serve is to be at the bidding of another.  Here are the words used in the original languages –

o   Hebrew ‘ebed – slave, subject – one does the will of another

o   Hebrew sharath – servant, waiter, minister, priest

o   Greek doulos – slave, one who gives up control of self and submits or obeys

o   Greek diakonos – domestic, cook, waiter, deacon

Biblically, service starts with the premise, “I’m not in charge.  It’s not about me.  It’s not about what I like.  It’s not about what fulfills me.”  The picture of a servant in the Bible is never “one who serves in his or her area of passion.” 

A servant asks only two questions:  “What needs to be done?” and “What will please the Master?” 

Take one of those English synonyms: “waiter.”  Why do we call that person a waiter or waitress?  Because his or her schedule is secondary to the one being served.  The waiter is willing to wait.

  I told the folks up at the retreat.  Being a servant adds nothing to your “to do list.”  Being a servant is not about thinking, “I’ve already got twelve hours of stuff I need to do in the next four.  And now you want me to carve out some extra time for service on top of all that?”

No, I don’t.  Being a servant is about your heart.  Paul says, “Have this attitude in you that was also in Christ Jesus…who took the form of a servant” (Philippians 2:5,7).  Whatever you do for others – for your family, at work or school, here at church – do it with a servant’s heart.

If we can transform a “consumer culture” in the church to a “servant culture,” everything that needs to get done will get done.

I am sure the businessman Amos had a lot on his “to do” list to manage huge flocks of sheep and large tree farms.  I would suspect that was his passion – not being a prophet.  But when God said, “Amos, I want you to preach,” he said, “I am your servant.”  He did what prophets do – he confronted the sins of injustice, or laziness, of enjoying luxury and leisure while ignoring the cries of the poor.

Amos couches that challenge in “service” language.  “Woe to those who live in luxury and expect everyone else to serve them!  Woe to those who live only for today, indifferent to the fate of others!”  (Amos 6:4, The Message)

Is that same prophetic word needed today?  It may well be, and you have heard it. 

But the prophetic word God called me to bring today has a different twist.  In all of your attempts to serve, have you bought into the idea that you should only do what fulfills you – that even church is something you only choose and continue if it makes you feel good?  If someone thanks or rewards you?  If it’s what you enjoy?  If it’s a stepping stone to greater authority and influence?

Or have you developed a servant’s heart?  What needs to be done?  What will please my Master?

Amen.