Shining the Lamp on Holy Anger

“Shining the Lamp on Holy Anger”

Good Shepherd Lutheran Church (North Quincy, Massachusetts)

Year A, Twenty Third Sunday after Pentecost, Matthew 25:1-13 and Amos 5:18-24

Sam Melton, MDiv ‘19

So, I must admit this morning, that I’m tired. I’m exhausted actually, it’s been a long year and as the weather is getting colder, I want nothing more than to snuggle under a warm blanket by the fireplace with my dog and a hot cup of tea. I’m tired from all that seems to be bombarding me everyday from all directions - the news, social media, friends, family- and a to-do list that never seems to get shorter. And I get the feeling that I’m not the only one that has been feeling this way lately. If we name the number of tragic events taking place around us each week, it’s no surprise to recognize the array of emotions sitting in this room today. Even if we name just one of these tragic events, the mass shooting that took place in Texas a week ago, I wonder what emotions are coming up for you?

Maybe anger, sadness, exhaustion, indifference, confusion, anxiety, or fear, to name a few. Once we land on a couple of feelings to name our emotions, I wonder how we can bring these emotions and our real, experienced, human feelings, to our texts today? There is a freedom that comes in recognizing and naming our very real feelings in the wake of mass shootings, natural disasters, and more. I heard some of these emotions echoed in our conversations on Wednesday night at Dwelling in the Word and I was reminded once again that we are not alone.

When I hear our reading from Amos today, I can’t help but think of Martin Luther King Jr.’s, “I Have a Dream Speech” that he delivered in 1963 during the March on Washington as part of the Civil Rights Movement. Here, Dr. King declared, “No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream.” These words have become so attached to Dr. King that they are even found on the National Memorial dedicated to him, complete with waterfalls to bring this imagery to life.

This passage is so deeply embedded into the history of the civil rights movement and as much as I try to separate it from this context, I still find myself imagining the pictures and images of protest signs reading, “But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.” I can’t seem to depoliticize this message and perhaps Amos doesn’t actually want us to.

The book of Amos, written by the prophet Amos, is all about right relationships with one another throughout the entirety of our lives. He speaks of justice and on behalf of the oppressed, preaching about the justice that God calls us to advocate for on behalf of our neighbors. Yet it isn’t often that we focus on the difficult reality of this text, in which Amos is speaking in anger and about the coming of the dark days of God. It is a passage rich in emotion and darkness. Yet, this seems to be quite opposite to the way in which we imagine our meeting with God to take place. We know a God of light, a God in which darkness cannot overcome and yet, Amos tells us that this will be a dark, dark, day, to come. Amos is leading us to remember that we worship a God of justice just as much as we worship a God of grace. How exactly do we reconcile this God of justice and grace? How do we share in Amos’ image of a these dark days while knowing the love and grace of God that we have experienced in our own lives and our own community?

We hear in this passage Amos’ critique of the Israelites religious practices, often he’s speaking out against the injustices of priests and the wrongdoings of the empire of the Northern Kingdom. In these critiques we hear him say this harsh statement: “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.” Amos warns us that if we continue to gather without sincerity, if we hold festivals, rallies, protests, and meetings, without a true purpose, and continue to give our gifts to God, singing our praises, without helping our neighbor, he believes that we will not find delight in our meeting with God. This is a passage full of anxiety and fear.

Amos continues to warn us that “Our tithes and offerings and our gifts of service are valuable only in being the practical expression of a right relationship between a righteous human heart and a loving God.” He is telling us that f we have the greatest musical skills in the world or the most beautiful voice and we use those gifts in praise on Sunday, but on Monday we are abusive in our speech to others, typing away on Facebook, then our worship and festivals are distasteful and meaningless. To Amos, it isn’t just a little less valuable, but he suggests that God wishes we wouldn’t do it at all because it seems utterly offensive that we would commit to right relationship with others and then turn around and disregard that promise without confession or asking for forgiveness in turn. Yet, this isn’t to say that worship and protest and gatherings are meaningless, but instead to say that if we are gathering in Christ’s name, but failing to live out that faith within the world and with our neighbors, then what is the point of gathering at all? This is Amos’ gut-wrenching plea with the Israelites to do better, to try harder in standing up for justice for their neighbors and these are the dark days that Amos is point to.

In this critique from Amos I hear two things that can assist us in guiding our actions on behalf of others today and in response to the array of emotions we are likely feeling: First, I hear an angry, angry, Amos. We can’t read this passage without understanding the emotion that is coming from his lips. He is disgusted and angered by the empty festivals and meaningless gatherings taking place and he uses this to speak out about injustices. Amos uses his anger and emotion and turns it toward seeking justice, knowing that he will not do this perfectly, but wants his community to try their hardest. He shows us that anger, disgust, exhaustion, and all forms of emotion are holy. Anger is holy. Disgust is holy. Even exhaustion is holy. Amos wants us to be angry, but only if this anger pushes us to do better on behalf of our neighbors. As the community of Christ, we know our bodies are holy, we are holy, and our feelings are just as holy if they drive us to better care of our neighbors.

Secondly, I hear an Amos that sees the Israelites running from a lion into the mouth of a bear. In other words, he sees people turning away and attempting to avoid the realities of these injustices and the bad things happening around them and instead when they turn, they are met by even bigger problems and find themselves facing even larger injustices and obstacles. Amos is angered by the avoidance culture of the empire and fears that they are simply turning away from trouble into more trouble.

These two pieces from Amos leaves us with clarity as to how the became the modern day voice for the oppressed. It is no surprise that vulnerable and marginalized groups have leaned on these words and utilized them to call out the oppression and disingenuous culture of the empire and those in control.

There is a reason that Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. felt connected to the anger of Amos. He too, was mad, he was angry, and he was full of emotion, but this very emotion is what fueled the Civil Rights Movement. Though MLK and civil rights leaders made mistakes along the way, there is no doubt that they put their emotions into the hands of God, allowing themselves to use these very real, very human emotions to lead their fight for rights and equality. This is the anger that Amos is speaking about, using it on behalf of the neighbor, in protest that lead to better care and love for our neighbor.

Though Amos’ words of anger fueled the civil rights protests, we are reminded that our participation in working towards justice looks different for each us. Many of us will never march on Washington, but I wonder if we can push our feelings to fuel our responses in love, what might protest and resistance might look like in this community, here at Good Shepherd? Can we use our feelings to fuel us to fulfill our baptismal promises? This not only looks differently for each community and each church, but also looks differently for each of us as well.

This passage in Amos --- paired with our Gospel reading from today --- the parable of the bridesmaids --- provides us with a perfect preview into the power of the Gospel. In this parable, we see Jesus also warning us of the dark days to come, just as we heard from Amos, except for Jesus seems to be sharing another message with us. The connection between these readings is found in Amos and Matthew’s images of the coming of the kingdom of heaven. Matthew reminds us that preparing for the kingdom of heaven looks differently than preparing for the empire of this world. || The Gospel and the Good News, found in Matthew, is that Jesus reminds us that we are already participating in the kingdom of heaven, that as Jesus followers, we have become a part of a community that is the living, breathing human form of God’s kingdom, for his kingdom is already here and the good news is that we are a part of this wonderful kingdom working towards this love and justice as God’s people. We are holy. Together, both Amos and Matthew force us to ask how our response to fear and anxiety and all of these other emotions might look differently if we remember that we are preparing for the kingdom of heaven.

As we think back to where we began today, naming our feelings and emotions in this room, I wonder what it may look like to name these feelings to one another? I wonder what it might look like, to discuss openly and perhaps, vulnerably with one another these feelings of fear, anxiety, and complacency, and then work together to understand how we can use these emotions to fuel our community's preparedness for the kingdom of heaven.

The challenge I have for you today, are for myself, is a challenge fueled by our readings from Amos and Matthew, is to not simply ask what this may look like, but to participate in this holy work together. I challenge us to to find someone, or maybe three someones, and talk about all of these holy feelings and what that might mean as we prepare for the kingdom of God --- and I share in this challenge as I ask you to challenge me as well, challenge your pastors, and leaders and ask the hard questions. Perhaps this takes place in quiet whisperings after communion, pre-coffee hour, also known as the passing of the peace, actual coffee hour downstairs, a Facebook message or an email this week --- share your holy selves with those around you and wonder together what this preparation looks like for this community.

I leave you today, with Amos’ reminder that our God is big enough to hold these holy emotions and the questions that we encounter along the way. And Matthew tells us what a beautiful gift it is to already be in a holy community that is participating in this hard kingdom work. Amen.