Majors In The Minors - Part 3 - Amos

continuing our series, The Majors and the Minors, talking about and working our way through the minor prophets. And if you haven't had a chance to go back and listen to any of the previous teachings, I really recommend you do so. They're wonderful. Um I've relistened to quite a few of them because I felt like there was so much I just didn't catch or couldn't write down quick enough. Um there's been incredible teaching. Now, I have to admit, I was a little nervous about this one. Um not because of the message, but because my grandmother has informed me that I apparently pronounce Amos incorrectly.

So now, thanks to Grandma, I'm going to be self-conscious about it all night, every time I say his name. Now, Amos comes right after Joel, and Sister Lindsey did an absolutely wonderful job leading the charge on that last week. I do want to start by talking about who Amos was, about the time that this took place. You see, Amos wasn't a prophet by profession, and that that's a theme we are seeing. He wasn't raised in this. He wasn't the son of a prophet. He was a shepherd and a dresser of sycamore trees from a little town in Judah.

Amos 7:14 says, "Then answered Amos and said to Amaziah, I was no prophet, neither was I a prophet's son, but I was a herdsman and a gatherer of sycamore fruit." Now, that might not mean much to us at first glance. But Amos is essentially saying, "Hey, I'm not part of this at all. Um I was not part of the religious establishment. I don't have a title. I didn't come from a family known to ministry. I wasn't seeking a platform. I was just doing what I needed to do." He was a shepherd.

He tended to sheep. He dressed the sycamore figs. It was hard, ordinary work. And yet God called this ordinary man to deliver an extraordinary message. And I think that should be encouraging to many of us in this place. I know it's encouraging to me because God has never been limited by resumes. That's not how he operates. That's not how he chooses. He's always been in the business of using ordinary people to accomplish extraordinary purposes. I mean, Moses was a shepherd, David was a shepherd, Peter was a fisherman, Amos was a fig dresser.

God isn't looking for impressive credentials. He's just looking for willing hearts, and that is going to be a common theme you see as we work through the prophets. Now, God sends Amos from Judah into the northern kingdom of Israel during one of the most prosperous seasons in their history. They were under King Jeroboam II. The economy was thriving. They were doing well. The borders seemed secure. Business was booming. Worship services were packed, and festivals were being celebrated. If you looked at Israel from the outside, if you viewed it from an outside perspective, you probably would have thought God is blessing them.

Everything must be fine. Look at how they're operating. But, God saw something nobody else wanted to acknowledge. Prosperity had masked corruption, and religion had replaced relationship. Worship had become performance, while righteousness had become something that was optional. And as soon as you begin reading Amos, you realize something very quickly. God isn't simply angry. He's grieved. He's confronting something serious here. I mean, the book opens with judgment against the surrounding nations, Damascus, Gaza, Tyre, Edom, Ammon, Moab, Judah. He's just letting them all have it. He's coming through with the judgment.

You can almost imagine at least Okay, I'll I'll pull a pastor. What I imagine Israel from what we read about them in the Old Testament almost listening and nodding along. Preach it, Amos. Tell those wicked nations that they're getting what they deserve. And then it's like Amos turns and is like, "Okay, well, now we get to address you." Now it's your turn, Israel. And suddenly the people who were cheering became the people being confronted. Never a good feeling. Because sometimes it's easier to identify the sins of others than it is to acknowledge what's happening in our own hearts.

And while it's easy to read Amos and conclude that God is simply angry, there is so much more to the story than that. This is the heartbreak of God over a people who knew how to worship but had forgotten how to live righteously. There was a disconnect, a gap taking place in the hearts of Israel. Amos chapter 5 verses 21 through 24 says, "I hate, I despise your feast days, and I will not smell in your solemn assemblies. Though you offer me burnt offerings and your meat offerings, I will not accept them.

Neither will I regard the peace offerings of your fat beasts. Take thou away from me the noise of thy songs, for I will not hear the melody of thy viols, but let judgment run down as waters and righteousness as a mighty stream." Ooh. The New Living Translation puts it this way, "I hate all your show and pretense. The hypocrisy of your religious festivals and solemn assemblies. Away with your noisy hymns of praise. I will not listen to the music of your hearts. Instead, I want to see a mighty flood of justice, an endless river of righteous living." Can you imagine receiving those words?

Can you imagine being there and that being spoken to you? Cuz in this moment, God was not rejecting pagan worship. He was rejecting the worship of his own people. The festivals he had commanded, the sacrifices he had instituted, the songs written in his honor. That's what he was rejecting in this moment. Why? Why was he rejecting them? Because Israel's worship had become disconnected from their obedience. Religion had replaced the relationship. And worship had become more about performance while righteousness had become optional in their eyes. Their lips honored God while their lives contradicted him.

They knew how to have church. They they knew when to stand, they knew when to sit, they knew the songs to sing and the prayers to pray. They knew what everyone expected them to look like. But their Monday didn't match their Sunday. The sanctuary didn't match what took place in the marketplace and their worship wasn't transforming the way they treated people. And before we're too hard on Israel, maybe Amos asks us some uncomfortable questions, too. Do our songs sound different than our speech? Do our raised hands align with how we actually treat people?

Do our worship services affect the way that we conduct ourselves? Would the people we work with recognize the righteousness we proclaim at church? Because righteousness in Amos is so much more than this personal morality. It's more than simply living a good life. That that there's so much more to righteousness than that. It is a right relationship expressed through a right action. Verse 24 again says, "But let judgment run down as waters and righteousness as a mighty stream." So let's talk about righteousness for a moment. Let's take a deeper look at what that means.

The Hebrew word for righteousness used here is sedeqah. And while it can refer to a personal uprightness, in Amos it carries a strong sense of social righteousness. Doing what is right in your dealings with other people. You see Israel again, they were very religious. They had the festivals, they brought the sacrifices. They they sang the worship songs, they knew the motions. They knew the law. I I tend to think about the Pharisees in the New Testament when when thinking about it here. They knew exactly what to say and when to say it.

They had it memorized. They knew exactly what to do. Similarly, we know how to worship. We we've got it memorized. We know the motions to go through and we know what to do and we know not what to do. And yet Amos repeatedly points out that they were exploiting the poor, taking bribes, denying justice to the needy, trampling on the vulnerable and using dishonest business practices. They were not righteous. Maybe in their own eyes they were, but not in God's. And I really love how Amos pairs two words together here.

He starts to begin to compare justice and righteousness. You see, justice is about making things right, protecting those who are vulnerable, judging impartially. And then when you bring in righteousness, the sedeqah, it's living in covenant faithfulness and doing what is right in relationship with God and others. There there's two parts to it. You see, we're pretty good. I think I'm pretty good as a society about establishing or at least saying we have a relationship with God. We're very good at that. We're pretty good about the first part, but I tend to think sometimes we are lacking on that second part.

You see, judge justice is a public expression and righteousness is the character that produces it. You can't have one without the other. Righteousness is an inward devotion to God that results in outward obedience. And obedience to what you might say. I follow the law, I come to church, I do what I'm supposed to. What what else is there to be obedient to? Righteousness in Amos isn't merely avoiding the wrong things. It's actively doing the right things. It's worship that leaves the sanctuary and it flows into every single relationship, every decision, and every opportunity reflect God.

That is righteousness. God wasn't asking Israel to sing better songs. He was asking them for lives that sounded like the songs they were singing. That there was a disconnect taking place here. If you can take your righteousness off at the end of your Sunday, then you do not have righteousness. If you can take it off at work, then you don't have righteousness at the restaurant, in your home, around those you interact with, then you do not have righteousness. If my love only extends to those within the confines of these walls, I'm neither obedient nor am I righteous.

If my kindness only extends to those of the same faith, the same religion, the same background, upbringing, race, then I am again neither obedient nor am I righteous. Let's take a look at Matthew 25. Jesus describes this future day of judgment when he will separate people like a shepherd separates sheep from goats. The difference between the two two groups isn't that one attended religious services and the other didn't. That's not the distinction here. It's that one group's faith produced compassion and obedience while the others did not.

The righteous fed the hungry, welcomed the stranger, clothed the naked, visited the sick, and cared for those in prison. Matthew 25:41-46 says, "Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, depart from me, you cursed, into everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was an hungered, and you gave me no meat. I was thirsty, and you gave me no drink. I was a stranger, and you took me not in, naked and you clothed me not, sick and in prison and you visited me not.

Then shall they also answer him saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungered, or a thirst, or stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minister unto thee? Then shall he answer them saying, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me. And these shall go away into everlasting punishment, but the righteous into life eternal. You see, they were surprised to learn that serving the least of these meant that they were serving Christ himself.

It was a surprise to them. There was a disconnect taking place. The goats were equally surprised cuz their failure wasn't necessarily act of cruelty. They weren't going out of their way to be cruel, but it was neglect. It It was ignorance. It wasn't paying attention to those placed around us. They had opportunities to love and to minister, but they chose not to act. Jesus teaches that genuine faith reveals itself through a tangible expression of mercy and justice towards others. You see, our treatment of people, especially the vulnerable, reflects our relationship with him.

And And this is not a new concept. This wasn't new when Amos talked about it. It It's not new in any regards. It wasn't as though God suddenly decided he cared about justice one day and woke up and said, All right, this is what we're going to focus on. As though righteousness was a new concept, as though caring for people was somehow separate from worship. This has always been God's heart. Always. Micah chapter 6 verse 8 says, He has showed thee, O man, what is good, and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God.

Deuteronomy chapter 10:18 and 19, He doth execute the judgment of the fatherless and widow and loveth the stranger in giving him food and raiment. Love you therefore the stranger for ye were strangers in the land of Egypt. Why? Because God's people are supposed to reflect God's character. And God cares about the widow. He cares about the orphan, the stranger, and therefore his people should too. That that's what he's trying to call attention to. There's a disconnect between your worship and what you're actually doing. Proverbs 21 and 3 says to do justice and judgment is more acceptable to the Lord than sacrifice.

Matthew 22:37-40, Jesus said unto them, "Thou shalt love the Lord God with all thy heart, with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment, and the second is like unto thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets." You see, God's people have always been called to reflect his heart. Always. Which means righteousness was never just about avoiding sin. It was also about actively reflecting God's justice, his mercy, his compassion, and his love towards others.

Because justice is righteousness applied to our neighbor, and righteousness is devotion to God expressed in my daily life. I've spoken many times about my travels abroad. I've been very blessed. The Lord has blessed me with opportunities to interact in many countries, many places, and with many people. And I will say it again, we do not understand hospitality. Not not true hospitality. I've sat in homes where people had very little by our standards. Dirt floors, limited, if any, electricity. Meals made from what they harvested that day or what little they had left.

Yet, when you walk through their doors, they gave you their best. Homes where their faith maybe didn't align with my faith. Homes where the mere mention of Jesus would cause harm and yet they welcomed with open arms. They gave their best, not what was convenient. Their best. And I've watched families insist that guests eat first even when I knew there was not enough for them. Where they insisted on replenishing the plates of those around them even when there was not much on theirs. I've had people who had every reason to guard what little they possessed and said open up their homes, pull up a chair, and treat strangers just like family.

And every single time I walked away thinking the same thing. They understand something we've forgotten. Something I've forgotten. Something that's disconnected in our culture. They understand something that we do not fully grasp. For us, hospitality has become synonymous with entertainment. And again, I'm all for entertaining. I have young adults over at my parents' house all the time. I'm all for it. I'm all for decorating. I'm all for events, but there has to be a dis- something that changes from it's not just we're planning it. But we're opening up the doors when an opportunity arises.

We're not just having to be like, "Okay, two months out, then we can have something." There's a disconnect happening. Biblical hospitality has never been about impressing people. It's always been about making room for them. Not just people that look like me, talk like me, worship like me, share the same religion as me. That's not what it's about. It's looking at people. It's seeing someone else's need and responding with compassion. It's opening our hands and our hearts. It's noticing the stranger. It's noticing the hungry, the hurting, the overlooked, and saying, "Hey, you matter to me because you matter to God.

It It's not just overlooking people. It It's paying attention. That's exactly what Jesus describes in Matthew 25. I was hungry and you gave me meat. I was thirsty and you gave me drink. I was a stranger and you took me in. The righteous weren't commended because they had perfect church attendance or because they knew all the right songs to sing. They were commended because their love for God had become visible in the way they loved people. They saw a need and they met it. I wonder if that's what Amos was getting at all along.

I wonder if that is what he was saying. Let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream. Because righteousness isn't just what happens in the sanctuary. Righteousness looks like feeding the hungry, welcoming the stranger, visiting the sick, caring for the forgotten. It's worship that has hands and feet. You see, God wasn't again asking Israel to make louder songs. That's not what he was asking. He was asking for lives that began to reflect his heart. The rest of our worship or the test of our worship isn't how well we sing in God's presence, but whether we recognize his presence in the people he places in front of us.

Are we choosing to view people as God views them? Because that's what we're called to do. That That's what we are called to take that step. A friend of mine, and y'all y'all know her, had a lengthy discussion discussion recently on Sedaka and she's preached many times on righteousness and I'll never forget a statement she made when we were talking about it. She said, "Entertain everyone you come in contact with as your chance, your opportunity to entertain God." What would happen if that's how we viewed to interact with people?

Not see them as burdens, not see them as interruptions in our day, but actually view them as we have the opportunity to interact with God here, to entertain that. And I think that's what Jesus was getting at in Matthew 25. Do we see God in those around us, or do we just see what we want to see? Are you and I even looking? Are Are we opening our eyes to the world around us? Are we so consumed by our schedules, our to-do lists, our routines, our ministry that we miss the very people God has placed in front of us?

Some of my favorite moments in ministry have been the moments when God opens my eyes to the people around me. In fact, it's a prayer I pray every single day. Lord, touch my eyes. Help me to see people as you see them. Help me to recognize the opportunities that you place in front of me. Help me not to miss what you're doing in the moment. And let me tell you, if you pray that, he's going to do it, and you're going to get to get out of your comfort zone a little bit.

Cuz I'm a true introvert, through and through. I am an introvert. And if I had my choice at the airport, I'm going to put my headphones in. I'm going to go find my gate, make sure it exists, go get a coffee, then go back to my gate and just sit there and read a book. That That would be what I would prefer to do. And people watch. It's fun. But apparently God always has other plans, every single time. Because his favorite thing to do is to interrupt my solitude.

He'll nudge my spirit and say, "Hey, I need you to go sit in that chair. The one between everyone. Or you want me to go sit by that person randomly at the Starbucks. You want me to do this, pray for that, ask him how he's doing." I can't tell you how many times I've sat in my air- airplane seat, and I'm ready to put my headphones in, and the Lord says, "Nope. Talk to the person beside you." That's a 13-hour flight. I don't want to talk to the person beside me.

I don't want to. But every time I obey, I walk away realizing that what I thought was an interruption was actually an invitation. An invitation to see someone he sees, an invitation to love someone he loves. An invitation to participate in something he's already doing. It's exciting. And I say that as an introvert. I've heard many complain that the Lord just isn't opening up doors or opportunities to minister to people. And sometimes I have to question if they're even looking or they choosing to view every interruption as an annoyance.

Are we are we even trying to open our eyes to see the people around us? Are we even trying to view people as he views people? Are we so caught up in our day and our ministry and our worship that we have missed the mark? Brother Hanley once told a story he told me a story about a friend who went away to college. His roommate was from the Middle East. And at the beginning of the school year this this exchange student brought a massive suitcase and put it at the top of the closet.

And it stayed there for the duration of the school year. Just this suitcase unpacked at the top of the closet. And then finally at the end of the school year the friend asked, "Hey, what is in that suitcase? You brought it and you never touched it. You just put it up there." And the exchange student responded, "Before I left home my mother told me how hospitable and kind Americans were. She filled my suitcase with gifts and items so that I could bring them to people's homes when they invited me for the holidays." Not once during the entire school year had he been invited into a single person's home.

He left with a packed suitcase. Is that said of us? We interact with people God has placed in front of us day in and day out or does our righteousness only extend to those within the confines of these walls? I wonder if Amos would have said something about that. I wonder if Jesus would because righteousness doesn't end at church attendance. Righteousness opens the door. Righteousness notices the stranger. Righteousness makes room at the table. Righteousness asks, "Who have I overlooked?" The question isn't whether people pass by us every day.

They do. The question is whether we have the eyes to even see them. Are we righteous? Not by our standard, but are we righteous by God's? Cuz there's a difference. Amos chapter 7 verses 7 or chapter 7 verses 7 through 8 says, "Thus he showed me, and behold, the Lord stood upon a wall made by a plumb line, with a plumb line in his hand. And the Lord said unto me, 'Amos, what seest thou?' And I said, 'A plumb line.' Then said the Lord, 'Behold, I will set a plumb line in the midst of my people Israel.

I will not again pass by them anymore.'" You see, a plumb line was a simple tool used by builders. It was a weight suspended from a string that helped determine if a wall was straight. If it was true. The wall didn't get to decide what straight meant. The builder didn't just eyeball and say, "That looks straight. Sure, that's what we're going to go with." The plumb line established that standard. And if the wall leaned, it wasn't because the plumb line was wrong, it was because the wall had drifted.

Amos 7 is speaking to us, I believe. Because we love to redefine the standards. We've become very good at it. We've been very good at at comparison. Well, at least I'm not as bad as that person. I I may struggle, but look at what they do. I know I'm not perfect, but God knows my heart. He made me this way. But God never called us to measure us against one another or to compare ourselves to the world. The The standard is not the person sitting beside you.

The standard isn't culture. It isn't Western culture. It isn't American culture. The standard isn't public opinion. It's It's my opinion. It isn't what everybody else is doing. The standard is the word of God. And what he says, how he aligns the standard. I thought of something Pastor has said often, and I'm sure everybody in this room knows. Many times we try to keep distance between ourselves and the world. That that's the standard. I'm going to maintain a 6-ft distance between me and the world. But the problem is, as the world begins to drift, so do we.

And then we ourselves are beginning to move farther and farther away from the standard God set, because guess what? I'm still 6-ft from the world. But we're not aligning ourselves to the standard that has been set before us. The danger of comparison is that I can always find someone doing worse than me. I'll never allow God to address what's crooked in my own life. If my eyes are on everybody else's faults and issues, then my eyes are not on the fact that my wall may be leaning.

You see, Israel had convinced themselves they were fine. We see that throughout scripture. They think they are in the right all the time. All the time, and the Lord's very quick to say, "No, not quite." After all, they weren't Damascus. They weren't Gaza. They weren't Moab. They weren't those people. And yet when God lowered the plumb line into the middle of his own people, it began to expose what prosperity, religion, and outward appearances had begun to hide. It began to reveal their heart. It revealed something that didn't quite align with the standard God had set for them, with the covenant had set for them.

What looked stable was not straight. What looked successful wasn't surrendered. What looked righteous wasn't aligned with God. Now, Amos isn't the only prophet to use this imagery. Isaiah chapter 28, verse 17 says, "I will test you with the measuring line of justice and the plumb line of righteousness. Since your refuge is made of lies, a hail storm will knock it down. Since it is made of deception, a flood will sweep it away. Again, notice what God is measuring here. Not popularity, not prosperity, not religious activity, but justice.

Righteousness. God isn't impressed by how tall the wall appears. He's concerned about whether it's true. Whether it achieves his standard. You see, Israel had built an impressive structure. Their economy was thriving. Their festivals were crowded. Their sacrifices were plentiful. Their songs were loud. But underneath the appearance was a foundation of injustice, hypocrisy, and self-deception. And Isaiah says that anything built on lies eventually collapses. Anything built on deception will eventually fall. Anything built on a standard other than God's righteousness cannot stand. You can paint a crooked wall.

You can decorate a crooked wall. You can convince yourself a crooked wall is straight. I'm pretty stubborn. I can tilt my head and be like, "Yeah, it's straight." I I I can I can convince myself that I am doing the right thing. Eventually, though, the standard you hold yourself to and the standard God holds you to will reveal the level of obedience on the inside. You can only sustain for so long, and that's what God was doing through Amos. He was pointing out the measurements off.

So something's not aligning with what I have told the people. He wasn't measuring Israel by their attendance records. He wasn't measuring them by the number of sacrifices they offered. He wasn't measuring them by how loudly they sang. He was measuring them by justice, by righteousness. Did their lives reflect the character of God? Did their hearts match the outward? Because the plumb line reveals what worship conceals. God is not interested in or impressed with worship that does not produce righteousness. The plumb line exposed a gap between appearance and reality, between religion and righteousness, between performance and obedience.

God still measures by the same standard today. That's why God says, "Let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream." Because God lowered the plumb line into Israel. Justice and righteousness were exactly what he found missing. There was a gap. There were cracks beginning to form on Israel. But what I really love is the plumb line wasn't an act of cruelty. It wasn't God just shining a light and saying, "Hey, look at the cracks. You are failing. You are not doing good." That That's not the purpose.

It was an act of mercy. Because a loving builder addresses what is leaning before a structure collapses. Imagine moving into a brand new home. Brand new home and now you notice a crack running down the wall. You look over and you're like, "Great. That's wonderful. I'm not going to stress about that." You call the builder and the builder responds, "Hey, don't worry about it. Nobody's perfect. It'll be fine." How would you feel? If you just let the crack stay, you'd find a new builder. Because love doesn't ignore what threatens the integrity of the structure.

It addresses it. It repairs it. It strengthens it. God used Amos to reveal that he would be measuring Israel by his own righteous standard, not their own. Israel had become very good at self-evaluation as many of us, maybe just me in this room, is. I tend to measure myself by my own standard. Lord, I failed at this. And he's like, "But the line's over here." Okay, but I did this. But the line's over here. We were very good at that. We begin to look around like Israel did.

They began to look at the nations surrounding them. Hey, we're doing all right. I'm not Damascus. I'm not doing that. After all, they again offered sacrifices. They followed the law. They identified themselves as God's people. Compared to everyone else, they thought they were doing just fine. But the problem with using ourselves as the standard is that we will almost always find a way to justify ourselves. We're not as bad as they are. At least we don't do that. Surely God understands, and little by little the standard begins to shift.

It begins to misalign. It begins to crack, and what was once conviction becomes conquer- compromise. What was once obedience becomes optional. What was once clearly wrong becomes acceptable because we've grown accustomed to it. Israel was not measuring themselves against God's holiness anymore. They were measuring themselves against the culture around them and the people beside them. But God lowered that line and essentially said, "Hey, you don't get to decide. You don't get to decide what righteousness is. You don't get to redefine justice. You don't get to rewrite my standard to fit your comfort." The Lord wasn't interested in Israel's opinions of themselves.

He wasn't impressed by their outward displays of religion. He wasn't asking whether they looked righteous in the eyes of others. He was asking whether they aligned with his character. Because righteousness is not determined by the popular vote. It doesn't evolve with culture. God's character has always been the standard. And I think that's a difficult word for us today because we live in a world that encourages us to create our own truth. Do what feels right. Follow your heart. Live your truth. But Jeremiah 17:9 reminds us the heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked.

Who can know it? Left to ourselves, we'll often call crooked things straight simply because they become familiar. We don't need a mirror that reflects our preferences. We need a plumb line that reveals the reality. When God reveals areas of misalignment in our lives, he isn't trying to embarrass us. That is never God's intention. He's inviting us into transformation. He's inviting us to fix it. It's a step closer into it. The God who sets the standard is also the God who gives us the grace to meet it.

He doesn't expose our hearts just to destroy us. That is not his intention. It wasn't his goal with Amos. Why else send a prophet if you didn't care about the people you were sending him to? He wanted them to return. He wanted them to fix it. He exposes our hearts so that he can heal it. So, the question isn't, "How do I compare to everyone else?" The question is, "Lord, where do I stand in light of your word?" For Israel, justice had become rather selective. Justice isn't whatever society decides it should be.

Justice isn't determined by who has power. Justice is measured by God's character. And Jeff, I'm sorry. I added a scripture that I did not tell you about. Psalms 89:14, "Righteousness and justice are the foundation of your throne. Unfailing love and truth walk before you as attendants." Think about that. If you want to know what God's kingdom is built on, it's not power, it's not wealth, it's not influence, it's righteousness and justice. That's his his throne. Righteousness and justice. If he stresses the importance of it, shouldn't we?

The plumb line reveals whether our treatment of others aligns with the heart of God. It exposes righteousness. It exposes everything that we're not doing. Israel believed righteousness meant participating in religious activity. Justice and righteousness are what life looks like when it has been measured by God. The issue in Amos wasn't simply that Israel was behaving badly. The issue was that Israel no longer reflected the character of the God they claimed to worship. There's a disconnect in the people and their God. The God they sang about was just, but they were unjust.

The God they praised was righteous, but they were unrighteous. The God they sacrificed to defended the vulnerable, but they exploited them. That's why God was so grieved in Amos. As you read it, all you can feel is the frustration, the grievance that he feels because those are his people not following what he has said. It wasn't because they failed a checklist. It was because they no longer resembled him. Justice is righteousness applied to our neighbor, and righteousness is devotion to God expressed in our daily life.

And hypocrisy is what happens when we claim God's standard, but we refuse to align ourselves to it. Perhaps that's the question Amos is leaving with us before he ever gets to restoration. What standard am I living by? Not Not what standard do I profess. What standard do I post about, but what standard am I actually living by? Because righteousness isn't tested when everyone is watching. It's tested in ordinary moments. In the way we speak to others, in the way we treat people, that's when righteousness begins to show.

It responds in the way we respond when someone wrongs us. In the way we handle ourselves, our finances, in the way we speak about people who are not in the room. It's how we care for the vulnerable, the overlooked, the stranger. The true measure of righteousness is not what happens here in the sanctuary. It's what leaves the sanctuary. You see, Amos wasn't calling Israel again to become more religious. He was calling them to become more like God. And that's a sobering thought because it means that worship is not measured merely by lifted hands.

It's measured by transformed lives. It It's not measured by just what we do here, but it's measured by how we we do out there. The question was never whether again Israel could sink. It was about whether Israel would obey. It was never whether they knew the law, but would they end up living it? And if we're honest tonight, every one of us has fallen short of that standard. I know I have. Every one of us has places where that line that plumb line has begun to expose cracks.

Every one of us has areas where justice, righteousness, and obedience have not always perfectly aligned. Which is exactly why Amos 9 is such great news. We love when they round it out with some positive things. Amos 9 chapter or chapter 9 verses 11 through 15 says, "In that day will I raise up the tabernacle of David that is fallen and close up the breaches thereof, and I will raise up his ruins, and I will build it as in the days of old, that they might possess the remnant of Edom and all of the heathen which are called by my name, saith the Lord that doeth this.

Behold, the days come, saith the Lord, that the plowman will overtake the reaper and the treader of grapes him that soweth seed. And the mountains shall drop sweet wine, and all the hills shall melt. And I will bring again the captivity of my people of Israel, and they shall build the waste cities and inhabit them. They shall plant vineyards and drink the wine thereof. They shall also make gardens and eat the fruit of them. And I will plant upon their land, and they shall no more be pulled up out of their land, saith the Lord thy God." After all the rebuke, after all the warnings, all the hard conversations about justice, righteousness, and the hypocrisy that the Lord was seeing, Amos ends with hope.

And isn't that how God always operates? It It seems to be a running theme over the last few prophets we've discussed. It's a running theme of what does God do when his people fall? And Amos answers with he confronts. He corrects. But then he calls and ultimately he will restore. And let's look at the language used throughout Amos 9. He says, "I will raise up. I will close up. I will raise up his ruins. I will build it. I will bring again. I will plant." I love that God says, "I will." Not they will have to fix themselves.

Not if they can get it together. Not if they can earn their way back. No, God says, "I will raise them up. I will repair it. I will rebuild the cracks that I'm seeing. I will rebuild the ruins." The tabernacle of David had fallen. There were breaches in the walls. There were ruins. The kingdom of God had been divided. Sin had left its mark. Everything that once represented strength and stability stability now laid broken. And yet God looked at the ruins and said, "I'm not finished.

I'm not finished with that yet." The same God who held that plumb line in chapter 7 now picks up the tools of restoration in chapter 9. He's not just going to leave them there seeing everything that they messed up. It's seeing all of their failures. Because God doesn't expose what is broken so he can walk away from it. He exposes it so he can redeem it. He's both a builder and a restorer. Over and over again the emphasis is not on what Israel will do. The emphasis is on what God will do.

Because restoration has always been God's work. Israel could not rebuild what their sin had destroyed. Israel could not heal the breach. They could not restore the covenant. Israel could not save themselves and neither can we. Amos again says in verse 13, "Behold, the days come, saith the Lord, that the plowman shall overtake the reaper." In other words, the harvest would be so abundant that before one season ended, another is going to begin. That the blessings are coming. The reaper would still be gathering crops when it was already time to plant again.

Can you imagine hearing those words after all the warnings that preceded them? After all the things where the Lord had called them out and said, "Hey, we got to address this and this and this. You failed here. You failed here. There's cracks beginning to show." Can you imagine what it feels like to then hear this chapter? The God who declared judgment also promised abundance. The God who confronted injustice also promised restoration. The God who hates hypocrisy still desired relationship. Because judgment was never God's ultimate goal.

Redemption was. Discipline is never about rejection. It was about returning his people to himself. He says they shall build the waste cities and inhabit them. The places that had been devastated will be rebuilt. The places abandoned will be inhabited again. You're not going to be left in the ruins. You're not going to be left with the cracks showing. You're not going to be left with your failures staring you in the face. The things sin had ruined will not have the final word. What security that is.

What what permanence that is. What faithfulness that is. Israel had been unfaithful, but God remained faithful. They had wandered, but God pursued. They had broken covenant, but God still spoke of restoration. Because God's mercy is always greater than our failure. And we see that true. We see that in the gospel. Jesus, the son of David, the one who restores David's fallen tent. We see it time after time. the one who bore the judgment we deserve so we could experience the restoration we never could have earned.

Over and over Amos reminds us that God is holy enough to confront our sin, but gracious enough to restore the sinner. He demands righteousness. God calls for justice. He exposes hypocrisy, but he never does so without extending the invitation to return. The final word of Amos is not destruction. It's restoration. It's not exile. It's not ruin. It's about rebuilding. It's about restoring. And maybe that's what some of us, or maybe just me, needs to hear tonight. Perhaps you've allowed that plumb line into your heart and all you can see is the cracks.

All you can see is the breaches, the ruins, the places where you have fallen short. But if God can rebuild Israel, he can rebuild you. If God can restore what generations destroyed, he can restore what sin has broken. The same hands that hold the plumb line are the same hands that mend the breaches, mend the cracks. The same God who is convicting is the same God who is restoring. The final word over his people has never been about condemnation. And for those to return to him, the final word is grace.

We sing about it tonight. Perhaps the most beautiful part of Amos 9 is this, the restoration comes after the plumb line. Not before it. The rebuilding comes after the exposure. Not before it. And the healing comes after the diagnosis, not before it. Which means the cracks are not going to be the end of the story. The breaches are not the end of the story. The ruins are not the end of the story. God's grace always has the final word. Every single time, God's grace has the final word.

The enemy wants you to believe that exposure means rejection. God says exposure is an invitation. The enemy says, "Look how broken you are." And God says, "Look what I can rebuild." The enemy says, "Look at the ruins of your life. Look at the ruins of your ministry." And God says, "Mhm, look at the restoration." The enemy says, "It's over." And God says, "I'm not finished." Romans 8:1 says, "There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the spirit." The plumb line.

God's standard may reveal what's crooked. It may hurt a little bit. It might hurt to see the cracks, to see those failings, but grace provides what condemnation never could, a path to restoration. Notice Paul doesn't say there's no conviction. There is conviction. The plumb line still exists. God still calls us to righteousness. God still calls us to justice. God still confronts hypocrisy. But conviction is different than condemnation. Condemnation says, "You are beyond hope." And I couldn't help but laugh while while studying Amos because it was like the Lord was flicking me in the forehead, as he always does.

That's I'm surprised I don't have a dent here tonight. And Pastor preached an amazing message on Sunday about hope. Absolutely amazing. And would you believe that right after service, I found myself standing in that corner right over there doing the exact opposite of what he had preached? Immediately, I lost hope on Sunday. I couldn't help but laugh at it. And and maybe it's just me. Y'all are like, "Man, she did not receive that well." The Lord's working, I promise. I was venting about how I had absolutely no idea what's happening in my life right now.

No hope. Wondering what God was doing. Looking at all the things that aren't happening. Looking at my failures, my shortcomings, the cracks bleeding through. And you know, it's funny how quickly we shift our focus, so quickly. One moment we're hearing about God's faithfulness, the next moment we're measuring our lives by our circumstances. One moment we're singing about his goodness and the next moment we're questioning. We see the cracks. We see the ruins and we think, "Mhm, he can do it for them, but not me. There's hope for everyone else, but not me." And I'm ashamed to say my mom had to smack me in the forehead.

Literally, it hurt. It did not feel good. No, and pastor walked up right when she smacked me in the forehead, too. It was great. Great. And I've listened to that message multiple times over the last few days, multiple times wanting desperately to cling to hope. Because sometimes God has to repeat himself before it finally sinks in. Look at the prophets. How many times do we see a common thing where the Lord's like, "Okay, here's the issue, here's this, but I will restore you." It's repeated over and over.

I like to think that I'm better than the Israelites, but it's written in the Bible for a reason because I'm no better than them at all. And I've listened again to that message over the last few days trying to hold on to hope, and I found myself studying Amos chapter 9, and it was there again, hope. It's almost as though God looked down and said, "Hey, you're still not getting it yet, are you? You're not getting it. Hope. Not not in yourself, not in your ability, not in your performance, not in your circumstances, hope in God.

Because if there was ever a people who had a reason to feel hopeless, it was Israel in that moment. The plumb line had been lowered, the hypocrisy had been exposed, the injustice had been confronted, the judgment declared. Their breaches were real, the ruins were evident. No hope. The failures were real. And yet God says, "I will raise it up. I'm going to repair it. I'm going to rebuild it. And what a reminder. God never asked us to place our hope in our ability to fix the cracks ourselves.

He asked us to place our hope in his ability to restore us. Some of us spend so much time staring at our failures that we miss him trying to restore it. As we all stand and I bring this to a close, we have a tendency, if you're anything like me, to replay every single mistake. Everything, every missed opportunity, every act of disobedience, every place we fell short, and before long, all we can see are ruins. But that's not what God sees. We see breaches, but God sees rebuilding.

We see brokenness, and God sees redemption. We see what has been lost, and God sees what still can be restored. And maybe that's why Amos was the perfect messenger, because the Lord knew exactly who he was calling. A dresser of sycamore fruit, a man whose job was to cut, pierce, and tend fruit so that it could mature. Fruit that would otherwise remain hard, bitter, and unusable. The man who pierced fruit so it could become useful was called by God to pierce hardened hearts so they could become fruitful.

You see, Amos knew something about tending things that looked unpromising. He had spent years preparing bitter fruit for harvest, and now God was using him to prepare a bitter nation for restoration. God sent him to a nation that looked prosperous on the outside. It looked it. The worship was there, the sacrifices were there, but it needed its heart exposed so righteousness could grow. Don't mistake God's conviction for his rejection. Don't mistake the plumb line for abandonment. Don't mistake exposure for destruction. The plumb line isn't the end of the story, it's just the beginning of that restoration process.

It should make you excited that the Lord wants to work on you, that he wants to do it, that he does hasn't left you. Don't look at those moment where God is aligning you to his standard as the end. Conviction says come home and condemnation says you're ruined. Grace says though I'm I'm going to rebuild. Grace says I will restore and that's the final message of Amos. The God who demands righteousness is also the God who makes righteousness possible. The God who exposes injustice is also the God who restores.

The God who reveals the breaches the God who repairs it. Throughout Amos, God has been asking one question, will my people align themselves with my heart? Not merely in worship, not merely in sacrifice, not merely in appearance, but in righteousness, in justice, in the way we treat others, in the way they reflect me. Perhaps God has lowered the plumb line in a some area of your life. I know he has mine. Maybe he's exposed places where worship and obedience have become disconnected. Maybe he's revealed things that need repairing.

Or maybe all you tonight you can see is ruins. You don't see anything other than devastation. But the God who demands righteousness is also the God who makes righteousness possible. The God who exposes that is the God who repairs it. The God who reveals the ruins is the God who's going to rebuild them. And the God who lowers the plumb line is the same God who says have hope. I'm not finished yet. Yes, you you might have some cracks, but I'm not finished yet. May maybe you have some ruins, but guess what?

I can repair the ruins. He's calling us to a deeper level to not give up the hope. To recognize the conviction, but to move forward with him. Lord, I thank you for allowing us to be here tonight. I thank you for each and every person in this room. >> >> I thank you, Lord, for the opportunities you're going to present. I ask that you would place in our hearts, God, the willingness to see to see your people as you see them, God. To open our eyes to the world around us and not be so caught up >> >> with what we do within these walls, God.

I ask that you would begin to restore, that you would begin to fill up the cracks that have been showing, Lord, and that you would do a hope. You are good and you are mighty and you are wonderful. In Jesus' name, amen.