Amos and Dr. Martin Luther King present salvation in a way we don’t normally think about … for them salvation is communal, not individual. We cannot achieve salvation for ourselves if we allow our community, our nation, and its people, and our world, to suffer and die.
Please join me in prayer. Lord God, may your peace and Holy Spirit fill this place. Open your scriptures to us, and may I clearly communicate that which you intend us to receive. May your Word take root and flourish within each and every one of us. And through it may we be strengthened and transformed by your unconditional, living, and limitless love for all of your Creation.
In Jesus Name, Amen.
The other day, my son and I saw a truck driving on Route 2. It was what is known as a stake body truck (I had to look that one up!): it has a flat bed with metal rails on each side, mounted on stakes. It had a tailgate on the back, which is little unusual. It was very old and had seen hard use: battered, bald tires. It was driven by an equally ancient man. (As my son would say, he was even older than I am.) The truck was filled with what looked to me like a huge pile of random tools, equipment, mysterious bags and boxes.
The bed of the truck tilted to one side at an alarming angle. The broken tailgate was held on by a single ancient strap fastened across the back, tied to the rails on each side – which was a good thing because otherwise they would have collapsed into the road.
The driver had trouble keeping his truck in the lane. I shudder to think of what would have happened in a sudden stop. I could not believe he dared to drive it, let alone at highway speeds. What was so important that he felt such a risk with all of his mysterious cargo was worth it?
Now, stepping back, I imagine this man was the proud owner of that truck when it was new: a shiny red cab, powerful engine, able to carry large loads. Like him, it’s much older now, and a little rough around the edges, but it still does the job. I think he believes there’s plenty of life left in it.
I feel the same way about my electric car. Yeah, there are a few scratches. The interior is getting worn. There are squeaks and creaks that my wife is alarmed by. (I don’t hear them; but then again, I have some hearing loss.)
It drives fine. I barely notice the faded and delaminating body panels. A full charge still mostly gets me around town on a busy day – as long as I’m careful. I still love that car, despite Elon. And, I’m convinced it will continue to serve me well for years to come.
I imagine that old man sees his truck in much the same way. He trusts it. It still serves him well.
The problem is, no matter how much he loves his truck, or how much I love my car, there are other people on the road. That we love our vehicles does not exempt us from keeping others safe. Ask any police officer: safe driving is both an individual act, and a communal responsibility. Similarly, any position of power or honor is both an individual accomplishment and carries communal responsibilities.
Most of this morning’s reading is derived from a long passage in the Book of Amos, Chapter 5. It’s Amos’s lament for Israel and its people. He is distressed because those with power do not accept their responsibilities, and do not see where their failure to do so is leading. They think only of themselves; seeing only the good stuff they have, or they want. They assume the good times will never end. They are not concerned about how their self-centeredness affects others. They are proud of their accomplishments, which they ascribe only to their own efforts.
They forget that their successes required the support and sacrifices of many others. They are oblivious to the clouds on the horizon, and to the suffering of their own people – those without whom they would be nothing. They think they’re sitting in glory, in the driver’s seat of their magnificent ship of state, but do others see it that way? Or are they deluding themselves, like the old man was?
As we all know, here in the present, we and our neighbors are being challenged and harmed in ways we could not have imagined even a few months ago. It began a few years ago, struggling to distinguish fact from fiction. But, now we see hate extolled, empathy labelled aa sin. We are told we can love only as others dictate; and we are told that our bodies are not ours to control. Many of us struggle to keep a roof over our heads; to keep our loved ones safe, healthy, and fed. Our Justice system is being used to oppress and silence those, like Amos, who seek to expose the failures and sins of those with power.
Terrible things are being inflicted upon all of us, especially the powerless. As in Amos’s time, these powerful men believe their wealth is confirmation of divine favor. They believe they are exempt from accountability to anyone, including God. They are oblivious to the pain and loss they are causing; blind to the struggles so many of us face. They show no compassion and seem incapable of empathy. They reject responsibility for the well-being of their neighbors. But, Amos says they can’t avoid an inevitable and inescapable judgment for failing to fulfill their responsibilities to the people; for loving only themselves, not even God.
Like the old man in that truck: they are cruising along, denying anything is wrong, oblivious to just how close to disaster they are, both personally, and for all of us around them. They and that old man are unable to see what is plain to us. Both are blind to the fact that their path leads to destruction.
Martin Luther King frequently quoted Amos 5:24, which is the last line of our reading this morning: “Let justice thunder down like a waterfall; let righteousness flow like a mighty river that never runs dry.”
This is what God wants for us. Amos uses water here as a metaphor for how justice and righteousness affect us and our nation. He envisions inexhaustible quantities of water – of life – far more than is needed for individual redemption. Far more than enough to satisfy the needs of all. Amos and Dr. King are calling for the salvation of their nations, not individual redemption.
Like Amos, Dr. King knew that without God’s Justice and Righteousness, the entire nation will become like a lifeless wasteland, as the scripture said – even the holy places will become dust, like Mt. Carmel. It will no longer be the fruitful land God intends.
Amos says that when righteousness and justice are absent, God rejects all outward displays of faith and piety: religious ceremonies, offerings, sacrifices, music. God is not impressed or moved by any of it. It’s how we treat our neighbors out of what’s in our hearts that matters. Outward demonstrations of faith and fervor do not atone for the sins that those with power commit against those without power – then, or now.
Amos pleads with the elite of his time to see things as they really are. God wants them to repent and turn back from their sin before its too late. Like Dr. King, he saw how their love of self, to the exclusion of all else, leads to the destruction of the people, and themselves too. Both men preached that God loves all, and that we are all called look for that love. To nourish it. And, to stand together in exposing and rejecting sin and evil.
Amos and Dr. King present salvation in a way we don’t normally think about. As I said, for them salvation is communal, not individual. We cannot achieve salvation for ourselves if we allow our community, our nation, and its people, and our world, to suffer and die.
We’re all in this together, which is a good thing. We all have a stake in the outcome, which means we all have a role in the solution; and there is a solution. Amos teaches that God’s plan is for us to work together: caring for the poor, the hungry, the destitute, and the land; looking for the good, and rejecting the evil.
Amos says the love of God manifests in our communities in the form of justice and righteousness, which our efforts cause to be released like a mighty river: a cataract descending upon a dry and thirsty world. It is our task to plant and nourish the seeds that will make this happen: looking for the good, rejecting the evil, providing for the health and strength and restoration of our community and everyone in it; through recognizing that everyone is a neighbor just as deserving of God’s love and care as we are.
We may not be able to convince those in the driver’s seat, or even our neighbors, of any of this right now, which is distressing and discouraging. It seems impossible to get them to see, to understand, to stop speaking hateful words, and to stop blaming the powerless for being … powerless.
Fortunately, we are not called to do that. Our job is not to fix them, but to care: tangibly and consistently demonstrating that we care about the other, all others. We will always share God’s love with them, and will always listen to what they have to say: listening-for and responding-to the hurt and pain and fear which lie at the root of our neighbors’ harsh words and judgements. …The same fears and hurts that those with power exploit. Our job is to alleviate and heal those hurts, not inflame them.
We can also feed and clothe those who are suffering. Visit and care for the sick and aged. Support and encourage those who are defeated. Share a kind word and hug with those overwhelmed by the world’s harshness and pain, no matter who they are. And we can and must lift our voices to shine light in the dark places, on the injustices and sins of our leaders, and protest against it.
Salvation is a communal act. It is not up to our leaders to do it for us, but they are called to participate with us in making it a tangible reality. And regardless of what they do, we are all called to minister to our neighbors, to preach and practice the Gospel wherever we are, and in all that we do.
We are not called to decide what the other is, or what we are. We are called to help others see who they are, and who we are, which is that we are all beloved and precious children of God; united as one before the throne of our Creator.
Amen.
Scripture reference:
Delivered at Memorial Congregational Church UCC in Sudbury MA, November 9th, 2025 (the 22nd Sunday after Pentecost).
Copyright 2025, Allen Vander Meulen III, all rights reserved.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.
The Here and the Hereafter 