Sunday, November 9, 2025

Sermon: Dam It, Amos 5:5:14-15, 21-24 (November 9, 2025)

Just over two years ago, in September 2023, a terrible tragedy hit the Libyan city of Derna. After years of neglected maintenance and record-breaking torrential rain from Storm Daniel, two dams that had held the Wadi Derna River back since the 1970s collapsed, unleashing over 30 million cubic meters of water on the sleeping city[1]. The loss of property and life was staggering, to the point that as of three months ago, almost 3,300 people are still unaccounted for.[2] Some official figures number the fatalities at just over 4,500 deaths,[3] but other sources estimate that as many as 24,000 lives may have been lost.[4] It was the deadliest dam failure of the 21st century and the second deadliest in recorded history. 

If you’re wondering what on earth this awful event has to do with today’s scripture reading, it’s probably because you’ve never heard these verses in the larger context of Amos’ prophecy. 

On its own, the description of “justice roll[ing] down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream,” can evoke a pleasant - or at least comforting - image: God’s justice as a powerful river, like the mighty Mississippi, flowing freely and steadily over the land, providing nourishment to all living things. Beautiful, right?

But when we zoom out and read these verses in the context of the REST of Amos’ prophecy, we start to get the sense that maybe this isn’t the peaceful image the prophet had in mind. Starting at verse 7: “Doom to you who turn justice into poison, and throw righteousness to the ground! The one who…summons the waters of the sea, and pours them out on the surface of the earth - this one’s name is the Lord - who causes destruction to flash out against the strong, so that destruction comes upon the fortress.

“They hate the one who judges at the city gate, and they reject the one who speaks the truth. Truly, because you crush the weak, and because you tax their grain, you won’t live in the houses of carved stone that you have built; you won’t drink the wine from the pleasant vineyards that you have planted. I know how many are your crimes, and how numerous are your sins - afflicting the righteous, taking money on the side, turning away the poor who seek help…

“...I hate, I reject your festivals; I don’t enjoy your joyous assemblies. If you bring me your entirely burned offerings and gifts of food - I won’t be pleased; I won’t even look at your offerings of well-fed animals. Take away the noise of your songs; I won’t listen to the melody of your harps. But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.”[5]

In this context, it’s clear that Amos’ description of God’s justice is not meant to be encouraging. God is utterly disgusted with the people. Israelite society had become characterized by rampant corruption, greed, and oppression. The wealthy shamelessly exploited the poor through taxes, hoarding resources, and manipulation of the justice system. Where God’s justice should have been flowing freely, the people had built dams: human laws and societal structures that limited who could access justice and disproportionately advantaged the privileged few. 

I’m sure this doesn’t need to be said, but - does any of this sound familiar? 

The people couldn’t claim ignorance. They knew what God’s justice is supposed to look like. They had the Torah (in oral form, if not yet in writing), which was not in any way ambiguous about this topic. Again and again, the Law says things like,  “Do not show…deference to the great,”[6] “Don’t delay justice; don’t show favoritism; Don’t take bribes.”[7] Torah insists that “...[God] enacts justice for orphans and widows, and [God] loves immigrants, giving them food and clothing,”[8] and it tells the people “...if there are some poor persons among you…you must generously lend them whatever they need.”[9] 

According to Torah Law, God’s justice should have been flowing freely over ALL the people, regardless of their social or economic status. But the dam built by the wealthier Israelites served themselves over and above everyone else, meting out justice according to their own whims. As a result, *they* flourished while others floundered. Israel APPEARED prosperous from the outside, but its most vulnerable citizens were suffering terribly.

Again, I feel like this goes without saying, but nevertheless - does this sound familiar? I’ll say it anyway: our nation is poised to have its first trillionaire (with a “T”) in the next ten years; meanwhile, millions of families are struggling to put food on their tables because they aren’t paid a living wage and our government is unwilling to provide them the help that they’ve been forced to rely on. As it stands right now, health care costs are about to balloon beyond what many Americans can afford at the beginning of next year. None of this is just. The dams we’ve built in our own backyard are firmly in place.

Of course, the problem, as the Derna disaster demonstrates, is that water is powerful, and dams fail. That’s essentially Amos’ message here: he’s telling the people that the dam they’d painstakingly built to withhold God’s justice from certain people had reached a breaking point - their time was up. God’s justice can only be held back for so long before it powerfully bursts forth, whether we like it or not. And when that happens, things will never be the same again. As Professor of religion Karen Lebacqz puts it, “Biblical justice has this character, all-encompassing and requiring entirely new systems and structures…Justice is not simply a principle or standard but rather a command that is powerful, pervasive, and majestic.”[10]

When Amos says, “Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream,” it’s not an exhortation or a warning or even a threat to the people. It’s a description of the inevitable consequences when we try to put limits on God. As he puts it in verse 8, “[God] summons the waters of the sea, and pours them out on the surface of the earth.” This is not God’s wrath pouring out on humanity as punishment (God has promised never to do that again), but God’s justice is far too powerful for us to control for very long. 

For Israel, the consequences were truly awful. In 722 BCE - less than a generation after Amos’ prophecy - the northern kingdom fell to the Assyrians. The people were forced into exile, losing not only their homes and political autonomy, but their very sense of identity as God’s people in the Promised Land. This cannot be overstated: the nation of Israel was utterly destroyed when the dam holding back God’s justice broke. 

Now, it’s my sincerest hope that in our case, what we’re seeing all around us is the people of this country beginning to wake up to the many ways that justice has long been denied to our neighbors and even ourselves - *God’s* version of justice, not the human institutions that gatekeep it - and I pray that our grumbling and dissatisfaction is on the verge of turning into transformative societal change. I hope that there’s no prophet out there somewhere preparing to inform us that we’re at the beginning of the end. I hope that we’re about to tear down the dams ourselves.

But if this isn’t the case - if we’re merely recognizing the cracks that are already there in a dam preparing to burst - I also hope we remember that it will be okay. I don’t mean that it won’t be painful if the systems that we’ve structured our lives around crumble to the ground, or that there won’t be substantial rebuilding that we need to do for years, even decades into the future. I’m not saying that everything will eventually go back to the way it was before. A dam breaking is always a catastrophic event. But unlike with a literal dam failure, the devastation won’t be all there is for us. True, in Israel’s case, the kingdom was gone forever, but the people learned how to be faithful in exile - and eventually, the new society that they built gave us the Messiah. It may have been the end of their kingdom, but it wasn’t the end of their story. 

No matter what happens to the dams we build in our society, God is ultimately in control. And if we can persevere through whatever transition is to come, if we manage to learn from Israel’s and our own mistakes, then there will be life after the dam bursts. The idea of God’s justice rolling down like water pouring from a broken dam is scary and intimidating and more than a little bit overwhelming. But ultimately, if it’s what will finally allow us to let go of the kingdoms of this world and turn towards the kindom of God instead, then maybe Amos’ prophecy isn’t such bad news after all. Whatever storm may be on the horizon, let us hold fast to the promise of resurrection - and may our faith always be one that breaks down the dams of human injustice, no matter the cost. Amen.

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[1] https://www.iwmi.org/news/two-years-after-libyas-disastrous-floods-dam-neglect-remains-a-global-risk/

[2] https://www.aa.com.tr/en/africa/libya-reports-3-297-missing-from-2023-derna-flood-disaster-in-1st-official-tally/3658985

[3] Ibid.

[4] https://www.iwmi.org/news/two-years-after-libyas-disastrous-floods-dam-neglect-remains-a-global-risk/

[5] Amos 5:7-12, 21-24, edited/paraphrased CEB.

[6] Leviticus 19:15, CEB.

[7] Deuteronomy 16:19, CEB.

[8] Deuteronomy 10:18, CEB.

[9] Deuteronomy 15:7-8, CEB. 

[10] https://drive.google.com/file/d/1d7dwOqncgAaLYa75OzU1OR8QQhRyldqE/view, p. 93. 

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