“The lion has roared; who will not fear?
The Lord God has spoken; who can but prophesy?” — Amos 3:8
Amos was not a professional prophet. He was a shepherd and a fig grower, sent from Judah into the prosperous northern kingdom of Israel with a message no one wanted. Israel was thriving—economically strong, religiously active, culturally confident. On the surface, it looked like God’s blessing was undeniable.
But Amos 3 exposes a sobering truth: privilege is not the same as approval.
God says something startling:
“You only have I known of all the families of the earth; therefore I will punish you for all your iniquities.” (Amos 3:2)
Being “known” by God was not a free pass—it meant deeper accountability. Relationship brings responsibility. Israel’s problem wasn’t ignorance of God; it was distance from His heart.
Amos uses a series of cause-and-effect questions to drive the point home. Lions don’t roar without reason. Traps don’t spring accidentally. Disaster doesn’t come without cause. In other words, what Israel was experiencing was not random—it was God trying to get their attention.
Their sin wasn’t merely moral failure; it was spiritual disconnect. They worshiped while exploiting the poor. They practiced religion while ignoring justice. They enjoyed peace while silencing God’s warnings. Their confidence rested in wealth, ritual, and national identity rather than humility and obedience.
That’s where Amos feels uncomfortably modern.
We, too, can mistake activity for intimacy. We can confuse success with God’s favor and noise with His presence. We can build lives—and even churches—that function well without truly listening to Him.
Amos reminds us that God’s confrontation is an act of love. Silence would mean abandonment. The roar is mercy before ruin.
The real question isn’t whether God is speaking.
It’s whether we’re still listening.
And that’s the mid-week memo.
