I was sitting in one of the many chairs at my church’s auditorium getting ready to listen to the Sunday sermon. I could see a small group of elderly ladies and their husbands sitting in the front rows, followed by mothers attempting to control their unruly children. At the very back of the room I could see that the last rows were filled with teenagers ready to bolt out the door just as soon as they called for the dismissal of the youth.While the band was tuning up before worship, a man climbed on stage. He was dressed very simply, a red t-shirt and thick blue denim jeans. He faced the congregation and began to speak.
“This is what the LORD has told me,” he said. There was a stir in the vast room as he continued, “‘I hate your hypocrisy! You come in your name-brand designer clothes to my house, not to honor me, but to declare your wealth. You hand out money to the beggars on the street corner, and yet do not lift a finger to evangelize them! You preach about purity and chastity, but allow your daughters to be promiscuous -- becoming pregnant before even reaching the age of sixteen. You support orphans, and yet encourage your daughters to get abortions. You say you love Me and my Word, yet you accept the very acts I despise most!’”
The pastor stood up and yelled, “Who are you to say this? Get off the stage!”
The man replied, “I am not a prophet, nor the son of a prophet! I herd sheep and tend my orchards, but God took me and said to prophesy against you!” the man stared at the pastor with a look of distaste and continued.
“‘Your homes are in shambles! You divorce as much as the pagans outside the church. Your children rebel and hate my laws because you have not set an example -- no! -- you are too busy reading the latest magazines or coveting the latest cars. I have given you a home and a life, all of which you have allowed to rot!
“‘I despise your tithes and offerings and your missionary trips! You give for show, and let the widow with three children next door desperately struggle to survive. You travel to make yourselves feel good -- not to share My love. You spit in my face, then act as though I should bless your efforts, you cows!
“‘You can name every sporting team on television, and yet you cannot share the gospel. You watch every movie, and hear every band, yet you cannot find time to reach the lost. Take away the sound of your drums and keyboard! Your choirs and guitars! I will not listen to that noise!
“‘My wrath will come swiftly if you do not change your hearts. You say that calamity will not overtake you, but lo! Everything you love will be laid to waste because of your disobedience. You will have famine and drought without relief, but I am the God of Love and Forgiveness. Change your ways, turn to Me, and follow My commandments. Be bold and true in your love to Me, for I AM the LORD your God.’”
The room had become deathly silent. When the man finished, he jumped off the stage and walked to the back of the room. I grabbed his sleeve right before he left and asked him his name.
“Amos,” was his reply, and I never saw him again.
