The lion roars.
Not because God delights in fire,
but because the poor are being trampled
into the dust.
The innocent sold for silver.
The needy traded
for the price of sandals.
And the terrible thing is this:
these are God’s people.
The people called to bless the nations
have become like the nations.
Those entrusted with justice
have learned the habits of injustice.
Those meant to protect
have become those
from whom others need protection.
For three sins,
even for four.
Enough.
God has been patient,
but patience is not indifference.
The fortresses burn.
The strongholds fall.
The places where power hides
cannot hide forever.
God sees the trafficked child,
the exploited worker,
the vulnerable person
no one bothers to hear.
He sees.
Judgement is the fierce mercy
of a God who refuses
to turn a blind eye.
The lion roars
because injustice matters.
But Amos turns the question
towards us.
What if we have become
like everyone else?
What if the people called to be different
have simply assimilated?
What if our worship is loud
but our compassion is silent?
This has always been
the difficult place for God’s people:
to live in-between.
To belong
without assimilating.
To love the world
without simply becoming like it.
It can be uncomfortable
to be different.
We learn early
the desire to fit in.
To carry the same lunch,
speak the same way,
hold the same opinions,
sit quietly where it is safer.
But God calls his people
to another kind of belonging.
Seek me
and live.
Seek good.
Love God,
and let that love flow outward.
Let justice roll down like waters
and righteousness
like an ever-flowing stream.
Not justice as a slogan.
Not outrage posted
and forgotten.
Justice in the places
where we actually live.
A home opened.
A child fostered.
A neighbour defended.
A stranger welcomed.
A voice raised
when silence would be safer.
Righteousness is not merely
being right.
It is relationships
being made right.
Love of God
flowing outward
in love of neighbour.
The river begins
wherever God’s people refuse
to look away.
Amos does not end
with the fire.
Beyond the ruins
there is a garden.
What has fallen
will rise.
Walls will be rebuilt.
Vineyards will flourish.
Wine will drip from the mountains.
Exiles will come home.
God will plant his people
and they will eat
the fruit of their gardens.
The final word
is not destruction.
It is renewal.
God is rebuilding his world
through Jesus.
A city is coming
where justice will no longer need
to be demanded
because injustice will be gone.
A city where the vulnerable
need no protection
because no one seeks to harm them.
A city of abundance,
rightness,
peace.
The lion roars.
The river flows.
The city rises.
And until that city comes,
God calls his people
to become signs of it.
To let justice roll
through our churches,
our homes,
our institutions,
our choices.
To become again
what we were always called to be:
a blessing to the nations,
a glimpse of the city
that is coming.
Original message by Leon Chen
The Bridge Church Macquarie Park NSW
16 August 2026
The Afterword 
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