Let Justice Roll Down, a sermon based on Amos 5: 18-24, preached on November 12, 2023

I’d like to begin this sermon with an announcement to any who haven’t ever been to this church before: I don’t normally dress like this. Our worship services aren’t always like this. Today is a special day, celebrating the Scottish roots of the Presbyterian Church. As this is a Presbyterian Church, one Sunday each year, we take the time to celebrate where our faith tradition came from with this special worship service, called Kirkin’ of the Tartan. You might be thinking to yourself, “If I’m not Scottish, can I still be a Presbyterian?” Hear me say, up until I became the pastor here, the most Scottish thing I’d ever done was watch the movie Braveheart and occasionally have a sip or two of Glenlivet. Every year, I struggle again to put on this kilt. It’s not immediately clear which side of this thing is the front. I also struggle to remember where the decorative dagger goes because it doesn’t go in this special purse around my waist, but in my sock. This special purse that goes around my waist is the best part of the outfit. It’s so nice to have a bag to put my things in; however, my point is that this outfit is not familiar. It’s not technically a part of my heritage. At some point in history, the Evans family left Wales, crossed the Atlantic Ocean, and came to the United States, so Ancesty.com would not substantiate my claim to any of these tartans. Maybe the same is true of you. If it is, let me tell you that those of us whose last names do not appear on a tartan still have something miraculous to celebrate today. Today, we are celebrating the McDonalds and the Macfarlanes. We raise up the names of Anderson, Cummings, Duncan, and Hay. We do raise the tartans to recognize these great families who can trace their roots right back to the Scottish Lowlands and the Highlands, yet the preacher before you, who moved to Marietta from Virginia Highlands, has a place in this worship service as well. Today is a celebration for all God’s people because all God’s people have a heritage worth celebrating, especially if, as is true of the Scots among us, some oppressive power tried to take all your traditions away. This worship service is inspired by an old Scottish liturgy that developed during the English occupation. If you’ve seen the movie Braveheart as I have (I’ve seen it like 50 times, but I realize not everyone has.), then remember how hard it was for those people to remain proud of their heritage while living under the thumb of the British Empire. For generations, bagpipes were played in secret rather than out in the open, and the plaids of each family couldn’t be worn in public. Still, the families snuck in just patches of their tartans. Into the churches, they brought squares, small enough to be smuggled into the church, where they were blessed by God in secret during a worship service. So it has been for oppressed people throughout human history. Think about the long hair of the Native American, cut as Cherokee boys and girls were separated from their tribes and forced into schoolhouses where they’d forget the language of their people. Think about the generations who were enslaved in this country. They were kept from learning to read, they forgot the languages of their homelands, and they gathered to worship God in brush arbors and secret places beyond the prying eyes of their captors. Throughout human history, concurring armies have burned drums and books. Ritual dancing was outlawed. Accents have disappeared. Yet these are no scraps of wool snuck into this place of worship. These pipes are not played under the cover of nightfall. Therefore, this worship service is not just a celebration of Scottish heritage; it is also a celebration of God’s justice, which upon the head of the empire has come rolling down. Today, we remember that while they tried – while they tried to break our bagpipes and our spirits, while they banned our tartans and stole our land - justice still came rolling down. We boldly declare it in this worship service, and every worship service because we know that far greater than the power of the empire is the power of God who made heaven and earth. We know that far stronger than the weapon of our oppressor is the mighty hand of God. If the man has you feeling down, If you ever feel discouraged, If you have a boss who doesn’t respect you and your friends put you down, or if your teachers just don’t understand and bullies walk the hall, and everyone around you has already had their growth spurt and life just isn’t fair, look at these tartans that were held in secret but not destroyed, for justice will come rolling down. That’s the theme of today’s service. If we’re doing anything other than rejoicing in God’s justice, then this is just a pep rally in plaid. The prophet Amos spoke of someone who fled from a lion and was met by a bear, or of someone who went into the house and rested a hand against the wall and was bitten by a snake. Do you ever feel that way? Do the powers of sin and death ever get you down? Sometimes, we go to the doctor’s office and hear that we’ve healed from lung cancer while cancer has sprung up some place else. Then, we watch the news and pray for the victims of one tragedy, even though tomorrow there will be another tragedy with another group of victims to pray for. Yet the day is coming when the power of empire, the power of oppression, the power of cancer, even the power of death will be broken, for justice will come rolling down. That’s what today’s worship service is all about. My wife, Sara, reads a lot more than I do. Next to her side of the bed is a stack of books. She must read three books a week. She puts me to shame. Plus, she reads the New York Times cover to cover every morning and does Wordle. Last Friday, she sent me an article about Matthew Perry, who was a star on the TV series Friends. You may have heard that he recently died. You may also have heard that he struggled with alcoholism. That struggle was a primary theme of his memoir, which recently came out. A good friend of his, another actor, named Hank Azaria, remembered him in a guest essay that Sara sent me, and in that article, Hank Azaria described what it was like to go with Matthew Perry to Azaria’s first AA meeting. We went to this very big gathering in Brentwood, California. We walked in, and I swear it seemed there were a thousand people in there. [Matthew] knew the look on my face – daunted. Beyond daunted: demoralized. It’s very hard to imagine how going into a room like this is somehow going to make you want to stop drinking or make you feel better. And he looked at me and said in his Matthew, half-joking, very loving way: “It’s something, isn’t it? God is a bunch of drunks in a room.” That may be a shocking thing to hear, but let me say it a different way. God is there among those who gather for AA meetings. God was there among those oppressed Scottish people. God was there among those enslaved people who gathered together under the cover of shadow to steal away to the brush arbor, or in the time of Roman persecution, among who confessed their faith in the catacombs proclaiming that there is a power greater than death, greater than oppression, greater than tyranny, greater than addiction, greater than cancer, greater than sin. Do not compromise with empire. Empire’s days are numbered. Watching the debates among politicians, you don’t need to settle for the least bad option. Corruption’s days are already numbered. Lift up your eyes to the hills today. Remember from which our help comes. For justice will come rolling down. There is a power stronger than death. There is a power stronger than tyranny. We lifted the tartans, which years ago were but tiny squares of cloth, smuggled in, but I call you today to lift up your head if you are bearing heavy sorrow. Lift up your eyes and see that the sun also rises. Lift up your heart, as justice comes rolling down. Amen.