The Cushions of Condemnation Text: Amos 6:1-7
Introduction: The Narcotic of Now
We live in an age that is drunk on comfort. Our entire civilization is geared toward the elimination of all friction, all difficulty, all unpleasantness. We have become masters of the immediate, sultans of the satisfactory, and connoisseurs of the convenient. And in our pursuit of a frictionless life, we have mistaken God's blessings for God's approval. We have confused His patience with His permission. This is a damnable error, and it is the very error that the prophet Amos was sent to confront in the northern kingdom of Israel.
The people of Israel in the time of Amos were living high. The economy was booming, their military enemies were quiet for the moment, and the wine was flowing. From a purely materialistic standpoint, things had never been better. They were, in their own eyes, the distinguished men of the first of the nations. They looked at their prosperity and concluded that God was smiling on them. They were at ease in Zion. They felt secure in the mountain of Samaria. But Amos arrives on the scene like a bucket of ice water to the face. He comes not to affirm their comfort, but to announce its end. He comes to tell them that their ease is a spiritual disease, their security is a delusion, and their luxuries are the very evidence that will be presented against them at their trial.
This is a hard word, not just for ancient Israel, but for modern America. We too are a people who feel secure. We trust in our military might, our technological prowess, and our economic engines. We are experts at putting off the day of calamity, at convincing ourselves that the consequences of our rebellion against God will never arrive. We have become professionals at self-indulgence. But the message of Amos is that God does not grade on a curve. He does not wink at the sins of His covenant people simply because they are His people. In fact, their privileged position makes their sin all the more heinous. To whom much is given, much is required. And when that requirement is met with lazy, self-satisfied rebellion, the judgment is not far behind.
The woe that Amos pronounces here is not a lament for their future suffering. It is a declaration of war against their present sin. The central charge is this: they had become so absorbed in their own comfort that they had become utterly blind and calloused to the moral and spiritual ruin all around them. They were spiritually asleep, anesthetized by their affluence. And God was about to provide the rudest of awakenings.
The Text
Woe to those who are at ease in Zion And to those who feel secure in the mountain of Samaria, The distinguished men of the first of the nations, To whom the house of Israel comes.
Pass on over to Calneh and look, And go from there to Hamath the great, Then go down to Gath of the Philistines. Are they better than these kingdoms, Or are their borders greater than your borders?
Do you put off the day of calamity, And would you cause the seat of violence to approach?
Those who lay down on beds of ivory And sprawl on their couches And eat lambs from the flock And calves from the midst of the stall,
Who improvise to the sound of the harp, And like David have composed songs for themselves,
Who drink wine from sacrificial bowls While they anoint themselves with the first pick of the oils, Yet they have not grieved over the destruction of Joseph.
Therefore, they will now go into exile among the first of the exiles, And the sprawlers’ banqueting will turn aside.
(Amos 6:1-7 LSB)
The Arrogance of the Elite (v. 1-2)
The prophecy begins with a direct hit on the leadership, the men at the top of the food chain.
"Woe to those who are at ease in Zion And to those who feel secure in the mountain of Samaria, The distinguished men of the first of the nations, To whom the house of Israel comes." (Amos 6:1)
Amos addresses both kingdoms, Zion (Judah in the south) and Samaria (Israel in the north). This is not just a northern problem; it is a covenant-wide apostasy. The problem is ease and a false sense of security. This is not the peace of God which passes all understanding; this is the numbness of a man whose foot has fallen asleep. He feels no pain, but it is a sign of deadness, not health. They are secure in their mountain fortress, but their true vulnerability is in their hearts. They are the "distinguished men," the "notables." These are the ruling class, the cultural tastemakers, the ones to whom the people look for guidance. And what is their guidance? It is a guidance into decadent complacency.
They have come to believe their own press. They are the "first of the nations." But their status is a gift from God, not a right they have earned. They have forgotten that they are a nation only because God made them one. This is the root of pride: taking credit for what was given as a gift. When a nation's leaders become comfortable, arrogant, and self-assured, the entire nation is in mortal peril. They are the pilots of the ship, and they have fallen asleep at the wheel, drunk on the wine of their own importance.
In the next verse, God, through Amos, tells them to take a little field trip.
"Pass on over to Calneh and look, And go from there to Hamath the great, Then go down to Gath of the Philistines. Are they better than these kingdoms, Or are their borders greater than your borders?" (Amos 6:2)
God tells them to look at other powerful city-states, some of which had already been judged or were on the brink. Calneh, Hamath, Gath, these were not insignificant places. The point is a sharp, rhetorical jab. "Do you think you are special? Do you think your military prowess or your GDP makes you immune? Look at these other nations. Were they mightier than you? No. And yet they have been or will be judged. What makes you think you get a pass?" Israel's pride was based on a comparison with their neighbors, but God was about to judge them by His holy standard. Their relative strength was irrelevant. Their covenantal rebellion was everything.
Willful Blindness (v. 3)
Verse 3 gets to the psychology of their sin. How does a nation of people who have the law of God ignore the plain warnings of that law?
"Do you put off the day of calamity, And would you cause the seat of violence to approach?" (Amos 6:3)
They practiced wishful thinking as a national policy. They simply refused to believe that judgment was coming. They "put off the day of calamity." This is the sinner's great self-deception: the idea that tomorrow will be just like today. It is the lie that because judgment has not yet fallen, it will never fall. But notice the terrible irony. In their effort to push away the thought of a future judgment, they were actively "causing the seat of violence to approach." Their very sins, the injustice and idolatry that their luxury was built upon, were the magnets drawing the Assyrian armies toward them. Their complacency was not preventing disaster; it was guaranteeing it. Every act of oppression, every drunken feast, every song sung in self-congratulation was another nail in their national coffin.
A Portrait of Decadence (v. 4-6)
Verses 4 through 6 provide a detailed, almost cinematic, description of their self-indulgence. It is a picture of a culture rotting from the head down.
"Those who lay down on beds of ivory And sprawl on their couches And eat lambs from the flock And calves from the midst of the stall," (Amos 6:4)
This is not about the sin of owning a nice couch. The issue is the heart behind the luxury. These are not men resting from honest labor. They "sprawl." It is a picture of lazy, indulgent, uselessness. Their furniture is inlaid with ivory, an expensive import. Their diet consists of the very best, the tender lambs and fatted calves, not the normal fare of the common man. This luxury was financed by the oppression of the poor, as Amos has made clear in previous chapters. They were literally eating the livelihoods of their neighbors.
"Who improvise to the sound of the harp, And like David have composed songs for themselves," (Amos 6:5)
Here the critique becomes even more pointed. They are not just lazy gluttons; they are cultured, artistic, lazy gluttons. They fancy themselves as creative geniuses. The comparison to David is dripping with sarcasm. David composed songs for the worship of Yahweh. These men compose songs for themselves, for their own entertainment, to accompany their drunken feasts. They have taken the very forms of godly worship and creativity and have prostituted them in the service of their own bellies. This is a profound spiritual corruption. It is the worship of self, cloaked in the language of high culture.
"Who drink wine from sacrificial bowls While they anoint themselves with the first pick of the oils, Yet they have not grieved over the destruction of Joseph." (Amos 6:6)
The corruption deepens. They drink wine not from cups, but from "bowls," suggesting gross excess. And these are likely bowls taken from the temple, items meant for sacred worship now used for common debauchery. They anoint themselves with the finest oils, a practice that could be for gladness, but here it is a symbol of preening vanity. And then comes the indictment that ties it all together: "Yet they have not grieved over the destruction of Joseph."
Joseph is a name for the northern tribes. The "destruction" or "ruin" of Joseph refers to the moral, spiritual, and social collapse of the nation. It is the injustice in the courts, the oppression of the poor, the rampant idolatry. And these leaders, the very men responsible for the health of the nation, are completely indifferent. They do not care. They are not grieved. Their hearts are so calloused by their comfort that the ruin of their own people does not move them in the slightest. This is the final stage of spiritual cancer: a complete lack of godly grief over sin.
The Inevitable Reversal (v. 7)
Because of all this, the verdict is pronounced. The sentence fits the crime with a terrible, poetic justice.
"Therefore, they will now go into exile among the first of the exiles, And the sprawlers’ banqueting will turn aside." (Amos 6:7)
The logic is simple and brutal. Therefore. Because of your pride, your willful blindness, your decadent luxury, and your cold-hearted indifference, this is what will happen. Those who were "first" among the nations will be the "first" to go into exile. Their leadership in sin will be rewarded with leadership in judgment. They will lead the sad procession of captives to Assyria. God will give them exactly what they deserve. He will reverse their fortunes entirely.
And what of their endless parties? "The sprawlers’ banqueting will turn aside." The Hebrew word for this banqueting has connotations of a pagan, orgiastic feast. God says, "The party is over." The music will stop. The wine will be spilled. The ivory beds will be hauled away as plunder. The laughter will be replaced with the weeping of exiles. This is not a maybe. This is a divine certainty.
Conclusion: Grieving for Joseph Today
It is easy for us to read a passage like this and cluck our tongues at those decadent Israelites. But the Word of God is a mirror, not just a window. The woe pronounced by Amos echoes down through the centuries and lands squarely in the lap of the comfortable, self-satisfied, and distracted American church.
We too live in a nation of unprecedented wealth and comfort. We have our own ivory beds, our own fatted calves, our own endless stream of self-centered entertainment. And like Israel, we have become experts at putting off the day of calamity. We live in the midst of a great "destruction of Joseph." Our nation is in a state of moral and spiritual collapse. The foundations of marriage, family, sexuality, and justice are being systematically dismantled. Millions of unborn children are slaughtered in the womb. And what is the response of many in the church? We are not grieved.
We are too busy improvising our own worship songs, anointing ourselves with the oils of therapeutic, feel-good religion, and sprawling on the couches of our own private spiritualities. We are more concerned with our comfort than with the commands of our God. We are more interested in being secure than in being sanctified. We have become at ease in Zion.
The warning of Amos is a mercy. It is a call to wake up before the house burns down. It is a call to grieve. To grieve over our own sin. To grieve over the ruin of our nation. True grief, godly grief, leads to repentance. And repentance is the only path away from judgment.
The good news is that God has provided a way. The ultimate judgment that we deserve for our self-indulgent rebellion fell not on us, but on the Lord Jesus Christ. He was not at ease. He was a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief. He did not sprawl on a couch; He was stretched out on a cross. He did not drink wine from sacrificial bowls; He drank the cup of God's wrath for us. He did this so that we, the guilty, might be forgiven.
But this grace is not cheap. It is not a license to continue sprawling. It is a summons to a new life. It is a call to take up our cross and follow Him. It is a call to stop being at ease in a world that is at war with our God. It is a call to grieve over the ruin of Joseph, and to labor, by God's grace, for the restoration of all things under the Lordship of Jesus Christ. The party of the wicked will end. Let us make sure we are not on the guest list.