Hey, I’m about to get spiritual in this post! I’m amused. My first two speaking engagements in 2026 include a stand-up comedy set about dim sum, and a Sunday sermon on climate justice. Life be like that sometimes.
It was actually a while back when our lead pastor asked if I’d take on a Sunday sermon. Our church was planning for a several-week thematic series about environmental stewardship. Since my day job surrounds caring for the environment it made sense. I often talk about the environment through a lens of faith. I figured this would be a good opportunity to do that in front of a home crowd. Going to this church for close to a decade meant a lot of familiar and friendly faces in the congregation.
I quickly agreed.
A few months later, I’d get an email pitching several dates, along with the themes and passages of Scripture that were selected. I was asked if I might cover a week when our pastor was away for a retreat, though I could have my choice if another week’s theme really was the right fit.
I had a look at the scheduled message: God rebukes nations that oppress the poor. Environmental justice is a prophetic call that confronts systems that exploit creation and people.
Of all the themes the series would cover, this one was the most confrontational. Likely a different tone than people are used to from me. And of all the topics, it probably looked like the biggest challenge.
The fact is, I often wish that the rebuking of nations that oppress the poor happened a little more vividly. I wish that the way people and nations had to face the consequences for mistreating the poor happened more apparently. More obviously. Because I often question if it happens at all.
This is especially true when it comes to the environment. If only it was as simple as each nation facing its own consequences. The most climate vulnerable countries should be the oil-rich Gulf States, the US, Australia, and Canada. Instead the most vulnerable include nations like DR Congo, Somalia, and South Sudan. These are countries with some of the smallest carbon emissions.
I often have to trust that God’s justice happens on a non-individualistic scale. One my mind struggles with. After all, the borders and labels are things we invented.
Anyways, I took my own struggles with the theme and the passage as a nudge to lean into it. Even though I could’ve easily requested a different topic, I decided it was best not to.
I spent the past couple weeks preparing the sermon. There were a lot of notes to hit. Integrating my work experience, the context behind the scripture, and the earlier sermons. Then came the events of the past week.
Minneapolis. Alex Pretti. Murder committed by the US government against its own people, with no accountability.
God rebukes nations that oppress the poor.
Could we see if that delivery has a tracking number?
There were already complex ingredients going into this sermon. I also knew these events had to be addressed in some capacity.
Thankfully, the selection of scripture kind of already does:
“I hate, I despise your religious festivals; your assemblies are a stench to me.
Even though you bring me burnt offerings and grain offerings, I will not accept them.
Though you bring choice fellowship offerings, I will have no regard for them.
Away with the noise of your songs! I will not listen to the music of your harps.
But let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream!
–Amos 5:21-24
Amos was a shepherd and fig farmer. He found himself in a prophetic role at a time when the Kingdom of Israel was prosperous. And hypocritical. They had a lot of rituals and activities meant to showcase their religiousness. Sacrifices and pilgrimages, you know the drill. These rituals were completely hollow.
Amos called out the economic injustice, hypocrisy, and moral decay going on.
When I read phrases like “away with the noise of your songs” megachurch scenes come to mind. “I despise your religious festivals” is giving packed auditoriums. Airlifted pastors performing stunts. Smoke machines. The sort of stuff that are all too easy for Druski to parody.
I can’t help but think of all the eagerness I’ve seen behind church branding. Spiritual movements that trap its congregants in a state of euphoria. All while the neighborhoods around them look like ancient Israel. Injustice and exploitation run rampant.
NPR has released so many episodes titled “Christianity is hip now.” All harping on the trendiness of worship music. (Go public radio, but I don’t need this exact same story on every show, guys!)
There’s a common phrase that gets thrown around a lot in evangelical circles: make Jesus famous. It’s such an American mentality around what it means to know and be known.
We’re misled that to know and be known happens through celebrity, brand recognition, and fame. These circles want to introduce people to God the way you’d introduce someone to Radiohead. They’d rather make fans than followers.
Following requires that you welcome immigrants. Following requires that you call out injustice. Following requires that you side yourself with those who suffer.
I’ve seen so many instances of empty worship that I often feel desensitized to it. Times where a weekly gathering brings about noise and no justice. It’s gotten to the point where I’m likely to associate a church’s sleek branding with emptiness than substance. Most of my spiritual growth over the past decade has come via the uncool.
I appreciate Amos. It shows how, as much as anyone, God despises when people apply holy branding to things that are not of God. And if you do too, you’re not crazy.