Gathering Fresh Courage

Amos 5:18-24 and Excerpts from Jesus and the Disinherited by Howard Thurman

Let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever flowing stream. These words from the prophet Amos are from the 8th century. Isn't that incredible that we say them today knowing those who went before us said them too and they arrived to us right on time. The prophet's words are filled with rage. If you know the history he is writing from the sharp divisions of a divided kingdom in a time when people like him were being dismissed. 

Womanist scholar Will Gaffney reminds us that Amos was a migrant farm worker promising the world that God will in time make things right. Which is why you get that warning at the beginning of what you heard. Are you sure you want God's day, the Lord's day to come? He is calling them to do justice for the poor and the needy whom they are trampling. Calling them out and in, pointing out how the people have turned so far away from God that even the way they were worshiping was off, corrupt, for show, shallow. Amos wanted them to know that the divine within us and all around us cares little for fancy overfunded processions while the babies starve. 

Over these recent years, we have seen the variety of ways people can respond when the powerful gather together to sing praises while dropping bombs. Not everyone hears Amos shouts, and even those who do don't always like what they hear, so they ignore it. When Amos sings out, “take away from me the noise of your songs. I will not listen to the melody of your harps.” I love that line. 

I have observed that it takes courage to do what is right. And boy, this time has really revealed that when those with all the money and might lift up something else. At nearly every turn, you have to wear courage almost like a garment, refusing to accept what is again and again and putting it on even when others say it looks ridiculous. Dr. Gaffney writes, "Amos is reminding us that justice and righteousness are not luxuries. They are not luxuries to be relished in good times, but are essential elements of a faithful life, even in the most desperate times. And later in Amos, we read that justice is in fact the fruit of righteousness. And yet we know that to delight in the fruits of righteousness, we do need not just courage, but a special kind. One that invites a willingness to labor, to show an inordinate amount of patience, to be willing to till and toil, to plant seeds that you might not see sprout in your lifetime, to get our hands dirty. A commitment to coming again and again to something that is not yet there when it looks hopeless and barren. 

Showing fresh courage for a higher cause. That phrase you heard from Howard Thurman. I love that “fresh courage.” Those following in the spirit of Jesus being in and among the oppressed. When all of us are together, that is when we gather fresh courage. Living hope in fear, bringing love and hatred. Fresh courage. It is essential to justice. 

Like what was shown in the early 1990s and the decades after. Maybe you've heard this story already that the tradition for all high school valedictorians was to have a chance to meet the governor. The most important meeting happens not just anywhere, but in a really fancy part of the city. So, it's extra special that you get to meet the governor. That year, a high school valedictorian from a family was among the working poor, and so they arrived at the mansion in public transit. This was a real shocker to those at the gates, not expecting anyone to arrive on a bus. So when the family stepped off and was gazed upon with skepticism, in the words of Stacy Abrams, my parents and I got off the bus and we walked across the street and we got to the guard at the gate and the guard looks at me and looks at my parents and looks at the bus and tells us we don't belong here. He assumed we were just visitors coming to view the mansion as tourists. And my dad says, "No, no, you know, this is my daughter Stacy. She's the valid she's one of the valedictorians." But the guard didn't look at the list that he had. He didn't accept the invitation that her mom had in her purse. He sneered at them and he said, "Look, you don't belong here." 

That could have been the end of the story. my friends, simply to avoid any confrontation that could have emerged from the power differential at play. However, her parents were studying to become United Methodist ministers. And while not yet pastors, they were convicted and courageous. And her father, sharing an impromptu mini sermon on the spot, told the guard that, and I quote, he might just spend eternity in a fiery place if he didn't find her name on that checklist. And before it, you know what? Guess what? Stacy Abrams name was found on that list. And here is what she said about that day. Indeed, the man checks the checklist and eventually he found my name and he led us inside. But I don't remember meeting the governor of Georgia. I don't recall meeting my fellow valedictorians from 180 school districts. The only clear memory I have of that day, she said, was a man standing in front of me in the most powerful place in all of Georgia, looking at me and telling me I don't belong. And so I decided 20 some odd years later to be the person who got to open the gates. 

You might know she ran for governor twice and lost both times, but took the learning and her genius as an organizer, a legislator, and an advocate, and a lawyer and put it into composting that pain into something new. Through the New Georgia Project and Fairfight organization, she put her energy and expertise into engaging voters, protecting voter rights, and building an electorate that was actively a part of imagining something that was not yet. She helped register voters and refused to accept the status quo and she unwound that spiritual lie that it was all set and that not everyone belongs. But that took fresh courage, right? And a willingness to labor, to be patient, to toil until and plant seeds that might not sprout in her lifetime, to give to something that is not yet. 

Let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an everflowing stream. 

And you know, last week the first black woman was elected to the office that Stacy didn't herself achieve. But she made that possible. And she maybe knew that what she was doing wasn't just about her. She kept working even when the whole thing wasn't really working for her personally. and she said in an interview that part of what makes big things possible is being able to dream beyond what is right now. She said, "I'd never met a lawyer growing up. I'd never met a politician. So, part of what I learned is that you have to dream beyond the things you know and see." We have known and grown this capacity as Jesus followers, my friend. 

This is faith. And I feel like in this time we've kept the light on for many. We are often called to live in that space between what is and what will one day be. And here at CUCC, we are really good at this, which is part of part of why this church is so alive and growing right now, so engaged in caring for one another and making the world a little kinder and a little more just. There are a critical mass of you who have claimed the spiritual discipline of demonstrating fresh courage both individually and collectively and I can't name all of that this year but a willingness to labor, to be patient, to till and toil to plant seeds that will sprout beyond our lifetimes. Showing up to bedsides to hold hands, to make a meal, to give rides, to help each other heal through recovery. 

Since June of 2025, a small group of us kept showing up on Wednesday nights, kept showing up when there was nothing there, when it was small. And now, we've been awarded a large grant to support and fully become Recovery Cafe Boulder. And there are over 30 of us involved. 

Early in the year, a small group showed up to hear and listen how we could support our friends and neighbors in detention. And you showed up and showed up in that gap and raised $6,000 for the Colorado Immigrant Justice Fund, refusing to accept the status quo. We dare to live again and again with the expectation of what should be even though it is not quite yet here. 

When I told you I felt called to stand on the corner every Friday leading up to the election, you came. I was never there on my own. And raise your hand. Some of you are in this room who are there with me. Over the course of those eight weeks,13 of you stood there with me. I believe it mattered to bring out in public how high the stakes were for this election. Who knows what difference we made? There were so many other ways we could have used that time. So it told our community it matters. 

That is faithful and righteous living. Showing up with fresh courage again and again and again. 

That there is no curriculum or program that makes a church like that a church like you that shows fresh courage again and again. No consultant could be hired to make a congregation courageous. That is a culture. That is a commitment. That is you. 

It gives my heart so much hope to give spiritually and financially to community UCCC. You are a church with an ever renewing supply of fresh courage. So on this stewardship Sunday and on this week where it feels like a boundary was drawn for the sake of justice where righteousness was rewarded where the long toiling has shown to be in the end worthwhile. I have been thinking how truly important and powerful it is and feels to give to this church. It makes me happy to give back generously to this group, to this place, to this people who sees fresh fresh courage as a spiritual practice, who [clears throat] understands Christian living more than about a creed long ago, but about a disciplined life here and now. Thank you, community UCC, for being patient, for being willing to till and toil, for planting seeds that won't sprout in our lifetimes, for living with dirty hands and an open heart and a commitment to coming to something that is not yet. 

So, one of the things the historians tell us about this text is that, as you know, there's hardly ever water in a desert like that. So it's persistence in seeking the rivulets that do not ever dry up even in the summer heat. Sometimes our call is to be the rivulets until others come with us, right? And then before you know it, you have an ever flowing stream. I hope to watch it live when Kesha Lance Bottoms, a descendant of slaves, opens the front door to the Georgia governor's mansion and welcomes Stacy Abrams across that threshold. 

Let us wear fresh courage like a garment. Beloved ones, thank you for practicing it like a spiritual discipline, refusing to accept what is, putting on courage like a garment even when others say it looks ridiculous. And then sometimes we get to be present for and part of justice rolling down like waters and righteousness like an everflowing stream, even sometimes a tsunami. Joyful, joyful God, we adore thee. Amen