Thursday of the 13th Week of Ordinary Time
Then Amaziah the priest of Bethel sent to Jeroboam king of Israel, saying, "Amos has conspired against you in the middle of the house of Israel. The land is not able to bear all his words. For Amos says, 'Jeroboam will die by the sword, and Israel shall surely be led away captive out of his land.'"
Amaziah also said to Amos, "You seer, go, flee away into the land of Judah, and there eat bread, and prophesy there, But don't prophesy again any more at Bethel; for it is the king's sanctuary, and it is a royal house!"
Then Amos answered Amaziah, "I was no prophet, neither was I a prophet's son, but I was a herdsman, and a farmer of sycamore figs; And the Lord took me from following the flock, and the Lord said to me, 'Go, prophesy to my people Israel.' Now therefore listen to the Lord's word: 'You say, Don't prophesy against Israel, and don't preach against the house of Isaac.' Therefore the Lord says: 'Your wife shall be a prostitute in the city, and your sons and your daughters shall fall by the sword, and your land shall be divided by line; and you yourself shall die in a land that is unclean, and Israel shall surely be led away captive out of his land.'"
The Lord's precepts are right, rejoicing the heart. The Lord's commandment is pure, enlightening the eyes.
The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring forever. The Lord's ordinances are true, and righteous altogether.
They are more to be desired than gold, yes, than much fine gold, Sweeter also than honey and the extract of the honeycomb.
Moreover your servant is warned by them. In keeping them there is great reward.
He entered into a boat and crossed over, and came into his own city. Behold, they brought to him a man who was paralyzed, lying on a bed. Jesus, seeing their faith, said to the paralytic, "Son, cheer up! Your sins are forgiven you."
Behold, some of the scribes said to themselves, "This man blasphemes."
Jesus, knowing their thoughts, said, "Why do you think evil in your hearts? For which is easier, to say, 'Your sins are forgiven;' or to say, 'Get up, and walk'? But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins—" (then he said to the paralytic), "Get up, and take up your mat, and go to your house."
He arose and departed to his house. But when the multitudes saw it, they marveled and glorified God, who had given such authority to men.
There's a remarkable honesty in what Amos tells Amaziah: "Look, I'm not a professional prophet. I was tending sheep and tending sycamore trees when God interrupted my life." No credentials, no seminary degree, no prophetic lineage. Just a working man who got called. And because of that call, he refuses to be silenced — not by the king's priest, not by the threat of exile, not by the weight of institutional power telling him to take his message somewhere more convenient.
Notice how that pattern echoes across centuries into the Gospel. Jesus is back in Capernaum, his hometown, and a paralyzed man is brought to him by friends — people whose faith Jesus actually *sees*. And rather than beginning with the obvious, rather than simply healing the man's legs, Jesus goes deeper: "Son, cheer up. Your sins are forgiven." The scribes bristle. In their understanding, only God forgives sins — and they're not wrong about that. What they miss is who they're standing in front of.
The movement here is from the visible to the invisible and back again. The healing of the body becomes the sign that points to something we can't photograph or measure — the restoration of a human soul. Both are real. Both matter.
What connects Amos and this Gospel is the question of authority — where it actually comes from, and what it asks of us. Amos's authority came not from position but from encounter. The paralyzed man's healing came not from his own effort but from the faith of the people who carried him.
We're often the ones being carried. And sometimes we're the ones doing the carrying.
Consider these questions for the day:
Where in your life are you waiting for permission to speak or act on what you know to be true? Who in your life right now might need someone to carry them toward healing — and are you willing to do that work? And what would it mean to let yourself be carried?