In this passage, it does not seem to me that Amos is railing here against food or music or comfort. But here Amos is grieving a people who have grown indifferent, who have numbed themselves to the suffering around them. Luxury becomes dangerous when it shields us from sorrow.   Comfort becomes violent when it is gained at the expense of others' misery, when it severs us from responsibility and when it dead ends the pulse of compassion within us. Here in our text today, Amos Mourns a people who have grown indifferent. He mourns a people who have forgotten the holy work. Of grief for when your life is padded enough to protect you from sorrow.   You refuse to share in the heartbeat of God. And when you refuse to grieve, when you refuse that heartbeat, you refuse to become human. And so Amos cries out not to scold. But like someone who is singing a funeral dirge or reading an obituary in the middle of a party, alas, Amos cries. Your comfort will not last.