The Prophet: Amos (17 page)

Their hearts were like stone, impenetrable. They wore the armor of pride.

Anguish filled Amos. He had seen their end. Crying out, he wept and tore his robe. “Come, let us tell of the Lord’s greatness; let us exalt His name together. I prayed to the Lord, and He answered me. He freed me from all my fears. Those who look to Him for help will be radiant with joy; no shadow of shame will darken their faces. The Lord will set us free from fear!”

His words fell on deaf ears, for they had lost their fear of the Lord. Earthquakes came and shook their confidence. But when the rubble was cleared away, the warning was forgotten and they returned to their old ways.

“Listen, you people of Israel!” Amos cried in anguish. “Listen to this funeral song I am singing!” His voice rose in a sad lament to the virgin Israel’s fall from grace, never to rise again. He sang of her lying abandoned on the ground with no one to help her up.

People came out of their houses, peered down from their windows, paused in their work to listen, for his voice was like that of the Lord, beautiful and terrible at the same time. His song echoed in the gates and then drifted on the wind as he left the city and walked slowly, shoulders slumped, to his cave.

And the people talked among themselves.

“I hope he never comes back.”

“I wish he would go away.”

“Someone should go out there and shut him up for good.”

“He never has anything good to say to us.”

“Doom and gloom. That’s all he’s about.”

“All he ever does is tell us what he thinks we’re doing wrong.”

Amos sat inside his cave, head in his hands, shoulders shaking with sobs. “Oh, Lord, oh, Lord. Turn their hearts to soft clay. Please, Lord . . . ”

But he already knew the answer. The people had turned away. Their hearts were hardened.

And God was storing up wrath for the day to come.

Amos walked the hills. He looked out over the land. Bethel stood proud in the distance.

Why are Your people so stubborn, Lord?

Why do they turn privilege into perversion? They don’t even know right from wrong anymore. Their homes are filled with possessions they’ve stolen from others. Looters! That’s what they are. Thieves and brigands. Godless women. Hypocrites. They laugh at me when I warn them of what will happen to them. They refuse to believe Your Word. You, the Living God who created heaven and earth. How can they be so foolish as to think their idols can save them?

Amos rubbed his face in disappointment. He had failed. Nothing he had said had made any difference in the way they lived.

Maybe if he had been a more learned man, or more eloquent or forceful or persuasive in his speech, they might have listened.

How long, O Lord, You have weighed me down with love for these people. How long must I stay and see how they turn their backs on You? I am crushed by their sins, burdened by their complaints, awash with tears over their rebellion! When will You let me go home?

God had given them opportunity after opportunity to turn away from their false gods and pagan worship.
Repentance
was a foul word in their mouths. “Repent of what?” they said, convinced their wealth would save them. They called for the Day of the Lord to come and had no idea that when it came it would sweep over them and blow them away like chaff before the wind.

They’re like children,
Amos thought,
holding Your hand while plotting mischief. They think You’ll do nothing to them because You chose them out of all the people of the earth as Your possession. But will a father ignore the disrespect of his children? Will he allow his children to spit in his face? If a human father will not allow it, why should they think the Lord God will?

Shoulders heaving, he sobbed. He had told them the truth and been reviled. And they went on trampling the poor among them. Their leaders continued to extort bribes and repress justice. Many grew lazy and complacent, lounging in luxury, indulging themselves on choice meat, and singing songs about nothing. “Let’s eat, drink, and be merry,” they said to one another, thinking God would not hold them accountable because they were sons of Jacob. To them, Jehovah was just another god among their pantheon, and the least favorite because the Lord God of Israel called for holy living and self-sacrifice for the sake of others. And because of their rejection, their hearts grew harder, their ears deafer. They didn’t know truth from lies.

“I’ve told them, Lord. I’ve told them and told them.”

Those who tried to live righteous lives before God suffered. Beeri, Jerusha, and Hosea had gone back to Jerusalem. Amos hoped they had found others who loved the Lord as they did, who clung to the Torah for wisdom and guidance, who lived to please not men, but God.

Grief and anger filled Amos. He felt torn between loving and hating the people of Bethel.

It is not you they have rejected, Amos. They have rejected Me.

“But, Lord, they don’t understand that they are going to get what they deserve! They will get exactly what they’re asking for: the Day of the Lord. It will come upon them sooner than they think.”

Rather than be victors over their enemies, they would be broken and deserted. The ten tribes would fall, never to rise again. Nine out of ten of their soldiers would die in battle, the rest enslaved. Weeping would be heard everywhere, and still things would go from bad to worse. The Day of the Lord would be a day without a single ray of hope. All their worship would end. Their songs would be silenced. Those who survived the battles would be led away as slaves, their pride and the glory that was Israel obliterated, all their wealth in the hands of their enemies.

Amos knelt, head to the ground. “What do I do, Lord? What do I say to them to turn them away from destruction?”

Stand firm! Continue to tell them the truth!

Colors changed around him. He felt God’s presence enveloping him, comforting while showing him the future. He saw locusts come up out of the ground, vast numbers of them, like an army of millions upon millions, marching, spreading across the land, taking flight. Everything in their path disappeared. The land became a black sea of moving insects gorging on crops, trees, brush, even people.

“O Sovereign Lord!” Amos cried out, hands raised. “Please forgive us or we will not survive, for Israel is so small.”

The vision disappeared.

I will not do it.

Even as Amos thanked God for not obliterating the land and people, another vision filled his mind. Scorching heat bubbled in the bottom of the ocean, sending clouds of steam into the air. Fire raged from the mountainous depths of the sea, rising, rising, a cauldron of bubbles and steam, spreading and devouring the entire land.

“God, no!” Amos cried out in fear. “O Sovereign Lord, please stop or we will not survive, for Israel is so small.”

The Lord spoke in a still, quiet voice:

I will not do that, either.

The fire disappeared and the land was as it had been.

Amos’s heart pounded, for the Lord was not finished showing His great power over all creation. Discipline would come. It must come to turn His people back. Amos prayed for mercy upon them. “Leave a remnant, Lord. Please, leave someone alive to praise Your Name.”

Amos, what do you see?

Amos opened his eyes. “A plumb line.” The Law was the weight on the end of it.

I will test My people with this plumb line. I will no longer ignore all their sins. The pagan shrines of your ancestors will be ruined, and the temples of Israel will be destroyed; I will bring the dynasty of King Jeroboam to a sudden end. Go and tell them!

Ten tribes had aligned themselves with the pagan gods of Canaan, Moab, Ammon, and the rest. Not one in all Israel would stand straight and true beside the law Moses had brought down from Mount Sinai, the law God had written in His own hand.

How could they not see that God pursued them with relentless love? How could they not respond?

Burdened by sorrow, Amos headed back to Bethel.

The people had refused to heed the Lord’s warning. They had planted the wind; now, they would harvest the whirlwind of a righteous, holy God.

Amos knew as he approached the temple that his time was short. Already, men ran up the steps to report his presence.

“Listen to the Word of the Lord!” he shouted. “Recite My law no longer, and don’t pretend that you obey Me. You refuse My discipline and treat My laws like trash!” He listed all their sins, despite catcalls, mock bows, shouted curses, and insults. “Your mouths are filled with wickedness, and your tongues full of lies. While you did all this, I remained silent, and you thought I didn’t care! But now I will rebuke you!”

“He’s speaking against the king!”

A commotion started above and behind him. The temple guards ran down the steps and surrounded him. “You are ordered to be silent!”

“Repent!”

“Shut up!”
Two guards with swords took hold of him.

Amos struggled. “Repent, all of you who ignore the Lord, or He will tear you apart, and no one will help you!”

The guards grappled with him. When he tried to use his staff, two guards wrenched it from his hand.

“Silence him!”

The guards struck him with his own staff. Stunned by the blows, Amos sagged. Guards grabbed him, hauling him up and half carried, half dragged him up the steps. The air chilled inside the temple. He was brought into a large chamber and dropped on the stone floor. He groaned and tried to get up. A guard kicked him. The others joined in. Pain shot through him. He could hardly breathe.

“Enough!”

“What do you want done with him, my lord?”

My lord.
Wrath filled Amos, and he struggled to his feet and faced Amaziah. “There is no other Lord but Jehovah.”

The high priest’s eyes blackened with hatred. “For ten years I’ve suffered your presence in my city, but no more. Finally, you have gone too far. No one is permitted to prophesy against the king!”

“It was the Lord who gave ten tribes to Jeroboam, and what did Jeroboam do to show his gratitude?” Amos sneered. “He set up golden calves and led the people away from the God who blessed him.
Jeroboam’s dynasty will come to an end!
” Struck again, Amos fell. He raised his head with an effort. “The Lord has spoken.”

“The king will hear your words, Amos. Then you will die.”

“Tell him!”
Amos struggled with all his strength, but could not gain freedom. “Tell him what the Lord says. If he has any sense, he will repent and lead his people back to God.”

“Lock him away!”

Heaved into darkness, the door closed and barred behind him, Amos lay facedown on the cold earth. The stench of the fetid palace underworld made his head swim and his stomach heave. A rat scrambled up his leg. He drew back and hit it away. Squeaking, it scurried away to wait for a more opportune time.

Fear gripped Amos by the throat. Never had he been in such darkness. Always there had been the stars overhead. But this blackness had teeth that sank into his soul. He fought to keep from screaming and felt the walls for a way out. There was none.

“God, help me.” Even his whisper echoed softly.

Sinking down, he pressed his back against the wall. He strained to see even a small flicker of light—somewhere, anywhere. Nothing. Only by closing his eyes could he imagine it. A man used to open spaces and the sheepfold, Amos fought against panic with prayer.

“Lord, You are my deliverer. Blow them away like chaff in the wind—a wind sent by the angel of the Lord. Make their path dark and slippery, with the angel of the Lord pursuing them. Although I did them no wrong, they laid a trap for me. Although I did them no wrong, they dug a pit for me. So let sudden ruin overtake them. Let them be caught in their own snares!”

Time passed slowly, but Amos kept his thoughts fixed upon the Lord. He shouted God’s Word into the darkness.
“Return to the Lord!
Giving thanks is a sacrifice that truly honors Him. If you keep to His path, He will reveal to you the salvation of God!” Anger filled him. “The wicked plots against the righteous and gnashes his teeth at him. The Lord laughs at him, for He sees his day is coming!”

A guard raged, “Will you never learn to hold your tongue, Prophet? When the order comes, it will please me to cut it out!”

He was given only enough food and water to keep him alive. Standing in the darkness of his prison, he wailed over the fate of the people. “This is what the Lord says: ‘From among all the families on the earth, I chose you alone. That is why I must punish you for all your sins. Listen, all the earth! I will bring disaster upon My people. It is the fruit of their own sin because they refuse to listen to Me!’”

“Shut up!”

“You boast that you are more powerful than any other nation! You think you can dodge the grave. You say the Assyrians can never touch you, for you’ve made strong towers. Hear, O Israel! You live in a refuge made of lies and deception!”

More guards entered. The torchlight was so bright it blinded him. They cursed him, punched him, and kicked him until he lost consciousness.

When he awakened in darkness, he crawled into a corner and prayed. “Lord, deliver me. . .”