The prophecy of Amos: An introduction and analytical overview
INTRODUCTION
In our “post-modern” culture it is not unusual for a work of
art to incorporate elements from existing works in a variety of styles. Indeed
in recent years the selection and arrangement of precedent material in the
service of a fresh agenda has increasingly played a conscious and calculated
role in many art-forms. Artists have been encouraged to adopt an attitude of
detachment, even irony, towards the original spirit of the source works.
In recent years a similar motive has sometimes been read
back into the work of the biblical authors, as though some purer creative or
revelatory spirit in the most ancient traditions might have been lost or even
betrayed by successive generations of literary redaction. At its best this
approach has shed valuable new light on some thorny issues. Sadly, however,
some commentators have misused such questions as a pretext for trivialising the
most challenging and potentially life-changing aspects of the written Word.
Amos allows little latitude for such a cavalier approach.
There is a rugged integrity in the words of all the Hebrew prophets, a sense of
conviction that is firmly rooted in political, social, economic and spiritual
currents of their day. It is thus hard to find serious inconsistencies between
their message and their life-situation, and even by these standards Amos is
direct and transparent. Yet Amos does not focus on the personal or historical
context of his message in any way that might limit its universality. He is
simply a mouthpiece - one who has heard the Lord roar from Zion (1.2) and is
under a compulsion to echo what he has heard (3.8).
Of course Amos’ main theme was what God was doing at a
particular point in history, and he spoke most directly into that situation.
And yet his has been a perennially “relevant” message into which many
subsequent generations have been able to read their own preoccupations. The
book’s very directness and authenticity, coupled with its relative freedom from
limiting personal or historical reference points, have encouraged its use to
underpin diverse social and political theologies.
However, this can pose a problem when preaching on Amos.
Those already familiar with its distinctive message will probably have their
own firm views on its application. Those coming to it for the first time,
particularly in a middle class setting, may be so affronted by its radicalism
that they reject the message. The book’s air of finality and its grim language
could be disturbing to a congregation that is used to an emphasis on love,
forgiveness and reconciliation. If people are not to put up barriers, preaching
on Amos will call for pastoral sensitivity as well as exegetical integrity.
Nevertheless, Amos needs to be preached. In his remorseless
assault on corruption he communicates vitally important dimensions of God’s
love. Without an understanding of the inevitability and the comprehensive scope
of divine judgement, it is difficult for Christians living in a multi-cultural,
multi-faith society like our own to grasp the unique indispensability of God’s
own self-sacrifice in Christ. And the surest way to draw out this truth, and
avoid being misdirected by our own or others’ preconceptions will be to deal
holistically with Amos and his place in salvation-history.
The aim of the present project has been to give myself just
such an overview of this essential strand of biblical thought. The primary
purpose is to understand the issues Amos himself was confronting and the way he
tackled them, but I also wish to address some of the background issues that
will have a bearing on the way the book is preached or taught. These
include:
Textual
issues: How reliable is the text we are reading?
Historical
issues: How much do we really know about Amos?
What were
the characteristics of the prophetic tradition?
To what
extent was Amos a typical prophet?
Having established the context, I propose to discuss the
specific issues addressed by Amos and the methods he uses to tackle them. I
will then attempt a brief structural analysis aimed at showing how the issues
and methods interact in the flow of the book. Finally I will round off with
some reflections on how Amos might be applied most constructively in the life
of a middle-class church.
BACKGROUND ISSUES
Textual issues
That is not to say that scholars have been unable to find
internal inconsistencies of language and style, although there is limited
agreement on which texts are actually secondary. At one extreme, Wolff has seen
as many as six successive levels of redaction including Deuteronomic and even
post-exilic thought. However, the only sayings widely accepted as secondary are
the title (1.1) and the dispute with Amaziah with its embedded oracle
(7:10-17).
Other passages often cited as later interpolations, but with
less universal agreement, are:
·
Three of the oracles against the nations (Tyre,
Edom and Judah), on the rather tenuous grounds that they lack the conventional
messenger conclusion, “...says Yahweh”.
·
What have been taken to be hymn or liturgical
fragments (e.g. 9.5-6) that serve a purpose in emphasising God’s power and
authority but seem in places to interrupt the logical and stylistic flow.
·
The final salvation promise (9.11-15), which
seems to some readers to belong to a later theological development. This argument
on its own is rather weak, as reconstruction promises are a regular element in
prophetic writing. Suspicions are reinforced, however, by the difference in
tone between this final section and the rest of the book. Indeed as prophecy
the conclusion fits Judah’s known fate better than Israel’s.
In conclusion, it is unlikely that the book of Amos was a
result of a single creative impulse, but whatever processes may have shaped the
book into its final form, most readers find that it has a particularly blessed
unity and integrity.
Historical issues
Amos is regarded as the first of the literary or eponymous
prophets, that is, the first representative of the prophetic tradition to have
his sayings and some biographical material compiled into a book bearing his
name. Earlier prophets had more in common with the shamans and seers of other
contemporary cultures. Whilst they were most likely real people, many of the
stories about them were both mythical in form (e.g. Elijah and the prophets of
Baal) and part of a different moral world (e.g. Elisha and the bear). In
contrast, Amos and his successors are naturalistic and clearly historical
figures who far more reliably point forward to a Christian understanding of God
and his purposes.
Scripture gives us tantalisingly little detail on Amos
himself. If we take the Bible at face value he was “among the shepherds of
Tekoa” (1.1). Tekoa was a well-known town situated in Judah rather than the
northern kingdom, lying a few miles south of Bethlehem on the site of the modern
Khirbet Taqu’a. However, scholars have questioned even this sketchy
information. Koch, for example, connects the prophet with a Galilean Tekoa
recorded in NT times, and argues persuasively that such penetrating social and
political insights must have been informed by an upbringing in the northern
kingdom of Israel.
In contrast to Koch, Hubbard accepts the scriptural
particulars more or less at face value, and assumes that Amos’ Judaic origin
was one of the reasons his message fell on deaf ears in Israel (a view
supported by a straight reading of 7.12). This is a useful reminder that
rigorous scholarship does not always have to take a deconstructionist approach.
Nevertheless, given questions about the authenticity of 7.10-17, it would be
unwise to be too dogmatic about the Judaic connection. It is worth bearing in
mind that if this and the other questioned passages were later additions then
they were almost certainly the work of scribes in or from Jerusalem.
Although the historical and political context of Amos’
ministry is no more particularised in the text than the prophet’s personal
details, most evidence suggests that he delivered his oracles in the northern
kingdom of Israel during the reign of Jeroboam II (BC 793-753). Some
commentators have concluded that his recorded ministry took place over no more
than two years in the range BC 760-755, and the crystallisation into a final
written form probably took place shortly afterwards.
A more crucial question about Amos is his trade. It is
probably stretching the linguistic evidence to suggest as some scholars have
done that “shepherd” indicates a pastoral vocation. Nevertheless, he shows
great sophistication and originality of thought as well as encyclopaedic
geo-political awareness. These attributes suggest that he was probably more
than a mere herdsman (despite his claim in 7.14), but do not rule out the
possibility that he was a prosperous gentleman farmer. It is misleading to
think of the Judaean Tekoa as a poor and primitive backwater. Olive oil from
Tekoa is said to have been the most highly prized in the ancient world,
bringing the town prosperity and close links with the Jerusalem Temple.
Furthermore the town has been associated with wisdom at various points in
history. It was in Tekoa that Joab found a “wise woman” to play mind games with
King David over the return of Absalom (2Sam 14.2), and the town would later be
home to the great Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai, the father of Jewish mysticism (2nd
century C.E.)
The most important biographical question of all, in terms of
the way we will assess the words of Amos, is the extent to which he was a
product of the cultic system. His intellectual reach and much of his language
suggests roots in the cult. The traditional assumption that he was a charismatic
outsider is part of a rather discredited concept that the nebiim (the most widely used word for prophets in the Hebrew
scriptures) were almost by definition charismatic figures set in a permanently
adversarial relationship with the priesthood. On the other hand Amos is
bitterly hostile to cultic spirituality, and he vehemently disowns the title of
nabi (7.14).
The most satisfying theory is that Amos was a renegade from
within a prophetic establishment associated with either the Temple at Jerusalem
or the shrine at Bethel. There are several plausible clues:
- His
putative rural upbringing. He would have seen first hand the spiritual and
socio-economic alienation that resulted from exploitation and
dispossession of smallholders by wealthy landowners.
- His
lack of excitability. His visions are vivid enough, but he gives every
sign of a cold and calculating appraisal of the destructive trends visible
in society. This suggests that he could have seen through a more
experiential emphasis among his peer group, disowned their complicity in
the many abuses, and foreseen a doom to which they were blind.
- A
final and extremely powerful exhibit is the change of tone between his
second and third visions (7.4-6,7-9). This is not conclusive, but it is
tempting to interpret the shift in Amos’ perspective on the coming
judgement as an expression of a deteriorating relationship with Amaziah
and the rest of the religious establishment. He may have given up hope at
this point of being able to change the direction of the community from the
inside by negotiation, and only then accepted that the disaster was
inevitable.
In conclusion, while keeping due regard for the breadth of
scholarly theories, the simplest hypothesis that fits the evidence is that Amos
was a of Judaean origin. He may have been the renegade product of a Temple- or
shrine-centred prophetic establishment, compelled by his own unforgettable
vision of Yahweh’s mishpat (justice)
and sedaqa (righteousness) to turn
the full force of his intellect and training on the injustice and
unrighteousness of the very system that had produced him.
How distinctive was the message of
Amos?
No one writes in a cultural vacuum, and there is clear
evidence that Amos and his successors in the prophetic tradition drew ideas and
literary forms from a wide field, both geographically and historically. They
each imposed a distinctive emphasis, but it was always ultimately Yahweh’s
agenda. Just one strong argument in favour of supernatural inspiration is the
remarkable consistency of their collective body of thought across several
generations – not just for the 250 years or so (roughly BC 750-500) that the
literary prophets held sway, but for as long again beforehand under the kings
and before that to some extent in the ministry of the Judges. Thus while the
message of Amos is distinctive in some key respects, much that can be said
about him is generally true of the literary prophets, and it will be helpful to
approach the particular issues and methods of Amos’ ministry through an
overview of this peer group.
Christians may be surprised on investigating the prophets
for the first time to find that their message had little to do with personal
salvation, or even with individual morality except insofar as individuals are
particles in the waves of history that the prophets intuitively saw unfolding.
Moreover, the prophetic spirit had surprisingly little to do with foretelling
the future, except insofar as the future is the inescapable consequence of the
present.
Thus for the most part the prophets did not give absolute
predictions about future events in human history. Rather their gift
(nonetheless divinely inspired) was to extrapolate from contemporary trends and
warn of the consequences if these were allowed to go unchecked. In other words
the prophets’ main point seems to have been not what was going to happen, but
what they could see happening and where it was going to lead. The purpose
cannot have been prediction, since the purpose of the warning was usually to
bring about such a change of heart as would avert the impending doom.
It is important to state one proviso, however: There was an
undercurrent of resignation in all the prophetic writings – a hint of reluctant
acceptance that repentance was not going to take place on a large enough scale
to avert disaster. There were of course repeated and glorious pictures of
future reconciliation and reconstruction when the judgement had run its course,
but the fate of the Israelite nation-state of the prophets’ own era was
implicitly sealed. Thus while it is conventional to contrast the inevitability
of judgement in Amos with a greater stress on the call to repentance in some
other prophetic writings, I think too much has been read into this difference
in emphasis.
By the same token, there is no conclusive reason to see the
final salvation promise in Amos 9 as inconsistent with the rest of his message.
Berith as such may not feature in his
lexicon, but the whole of his vision is underpinned by mainstream covenant
theology in which a key recurring theme is the salvation of a remnant when
God’s anger has run its course. As with the issue of inevitability referred to
in the preceding paragraph, the difference in emphasis between Amos and later
prophets is more than just a matter of personal style, but fundamentally there
is much less divergence than some commentators have tried to portray.
Another crucial point of convergence between the nebiim was their intense and exclusive
Yahwism. This bond was probably the single most important coherent thread in the
corporate body of prophetic thought, and it is more than likely that the
prophetic strand developed in response to the syncretistic spiritual climate of
Canaan. Indeed it is even possible that the prophetic school grew out of
interaction between the Hebrew priesthood and shamanistic traditions already
established in the region. It is, after
all, hard to find any material trace of the prophetic thought-world among the
Israelites before the settlement in Canaan. In fact the most nabi-like figure in the Bible up to the
time of Samuel is Balaam, the seer of Pethor on the Euphrates (see in
particular Nu 24). As the Israelites became more established in the Land, the
prophets were required to act as advocates for the God of the Patriarchs in a
society that had increasingly been shaped by political expediency, economic
muscle and spiritual compromise.
It is interesting to indulge in chicken-and-egg speculation
here. Some commentators choose to interpret the prophetic message primarily as
a moral and ethical one. However, it is fundamental to both Jewish and
Christian thought that spirituality precedes morality. We can only aspire to
being “good” because God himself is Goodness. Sin is bad primarily because God
is holy. It is thus fair to assume that whatever the ostensible frame of
reference of a prophet (and Amos’ certainly appears to be morality), the
fundamental issue is one of holiness and Israel’s responsibilities under the
covenant. The fact that Amos rails against the religious establishment has
blinded some commentators to the fact that a proper response to Yahweh’s
self-revelation is the only possible foundation for either repentance or
post-judgmental reconstruction.
So if the fundamental disease is spiritual rather than
ethical, what is the prophet’s prescription? Is it a return to a purer form of
religion? Some commentators have affirmed precisely that, interpreting Amos’
main target as corrupt religious practices. However, this view does not seem do
justice to the scope of Amos’ vision – in fact it may be an attempt to duck the
issues. Is Amos then calling for a moral reformation? In a way, and yet however
much the moral turpitude has saturated all levels of society, it is clear that
Amos focuses the bulk of his ire on the political, religious and economic
leadership. Those responsible for the dissolution are those whose decisions
affect the life and livelihood of others.
To clarify this theme of executive responsibility, Koch
brings out the extent to which the national soul of Israel was interlinked with
God’s gift of the Land. Unless all in society could live out the role in
relation to the Land that God had ordained, neither individuals nor the nation
as a whole can fulfil their destiny. Tragically, the institutions of the
nation-state had become instruments of oppression and stimuli to apostasy.
Personal conscience was so trapped within these political and religious
paradigms that spiritual and moral reform was obstructed even at the level of
the individual heart. The solution was
nothing less than their complete overthrow of the political and religious
establishment.
It is therefore reasonable to think that Amos in common with
other prophets was advocating a political solution (albeit one framed by the
covenant with Yahweh). Does that mean that the prophets were political
radicals? Revolutionaries? Their own place in the cultic establishment would
suggest otherwise, but that is to frame the question in essentially western
terms. There is no shortage of evidence that prophets were willing to manipulate,
coerce, vilify and even topple heads of state who put political and economic
expediency before Yahwistic purity. Omri is a good example of a ruler whose
political and religious reputations were at odds. (Contrast 1Ki 16.25-26 with
extra-biblical evidence that his 12-year reign was a time of peace and
prosperity).
The closest parallel to the prophets’ patterns of thought I
can find in the modern world is in the Middle East, where both conservative
ayatollahs and ultra-orthodox rabbis still subjugate what we in the west would
regard as sound social and economic policy to the dictates of what they
perceive as a divinely prescribed order. They may be deluded, but outwardly
these provocative Jewish and Moslem elders may give some useful clues as to how
the biblical prophets addressed the political issues of their day.
THE DISTINCTIVE MESSAGE OF AMOS
The God who is speaking
The God who reveals himself through Amos is more complex
than at any previous stage in Israel’s understanding. On the one hand, he is
YHWH (Yahweh), the lofty and separate God who spoke to the people via Moses
from the mountain-top, the God whose simple word (the Hebrew dabar incorporates rich additional
shades of activity and tangible substance) brings the present and the future
into being. On the other hand, the priorities of Amos’ God seem to resonate
strongly with the kind of Elohist tradition conjectured by Wellhausen. This
picture of God is moralistic rather than cultic, universal rather than tribal.
He seems already to be prefiguring his later self-revelation to the exilic
community (cf. Ezekiel) as a God who is present everywhere and willing to
reveal himself anywhere. And yet in all this expanded revelation, he is still
recognizable as El-Shaddai, the intensely personal God of Abraham, Isaac and
Jacob.
“No” to God’s people
Like the revealed God himself, the message contains numerous
strands, interwoven so densely that it is difficult to know where to start.
However, at least one writer (Crenshaw) has summed up the whole book as a
comprehensive “No!” uttered by God to his own chosen people. They have been
privileged to be at the heart of God’s purposes on earth, but their slide into
degeneracy has eliminated their last chance of fulfilling God’s purposes for
them. In short, the people have broken the covenant. It is not that God is
being arbitrarily unforgiving. The problem is that the leaders of the people,
through a process that will be examined in greater detail, have put themselves
and their subjects beyond rehabilitation. In consequence they are to be swept
away. On one level the land that God has given them will rise up and break
them. On another level, the military might in which they have put their trust
will fail them, leaving them defenceless against invasion. Ultimately their
king will die without leaving a successor and the leading citizens will be
carried into exile. And God is declaring through Amos that this will all be his
doing.
Israel’s social and economic life – a denial of God’s justice
A coherent theme running through the Law and all covenant
theology is that neither individual nor national prosperity can be sought at
the expense of social justice. The God who decreed jubilee for people, animals
and even plants cannot tolerate the abuse of people or even objects for the
sake of greed.
Against this principle, Israel has degenerated to the point
where people are preying on one another, and the responsibility for this decay
is placed squarely with Israel’s leaders (the rationale for this executive
responsibility has already been set out above). Examples of specific offences
are:
- Enslaving
for debts (2.6)
- Denying
justice to the disadvantaged (2.7-8)
- Harsh
taxes or levies (2.8b)
- Corrupting
the holy men and silencing the prophets (2.12)
- Extravagant
lifestyle at the expense of the poor (4.1)
- Failure to heed previous warnings (4.6-11)
However, these and other offences named in the book are
little more than specimen charges designed to illustrate the root of the
problem. The essence of Yahweh’s complaint is that a highly developed legalism
is being used as a pretext for systematic injustice. The trend is towards the
inevitable alienation of a large segment of the community from the spiritual,
economic and social unity to which they are entitled under the covenant. In modern
terms, they have been written off as an underclass with no stake in the system.
The nation is divided against itself – it can implode without the need of a
military adversary.
Israel’s religious life – a denial of God’s righteousness
The censure of religion is harder to explain than the social
condemnation, and many words have been expended debating whether Amos was
really opposed to all cultic worship. On the one hand, those who would search
for God entirely within the realms of moral advancement will note with
satisfaction that Amos went far beyond the usual domain of the nebiim, which was to condemn idolatry
and other corrupt religious practices. Amos condemned not just these but also
the very practices that the other prophets prescribed, the festivals and
sacrifices that pious Yahwists believed were God-ordained.
On the other hand, there is no clear-cut evidence that Amos
was against anything but the misapplication
of the religious impulse. However, he saw with unsurpassed clarity that the
worship of his contemporaries was corrupt to its heart and incapable of
rehabilitation. Worst of all, by providing even the purest-hearted with a
morally cheap means of maintaining outward obedience to God, it had deadened
their consciences to God’s call to righteousness. In a manner curiously
reminiscent of the NT concept of blasphemy against the Holy Spirit, even the
most pious of Amos’ contemporaries were conditioned to condemn as blasphemous
the prophetic voice that represented
their only hope of salvation.
The parallel economic and religious perversions put justice
and righteousness beyond the reach of all, from the highest to the lowest. Koch
helpfully brings out the extent to which Amos’ culture saw mishpat and sedaqa as
animate forces – almost personalities – that flowed from God through human
spheres of activity via the Temple or shrine practices. Cultic worship and the
life of the land were thus tightly interrelated. Tragically, the cult was no
longer acting as a channel of grace but blocking it, and thus Israel’s shrine
culture was not merely a passive accessory to the social and economic
dissolution of the nation but a prime cause of it. “Let justice flow like a
river, and righteousness like a never-failing stream” – this was great poetry
but it was also sound theology. Tragically, it was too late for the flow of mishpat
and sedaqa to be a blessing, and when God released the waters they
would bring destruction.
The Dynamics of Judgement
The absolute sovereignty of Yahweh is emphasised in the
multi-dimensional unfolding of his judgement. The destruction of Israel is
executed simultaneously on four levels that bring to mind the curses of Genesis
3, viz. man’s alienation from God, his fellow man and the earth. The covenant
blessings have been an oasis of healing in a fallen world, and the fallen order
is about to reassert itself among God’s formerly chosen people:
1). A divine
and supernatural level. This is the primary aspect of judgement, in which God
personally acts and takes responsibility for the entire process. He repeatedly
declares, “I will...” (e.g. 8.9-10). The remaining levels on which judgement is
to be understood have an element of almost mechanical causality, but the
language throughout suggests that Yahweh is moving actively in each scheme. The
supreme irony is that the “Day of Yahweh” that they are looking for will be a
time not of light and victory but of darkness and disaster.
2). An environmental level, in which the earth
itself rises up (8.8) against those who have turned their back on the covenant.
This could be seen as a natural result of the breach of good rural economics
laid down in the Mosaic Law, but the language suggests that the environmental
turmoil is an outworking of God’s presence.
3). A moral level, in which the violent acts
committed come fall circle in retribution. Once gain, this could be seen as an
inevitable result of alienation amongst the dispossessed classes, but the
language rather stresses God’s sovereign activity.
4). A geopolitical level, in which God raises up a
hostile military adversary to wreak destruction. Assyria is not specified, but
Amos foretells with devastating accuracy how the seat of government and
religion will be targeted (8.14), the leaders exiled (5.27) and the population
decimated (6.9-10). The armies will naturally be destroyed (5.3), and once
again the outcome could be described in rational terms as the inevitable result
of fecklessness and complacency, but for the fact that Amos stresses God’s
activity.
AMOS’ METHOD
The bulk of the book is taken up with five visions and a few
(mostly brief) oracles against various nations or classes of people. Up to two
dozen literary styles and devices have been identified or conjectured, and
opinions differ over the exact classification of these, but there is a general
consensus on the following main techniques:
Judgement speeches:
Poetic narratives, mostly in the divine first person, of which the substance is
accusation and threat. There are conventional messenger formulae that open and
close many of these sayings. These speeches carry the bulk of the message.
Visions: Vividly
impressionistic, sometimes surreal imagery of a sort normally associated with
ecstatic mental states. These passages depict the inevitability of judgement
with a clarity that no words could match, but they require the judgement
speeches to elucidate their meaning. A major purpose is to authenticate Amos’
credentials by establishing him as part of a recognized prophetic tradition,
even though he himself seems to repudiate the title.
Biography or
narrative: A few short passages, some of which are in the first person. To
the extent that these passages are objective they are evidently the work of an
editorial hand, but such objectivity cannot be taken for granted. Indeed the
Amos/Amaziah conflict in particular (7.10-17) is an integral part of the
prophetic writing with its own embedded oracle and judgement. Thus the
biographical form may be no more than a rhetorical device.
Salvation Promise:
While Amos’ judgement is unconditional, it may not be universal. The hope in
this section (9.11-15) is in contrast to the rest of the book, but there is no
conclusive reason to see it as a later addition by a more conventional writer.
God is always loving, and there is always hope for a faithful remnant after
judgement has run its course. However, the textual and exegetical difficulties
of this section are among the most severe in the whole book. It could be the
work of a later Judaic editor. Moreover, given that Amos was probably from
Judah himself, there is a chilling possibility that this passage is not
intended to give the recipients of the message hope but to make their
humiliation complete: it may be saying that of all the people of Israel, only
the house of David (i.e. Judah) will survive to inherit God’s promises to the
Patriarchs.
A STRUCTURAL SUMMARY
This brief
analysis cannot do more than scratch the surface of Amos’ dense and
multi-layered thematic development. It is intended to show the interaction
between the principal themes and literary methods set out above, and for this
reason it is deliberately based on an open reading of the biblical text rather
than on professional commentaries. The point is not so much to analyse the book
as to assess its effect.
1.1-2
Title and Introduction
Amos is
briefly introduced, but as the prophet speaks we are to understand that Yahweh
is roaring like a lion – simultaneously declaring his sovereignty and issuing a
warning.
1.3 -
2.5 A series of oracles against
Israel’s neighbours
Amos’
message proper opens with oracles against some of the surrounding nations. It
only includes peoples that had some kinship with Israel (e.g. the descendants
of Lot and Esau) or been part of David’s “greater Israel”. Thus whatever
hostilities might have been current, these tribes would all have had cultural
and economic links with Israel and some familiarity with its traditional
spiritual and moral values. They are:
Damascus (1.3-5)
Gaza (1.6-8)
Tyre (1.9-10)
Edom (1.11-12)
The
Ammonites (1.13-15)
The Moabites (2.1-3)
Judah (2.4-5)
Each of the messages begins with a formula familiar from
wisdom literature (cf. Pro 30.15-31): “For three transgressions of [e.g.
Damascus] and for four, I will not revoke the punishment”. In each case only
one specimen offence is mentioned, and this offence is always some form of
gross savagery in warfare that would be objectionable even by decent human
standards. In every case an appropriate judgement is declared, and we can
imagine Amos’ original hearers nodding with approval through this section -
prophecies of doom against the nation’s enemies were a traditional part of a
prophet’s role.
It is unlikely that this sequence was inserted just for
dramatic effect – the crimes of the nations were real and their respective
punishments are credible in relation to subsequent events. Nevertheless, this
sequence of indictments must have nicely lowered the listeners’ defences in
preparation for the blow that was about to land, and it may be easiest to see
the brief final oracle against Israel’s sister kingdom of Judah as primarily a
transitional device, bringing the focus one step closer to Israel itself.
2.6-16 Introductory prophecy
against Israel
“For three transgressions of Israel...” This must have come as utterly unexpected. Amos was part
of a long prophetic tradition, and the use of his position to challenge
Yahweh’s own people was unprecedented. He drives home the emphasis on Israel’s
sin by actually listing four offences rather than merely one. Moreover, these
are not simply gross violations of humanity, but breaches of the higher
standard of morality expected of God’s own people. Debtors are being sold into
slavery (6); justice is being denied to the poor and powerless (7a); there is
unnatural sexual practice (7b); and the apparatus of justice is being abused
for personal gain (8).
It is not certain whether four examples are to be taken
literally, or whether they represent broader categories of disregard for human
dignity, but they are almost certainly intended to illustrate a breach of the
covenant. Worst of all, there is an implication that these abuses are
intertwined with Israel’s religious activity: They are done in God’s name (7b),
in God’s house (8b), beside the altars that were designed for sacrificial worship
(8a).
Amos piles on the shame by reminding his listeners of some
of the blessings that Yahweh has showered on them (9-11). He makes clear that
these offences are only possible because Israel has silenced the voice of
conscience in society. This moral numbness has been achieved by repressing the
pursuit of personal holiness and gagging the prophets (12).
The climax of this section is a threat of punishment. On one
level Amos gives several different pictures of sluggishness or weakness
afflicting the nation’s defenders that could be seen as the logical consequence
of a dissolute lifestyle. On another level, however, it is made clear that
Yahweh himself is acting to crush their rebellion (13-16).
3.1-15 An explanation of Yahweh’s anger and his
method
Why is Yahweh being harder on his own people than on the
surrounding nations? Reference is made to a special relationship between Yahweh
and his people. This must be meant to refer to the covenant, although the usual
term berith is not used anywhere in
Amos. A special responsibility is attached to this privilege, and Israel’s
behaviour is all the more worthy of punishment as a result (1-2).
(The absence of berith
is curious, especially given the strong informative presence of the
covenant in Amos’ message. It is tempting to speculate that the sacred term
might have been dropped in later editing by Judaic scribes on the grounds that
Israel’s break with the covenant dated in their view right back to Jeroboam’s
rebellion.)
Following on from this basic truth about the relationship
between God and Israel, an extended poem (in a repetitive questioning style
familiar from wisdom poetry) highlights in a different way the fact that Yahweh
is taking decisive action in the world. Firstly, Amos himself is only speaking
because God has spoken. Secondly, disaster is occurring only because God’s hand
is at work (3-8).
Amos applies his sermon in a manner that is as relevant to
our circumstances as it was to his own. He points to the tensions, upheavals
and oppression that can so clearly be seen in society. It could not be clearer
that he sees these cracks as a warning sign, and that if unchecked they will
lead to a still greater disaster. The threat of siege by an adversary that was
only implicit in 2.13-16 is now made more explicitly, and as usual there is a
strong logical connection between the crime and the punishment: strongholds
full of violence and robbery will themselves be plundered. Nevertheless, in the
light of verse 6b it is equally clear that God himself is acting in judgement
(9-11).
Finally, a new judgement oracle declares that the
destruction will be almost total. In deliberately shocking language Amos
foresees that the surviving remnant will be like the remains of an animal’s
corpse eaten by wild beasts (an image carrying powerful overtones of ritual
uncleanness for its original audience that will be largely lost on modern
readers). Importantly, the oracle ends with a vital clue as to the where the
chief guilt lies, in that the principal loci of judgement will be the religious
establishment (14) and the assets of the wealthy (15).
4.1-11 A series of brief warnings and reminders
Chapter 4 consists mainly of brief warnings and reminders,
each ending with the conventional messenger formula, “...says Yahweh”:
a). A threat
to the “cows of Bashan”, apparently the wives of the wealthy who are both
leading a luxurious life at the expense of poor and (according to the mores of
the day) overstepping their place in society. They will be led off into slavery
through the broken walls of the city (1-3).
b). The
first explicit statement that the cultic worship is sinful. It is evidently
being conducted for the people’s own gratification rather than Yahweh’s (4-5).
c). Five reminders
that they have ignored minor disasters sent as warnings (6-11):
Food
shortages (6)
Drought
(7-8)
Crop
failures and blights (9)
Diseases
and raids (10)
Natural
disasters (11)
Each of these reminders
ends with the refrain, “...yet you did not return to me”. In this remorseless
rhythm it is once again made clear that God’s hand has been and will continue
to be in every blow to their proud self-sufficiency.
The prophet obliquely makes
his first reference to the “Day of the Lord”, a future time of victory with
both geo-political and eschatological overtones that was a persistent theme in
folk-Judaism. This will be laboured more explicitly in a later chapter, but
Amos is already suggesting that Israel’s meeting with its God will be a day of
disaster (12).
e). A brief
“hymn fragment” or snatch of liturgical worship, probably intended to remind
the reader of God’s majesty and power. This points to Yahweh’s right to
pronounce judgement and his ability to use the physical world over which he is
sovereign as an agency of judgement (13).
5.1-25 An extended lament
Chapter 5 is dominated by a long poem of lamentation over
Israel’s sin and the impending disaster. Many themes and techniques are
interwoven, including a kind of advance obituary, a call to repentance, an
explanation of what God really desires, and various pictures of shame and
disaster. A brief summary follows:
a). Israel
is like a destitute girl with no redeemer or helper – an image of moral shame
as well as poverty (2).
b). The
population will be decimated – an apparent reversal of God’s promises to the
Patriarchs (3).
c). God may still be
found, but not via the doomed shrines (4-5).
d). Those who pervert God’s mishpat and sedaqa are
warned to turn or face destruction (6-7).
(These Hebrew words are
conventionally translated as justice and righteousness, but they have a far
richer meaning in the original language. As explained earlier, these words have
been held to incorporate the sense of an animate force flowing from God that
not only makes human justice and righteousness possible but is also the basis
for a fruitful relationship between Israel and the Promised Land. If this
hypothesis is correct, then it is indispensable to an understanding of the
cause and effect relationship between immorality and the rebellion of the land
which comes out later in the book.)
e). Another fragment of praise comparable to 4.13
(8-9).
f). Because the nation’s prosperity has been built
on injustice and oppression, the wealthy will not be allowed to enjoy the
fruits of their labour (10-15).
g). A clear call to seek justice and
righteousness, as it may still not be too late. It is not clear whether God is
offering to be gracious to the whole of Israel or merely to a future remnant,
but once again he declares his mercy (14-15).
h). A picture of wailing and mourning in every
part of the community, when God “will pass through in the midst” of them.
Another oblique reference to the “Day of Lord”.
i). The first explicit reference to the “Day of
the Lord”. The expected day of light and joy will instead be a time of darkness
and unexpected danger (18-20).
j). A famous passage in which God forcefully
rejects all religious festivals and ritual sacrifices, “but let justice roll
down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream”. A clear
illustration of the Hebrew theology of justice and righteousness referred to
above (21-24).
k). A direct declaration from God that he will
take Israel “into exile beyond Damascus”, as a result of their idolatry (25).
6.1-14 Further judgements against the wealth and
self-reliance of Israel
The first part of chapter 6 continues in lamentation form,
focusing on Israel’s false sense of security (1-3) and its idle rich who will
be the first to go into exile (4-7). Yahweh hates Israel’s pride and self-reliance,
and swears to deliver “the city” to its adversaries (8-9).
The chapter concludes with a poem in a style familiar from
wisdom literature. Once again stressing that Israel has perverted justice and
righteousness, Yahweh declares that he is raising up a nation to oppress them
(11-14).
7.1-9 Amos’ first three visions
Amos introduced each of his visions without drama, with some
variation on the words, “This is what God showed me”. These visions cement his
credentials and provide a chilling picture of judgement.
a). God is
making locusts to devour the crops. Natural disasters are all part of God’s
arsenal, but he relents when Amos pleads for Israel (1-3).
b). God is calling up a shower of fire to eat up
the land, reinforcing the locust vision. Once again Amos pleads for Israel, and
God relents (4-6).
c). God is
holding a plumb line against a wall. Clearly Israel is not meeting his
standards of rectitude. This time God pronounces devastation and there is no
relenting. This has been widely seen as a watershed in Amos’ vision, the point
at which he accepts the need and inevitability of destruction.
7.10-17 The conflict with Amaziah
Most commentators have regarded this narrative passage as a
later addition. Amaziah, the chief priest at the Bethel shrine, reports Amos to
the king for subversive talk. He then orders Amos to take himself away to Judah
and/or to cease prophesying at Bethel. In response Amos sets out his
credentials – he was a simple farmer whom God sent to prophesy to Israel. He is
speaking with the Lord’s authority, and proceeds to pronounce a horrible doom
against the priest who would defy God.
8.1-14 Amos’
fourth vision
Amos sees a basket of summer fruit (1), possibly symbolising
that Israel is ripe for consumption and will soon wither. The book’s longest
and grimmest prophecy of doom then follows. The end has indeed come for Israel
and great woe is in hand (2-3). The people’s heart is not in their observances
(5), and they are dedicated to making money by exploitation and deceit (4,6).
Disaster is inevitable (7-10). The worst aspect will be a famine of hearing the
word of God – something for which they will become desperate (11-12). All
idolaters will be destroyed (13-14).
9.1-15 Amos’ fifth
and final vision
Amos sees the Lord standing beside the altar, the symbolic
point of contact between God and man (1). God calls the roof of the shrine down
on the people’s heads, and declares that no one will escape death. In a
terrifying inversion of Psalm 139, he warns that he will pursue them to the
death (2-4).
A further “hymn fragment” (5-6) bridges the way to the final
sequence. Israel is no different from other nations – sinful kingdoms will be
destroyed. But then comes the first clear promise that Jacob (the common
ancestor of the divided kingdoms) will not be utterly destroyed (7-8). All the
sinners among God’s people will be massacred, but the kingdom of David will be
re-established (9-12). In a picture of melting sweetness, God promises to
restore the fortunes of his people Israel. The cities will be rebuilt and the
crops replanted, and they will never again be taken from the land that God has
given them (13-15).
Is this a promise to restore the whole of Israel – including
the northern tribes - that has yet to be fulfilled? A more figurative prophecy
pointing to the reign of Jesus Christ? Or is it a final humiliation to the
northern kingdom, promising that only the house of David (i.e. Judah) will
survive? All these views have been argued, and ultimately it is all speculation.
The one sure message of this hopeful conclusion is that God is merciful to
those who repent, He is and will always be victorious, and those who are his
will share in his victory.
SOME REFLECTIONS ON THE CHALLENGE OF APPLYING AMOS
I have yet to hear this challenging and beautifully written
segment of scripture treated in a church context in the completely honest and
edifying manner it deserves.
My wife and I have taken part in two separate house group
series on Amos, several years apart and in different churches. In each study,
there was a feeling that we were missing something. Both sets of questions were
loaded towards a literal application of Amos’ words to our own situation, and
we came away on each occasion with little more than a reinforced sense that God
hates injustice and immorality. That is a fair conclusion as far as it goes,
but there was a lingering sense that we had failed to account for the
exceptional severity and finality of the Amos’ language. The natural solution
was to explain these attributes away, either as poetic exaggeration or (more
dangerously still) as immature theology. Thus we achieve the seemingly
contradictory result of watering the message down through an over-literal
reading.
It is almost too easy to identify the abuses documented in
Amos with various ills in our own civilisation. We can apply his words to the
perpetuation of inequality and the denial of human dignity in the capitalist
system as a whole. We can relate them to party political issues like
progressive taxation or law and order, to sexual mores, to abusive personal
relationships. At the other end of the spectrum we can fit them to
geo-political concerns such as war and third world poverty. And as far as it
goes this moral dimension is probably the best place to start in applying Amos
today.
The danger is that we will read our own conscience agenda
into a book that has a very clear and distinct agenda of its own. I do not
think we will tap the full power of Amos’ message as long as we interpret it as
no more than a tirade against the values of the pagan/secular world outside our
doors. The real horror of Amos to his original hearers was that via Damascus,
Edom and Judah he progressively brought the focus of his vision closer and
closer to home. Ultimately his purpose was to challenge the pride, the
complacency, the religiosity and the most dearly held traditions of God’s own
people. This is not to say that any of our practices in the Christian Church
are intrinsically wrong. But unless we constantly open ourselves up to God’s
Spirit, and test our assumptions against his written Word, we may not notice a
drift in our priorities until we have rendered ourselves as unserviceable as
Israel.
That would be a hard message to deliver from the pulpit in
most of our churches, and life is further complicated for preacher by the
difficulty of finding individual short passages in Amos that do justice to his
integral vision. The fact that I have never heard anyone even trying to preach
on Amos suggests that the difficulties of doing so may be quite intimidating.
There are audiences that would revel in such a challenging message (“Word
Alive” comes to mind). However, for the average parish congregation it would
probably be more helpful to allow the text to ask open-ended questions rather
than to make dogmatic assertions. It could also be helpful to base part of a
sermon on a more familiar NT passage that is thematically linked to the section
of Amos under discussion.
The following are just a couple of examples of the sort of
provocative but positively-framed question that could be raised in a sermon or
a Bible study:
What is true worship?
What are God’s real priorities for
his people, then and now?
How has God communicated these
priorities, in the OT and in the NT?
How well are these priorities
lived out in our private and church family life?
What is true love?
How has God shown his hatred of
sin (OT/NT)?
How has God shown his love for
sinners (OT/NT)?
How can these twin emphases inform
our private and church family life?
No approach will (or should) ever completely sidestep the
horror of Amos’ message, but I am sure there is scope to use the book in a way
that honours God without scaring people away from drawing the proper
conclusions. We can bring his love and his justice together in the crucifixion.
We can point forward to the final Day of the Lord as a spur to missions of
outreach and mercy. And behind all that we can draw out a clear picture of God
working behind all human history, inspiring human joy and sharing human pain as
he realises his glorious victory over sin and death.
So finally, should Amos lead us to the conclusion that God
threatens corrupt and abusive institutions with judgement in the movement of
history? That is an arguable but controversial view. It can be proposed with
greater confidence that, regardless of political and religious allegiances,
wise men down the ages have seen a consistent and remorseless correlation
between certain permissive socio-economic patterns and their painful
consequences. Perhaps the key value of Amos to us is that he sets out those
causalities very clearly and meshes them into a theological framework that
perfectly complements a proper Christian preoccupation with salvation, personal
morality and above all the self-giving love of God. Of course there was never
meant to be any dichotomy – the inter-relationship of personal faith and social
responsibility is one of the core principles of Christ’s teaching on the
Kingdom of God.
© John C. Bailey, 2001
© John C. Bailey, 2001
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