Amos 7:10-9:15

After several chapters of prophecy, there is a shift to narrative in the form of a confrontation between Amos and Amaziah, a priest of Bethel, the Israelite shrine near the border with Judah. Amaziah reports Amos for treason and tells him to flee to Judah.* This is also an indication that the religion of Israel at the time was explicitly a political tool of their monarchy, which, to be fair, has often been true of many religions throughout history.

*Not back to Judah, which is interesting, though I’m hesitant to split such hairs through translation.

Amos identifies himself as being outside the normal families of prophets, as “a herdsman and a dresser of sycamore trees.” This is similar, but not identical to the profession mentioned at the beginning of the book. Amos then curses Amaziah, but we do not receive any information as to whether he then also left for Judah. Perhaps this is when he moved to Tekoa and changed careers, as indicated in 1:1. Amos as an Israelite who then flees to Judah after prophesying makes more sense to me than the other way around.

There are a couple tidbits in the story I find interesting. Amos uses the phrase “my people Israel” to describe the Lord’s perspective, which is either an indication of some religious unity between the two kingdoms or Amos’s identification with the people of the northern kingdom. He also refers to Israel, or possibly the royal family, as “the house of Isaac.” This is the second time Isaac has been referenced in the book; both times the connotation has been extremely negative, more so than Israel or Jacob, and I wish I knew why.

The next chapter and a half, from Amos 8:1-9:10, contains more oracles, curses, and gloom. We do find out that the Israelite religion contained the sabbath and new moon festivals (8:5). There is also a very interesting verse in 9:7.

“Are you not like the Ethiopians to me, O people of Israel? Says the Lord.

Did I not bring Israel up from the land of Egypt, and the Philistines from Caphtor and the Arameans from Kir?”

-Amos 9:7

This suggests, of course, a more universal approach to religion in which the relationship between the Lord and the people of Israel is not unique but is replicated among other peoples. This would likely be unpopular among the intended audience, as it would suggest their claims of exceptionalism to be false. And if we are not exceptional, who are we? And how can we curry divine favor? Amos, at least, has given his answer to that last question at length, and he ends with some very faint hope for the righteous of Israel, a group he clearly believes is not that large.

There is then a final prophecy in verses 11-15 that many scholars believe was added to the text later. It is extremely positive compared to the rest of the book, describing a utopian future in which “the one who plows shall overtake the one who reaps, and the treader of grapes the one who sows the seed; the mountains shall drip sweet wine, and all the hills shall flow with it (9:13).” 

Two concrete pieces of evidence of Judahite authorship are the references to the “booth of David,” in a book that has not shown any indication of the importance of the Davidic line or rightful king of a united Israel, and the “remnant of Edom.” In fact, Amos has not clearly indicated that the kingdoms should be united or that the Lord even cares about the identity of the king. Edom, as mentioned earlier, was on the border of Judah, not Israel, and is only mentioned at the bookends, not during the meat of the prophecies.

How would I describe Amos? Bleak, apocalyptic, intense, moral. The focus on brutal punishment certainly seems askance to modern eyes and incongruous with some of later Christian thought. Yet the causes of the punishment are mostly concrete and justifiable - war crimes, theft, economic inequality. The outlines of the story told by Amos - of a group of people moving from Egypt, gaining their own land, attaining wealth and power, creating a complex religion that acts in service of the political hierarchy, and then using their prosperity to oppress others - is extremely depressing because it rings so true. It’s certainly a fascinating, even romantic, beginning for a religion - an outsider bringing a stinging moral critique to the leadership of his day on behalf of the poor. 

Next time, I’ll look at a much more problematic prophet. We’ll see how Hosea reacts to a similar set of circumstances and tells a much different story about the people of Israel.