Crisis of decision
Commentary
A crisis of decision is presented in the lessons for today, especially the first and third readings. We see in those two passages two ways that people may avoid hearing the word of God when it calls them to such a crisis. The bald rejection of God's word exemplified by Jeroboam seems grounded in an attitude that says, "I don't have to listen if I don't want to." True enough, but covering one's ears is obviously a very temporary solution. The lawyer who encounters Jesus is more subtle. He has found that theology offers a way out -- the word needs to be interpreted, and if one is creative, it can be interpreted in ways that render the crisis of decision unnecessary. Jesus suggests a different hermeneutic, one that interprets scripture from the perspective God is most likely to favor. Add to this the eschatological concern for reading the present in light of the future (the message of our second lesson) and we have a fine recipe for enabling God's invasive words to do their work.
Amos 7:7-17
No gospel here! The lesson begins with an oracle of pure doom, reports the response (and lack of response) to it, and then repeats the condemnation. The context for this drama is the prophetic career of Amos during the reign of Jeroboam. The date is around 750 B.C. The fall of Israel, which comes definitively in 722, is on the horizon.
The initial scene features the prophet's vision of a plumb line. What's that? Dust off your old Bible dictionary and you'll discover that it is a device used for determining whether a wall is vertically straight. It consisted of a lead weight attached to a cord and worked on the basic principle of gravity. If the ground shifted or for some other reason a wall began to lean, it would no longer be parallel to the plumb line. What could be done? Well, in some cases, the wall would just have to be torn down.
This vision is the third in a series of four received by the prophet Amos. See also the visions of locusts (7:1-3), devouring fire (7:4-6), and the basket of summer fruit (8:1-3). They differ in content and form, but the common theme is that Israel's fate is sealed. The covenant has been broken beyond repair. Here, God says, "I will never again pass them by," probably a reference to the Passover. The angel of death will not pass over Israel as in the past. Israel has become God's enemy, as surely as Egypt was in the days of the exodus.
The second major scene concerns Amaziah, the tattletale priest who runs to the king and reports what Amos is saying. We do not hear the king's response, but are left to assume that Amaziah's words to Amos in verse 12 represent the gist of it (with expletives deleted perhaps). It is interesting that the king fears God enough not to lay a hand on Amos. He just wants to be rid of him. "I think Judah needs prophets. Why don't you go there?" Amaziah is also insulting with his words, "Earn your bread there," implying that Amos is only in this for the money. Actually, of course, prophets who want to get rich do not usually go about telling people God is going to destroy them -- no matter what! I also think it ironic that Amaziah insists, "Bethel is the king's sanctuary!" since the very word Beth-el means "house of God." (Have you ever had parishioners complain about what they don't want to see happening in their church? Whose church is it?)
Of course, what is completely missing here is any reflection on whether what the prophet says might be true. The concern is only that these words are hard to bear (v. 10). Therefore, we don't want to hear them. What if Jeroboam had listened? What if he had repented? What if ...? We'll never know.
The final verses seal Israel's doom by reaffirming the Lord's decision with specific reference to the horror and shame that awaits Jeroboam and his family. The declaration, "I am no prophet, nor a prophet's son," in verse 14 is in response to Amaziah's suggestion that he "earn his bread" as a prophet somewhere else. He is not a prophet by profession. He did not choose this line of work -- God called him. This is his way of saying, "You shouldn't be worrying about me; you should be worrying about the one who called me."
Colossians 1:1-14
The letter to the Colossians opens, after a brief salutation, with prayers and exhortations for the recipients. Prayers of thanksgiving (vv. 3-8) are followed by prayers of intercession (vv. 9-11) and then by an exhortation to give thanks (vv. 12-14). Thus, the supplications are sandwiched between the praise in a chiasm of celebration. Not a bad pattern for worship.
The thanksgiving makes use of the familiar triad of faith, hope, and love (see 1 Corinthians 13:13; 1 Thessalonians 1:3). But what is interesting here is that hope is made the foundation of the other two. It is a future hope, an eschatological hope that gives birth to faith and to love. Specifically, the hope laid up for the Colossians in heaven (v. 3) is said to generate their faith in Christ Jesus and their love for all the saints (v. 4). The author (Paul?) goes on to identify this hope as the content of "the word of truth" and "the gospel." We may be a little reticent to make such an identification. Most of us have been taught not to equate the gospel with the future promise of life in heaven ("pie in the sky by and by when you die"). The author of Romans (Paul!) identifies the gospel with "the power of God for salvation" (1:16), which surely means more than just getting people to heaven. But Colossians is scripture, too, and we must consider what this text says for the power of hope for the future to generate present faith and love.
We may not give sufficient credit to such hope. We may fear that dreaming of a home in heaven will keep people from doing God's work on earth. Colossians seems to assert the reverse. Those who are assured of a hope laid up for them in heaven become famous for their love of others. Notably, the hope of heaven is not a goal but a source. There is no thought here that the Colossians are inspired to have faith and show love in order to secure a place in heaven. Exactly the opposite. The hope is already laid up for them (v. 4): the Father has enabled them to share in the inheritance (v. 12), and they have truly comprehended the grace of God (v. 6). This sure and certain hope bears fruit in them and in the whole world.
The intercessions for the Colossians focus on growth in knowledge of God's will. So, faith, hope, and love are not enough. It is possible that they may have all these things and still not lead lives worthy of the Lord. Why? Because they might not know what God wants them to do. The most spiritual people may lack wisdom and understanding.
After these intercessions, the author calls them to join him in giving thanks to the Father. I believe the participle "giving thanks" in verse 12 should be read as imperatival (for those who may have forgotten, this is one of the uses of predicative participles in Greek). And why should they join him in giving thanks? Once again, because of the inheritance that awaits them in heaven. But, in some sense, this future is already present. God has already rescued them from the power of darkness and transferred them into the kingdom of his beloved Son. How so? We don't yet experience the fullness of that hope laid up for us in heaven. We don't have it all yet, or else there would be no point in talking of an inheritance. No, we don't have it all, but we do have this: "redemption, the forgiveness of sins." We have those things in Christ, already.
Luke 10:25-37
The story of the Good Samaritan (like that of the Prodigal Son) is so well known that we may always be looking for new angles, some way of keeping the message fresh. Back in the 1960s Clarence Jordan's interpretation was actually shocking as he retold the story as one in which a white man was helped out of the ditch by "a Negro." I know preachers who keep trying to find ways to give the tale that edge it is obviously supposed to possess. Lately, it has been popular for sermons to cast a homosexual in the role of the Samaritan.
There are a couple of points which I think get overlooked. First, the Samaritan is not just a symbol of someone who was a victim of ethnic prejudice or moralistic stereotyping, but stands specifically for someone who is a religious heretic. Luke is not neutral with regard to the religious differences between Jews and Samaritans. He thinks the Jews are right and the Samaritans wrong (Jesus thought this too -- see John 4:22). From Luke's perspective, the Samaritan is an "unbeliever," while all the other people in the story are "believers." The story demonstrates how, ironically, unbelievers sometimes do what God wants, while believers sometimes fail. Recognition of this reality ought to complicate how we view the world.
Another point to notice is the subtle strategy implicit in the question Jesus asks at verse 36. He forces the religious leader to adopt the perspective of the man in the ditch and to reconsider his original question ("Who is my neighbor?") from that perspective. It is one thing to have a religious discussion about such a question, to quote the views of various scholars and to review the pros and cons for defining the concept of "neighbor" narrowly or broadly. This was actually done in the academy in Jesus' day. But Jesus just cuts through all that and says, "Suppose you got beaten up, robbed, stripped, and left half-dead in a ditch -- then who do you think you'd regard as your neighbor?" The answer suddenly becomes clear: anyone who would help me out.
The amazing thing about the way this story gets used in the church is that most people take the point as being that, like the Samaritan, we ought to help others when they need it. Well, of course we should do that, but Jesus invites us to empathize not with the Samaritan but with the man in the ditch. This is what theologians call "the pedagogy of the oppressed." People who have been beaten up view life differently than people who haven't. People who are last see the world differently than people who are first. Jesus invites religious leaders to revisit all those big questions they talked about in Pharisee school and consider how the poor and the oppressed people of the world would answer them.
The main point of this story, I think, is not that we should help our neighbors but that we should learn to look at life from the perspective of people who have been beaten up.
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
Amos 7:7-17
This text gives the third in a series of four visions (7:1--8:3) that the prophet Amos has been granted during the reign of Jeroboam II (787/6-747/6) in northern Israel. The series is interrupted by Amos' confrontation with the high priest Amaziah at the king's sanctuary in Bethel (7:10-17). In the first two visions (7:1-3, 4-6), Amos turned aside God's judgment on Israel by fulfilling the prophetic function of interceding for his faithless people.
Now the Lord tells Amos that he can no longer pass over Israel's flagrant sins of injustice and idolatry. The Lord has set a mason's plumb line in the midst of Israel, and that covenant people is no longer upright and straight. Measured by the commandments and will of God for justice in society and sincere worship from her heart, Israel has become crooked, veering sharply from her obedience of and trust in the Lord.
Israel, like the church, was the people of God who pledged to worship him and to honor his will alone. But during the "boom time" of Jeroboam II's reign, commerce flourished to produce a growing wealthy class that enjoyed luxury (cf. 3:15; 6:4) at the expense of the poor. Often the poor were cheated in the marketplace (8:5) or denied justice in the lay courts at the city gates (cf. 2:7; 5:10, 12). Unable to pay their debts, the poor peasants were thrown into prison or subjected to slavery (2:6; 8:4, 6). As the structures of society gradually broke down, debauchery increased (cf. 2:7-8; 6:5-6), while the consciences of the rich were placated by participation in an elaborate cultus (4:4-5; 5:21-23). At the same time, the leading class thought to find security behind strong military fortifications (6:8-11, 12-14).
God will put up with disobedience and evil only so long, however. He is a God of unfailing love, to be sure, who is slow to anger and patient in forgiveness. He repeatedly warns his covenant people of the consequences of their sin, through prophets and various calamities (cf. 4:6-11). But when the people will not listen and persist on a course that hinders God's good purpose for his world, God will not overlook their threat to his lordship.
The Lord therefore tells Amos that by an unnamed conqueror (cf. 6:14), he will pass through the midst of Israel, destroying their phoney worship, their unjust community, and their government. The "high places," the local worship sites throughout the countryside, will become desolate of people, because the people will have been carried into exile. The "sanctuaries" of both Bethel and Dan, where Jeroboam I erected golden calves to be worshiped, will be laid waste. And the monarchy will fall victim to the "sword" of the Lord.
Amos' words have now become a threat to the government. Not only has Amos' prophecy attacked the state cult, but it has also spoken treason against the crown. The priest Amaziah, who is in charge of the royal sanctuary at Bethel, therefore sends a message to the king in the palace in Samaria, some fifty miles away, to report what Amos has been preaching (vv. 10-11). "Thus Amos has said," he reports. He does not believe Israel will go into exile or that Jeroboam will fall by the sword, because he does not believe Amos is speaking the Word of God.
Amaziah does not wait for the king's reply. He personally tries to banish Amos from the royal sanctuary. Go back to Judah, he orders, and prophesy there. Amaziah does not care if Amos preaches, because Amaziah does not believe the words of the prophecy. But he does not want such subversive words said at the king's place of worship, where they are likely to cause an uprising against the throne.
Amos, however, defends his ministry. I am not a professional prophet, he says, and I am not a member of a prophetic guild -- such is the import of verse 14. But "the Lord took me..." (v. 15). Amos is under a divine compulsion; he has to preach. His words are truly the Word of the Lord. But because Amaziah has not believed that Word, Amaziah's children will fall by the sword when Israel is invaded, his wife will become a harlot for the conquering soldiers, Israel's land will be divided as a spoil, and Amaziah himself will be carried into exile, where he will die. In 721 B.C., therefore, northern Israel falls to the troops of Assyria, her population is carried into exile and disappears from history, while her land is given to foreigners, known later as the "Samaritans."
God, who is "of purer eyes than to behold evil" (Habbakuk 1:13), will not allow evil to persist forever in his world. When the poor are trampled in the dust while the rich luxuriate in the vita dolce, when the worship of God becomes a mockery and his covenant people rely on everything and everyone but him, God speaks his Word, a Word that is now given us through the scriptures. And that Word is a powerful, effective force that shapes the course of history until it is fulfilled (cf. Isaiah 55:10-11; 1 Corinthians 1:18, 24). Such is the message of Amos that we must hear and ponder.
Lutheran Option, Deuteronomy 30:9-14
Deuteronomy is a covenant document, modeled after ancient covenants that were made between a king and his subjects. The contents of such documents laid out the requirements that the king expected of his subjects. But then at the end of such treaties were found a list of curses that would fall upon those who disobeyed the requirements (Deuteronomy 28:15-68), but also a list of blessings that would come upon those who obeyed (Deuteronomy 28:1-14; 30:1-10). Our text opens with a list of those blessings; in verse 9, God promises "good" (Hebrew) to all those who obey his commandments and his delight in all those who love him (cf. Deuteronomy 6:5).
At the center of Deuteronomy's law is the command to love God with all our heart and soul and might. At least eleven times, Deuteronomy sets forth that requirement for the covenant people of God, Israel, and of course our Lord repeats it for his church (Mark 12:30). The commandments in Deuteronomy, then, are intended to teach God's people how to love God, just as do the commandments of Jesus in the New Testament.
For many people in our congregations, however, it seems impossible to follow Jesus' requirements. Besides, they reason, we Christians are no longer under the law. Rather, we are saved by grace alone through faith in Jesus Christ, who is the fulfillment of the law. And that is true. We are no longer under the law. We no longer have to work our way into favor with God. Through our participation by faith in the death and resurrection of Christ, we are counted righteous in the eyes of God.
Yet, our Lord Christ intends his commandments to be taken very seriously (cf. Matthew 7:21). He expects us to obey them. And he does not think it is impossible to do so. Rather, Jesus' teaching is in accord with the words of Deuteronomy that we read in our text: "The word is very near you; it is in your mouth and in your heart, so that you can do it" (v. 14).
"God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit," writes Paul (Romans 5:5). "God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts..." (Galatians 4:6). "I will put my law on their hearts," Hebrews quotes from Jeremiah. God has poured out Christ's Spirit into our hearts, so that it is no longer we who live, but Christ who lives in us (Galatians 2:20), and by the power of his Holy Spirit, we are enabled to walk according to his commandments in newness of life.
Of course we cannot live the Christian life all by ourselves! Our sinful ways are always with us, and though we want to do good, we do just the opposite (cf. Romans 7:18-20). But God has not left us alone! Having sent his Son to redeem us from sin and death and to justify us in his sight, God through Jesus Christ now sends his Spirit to dwell in the hearts of all of those who trust him. And by that Spirit, you see, we can do far more abundantly than anything we ask or think. In the power of Christ's Spirit, we can do the good and obey our Lord's commandments and live a truly Christian life. By the Holy Spirit, "the word is very near you; it is in your heart, so that you can do it."
Amos 7:7-17
No gospel here! The lesson begins with an oracle of pure doom, reports the response (and lack of response) to it, and then repeats the condemnation. The context for this drama is the prophetic career of Amos during the reign of Jeroboam. The date is around 750 B.C. The fall of Israel, which comes definitively in 722, is on the horizon.
The initial scene features the prophet's vision of a plumb line. What's that? Dust off your old Bible dictionary and you'll discover that it is a device used for determining whether a wall is vertically straight. It consisted of a lead weight attached to a cord and worked on the basic principle of gravity. If the ground shifted or for some other reason a wall began to lean, it would no longer be parallel to the plumb line. What could be done? Well, in some cases, the wall would just have to be torn down.
This vision is the third in a series of four received by the prophet Amos. See also the visions of locusts (7:1-3), devouring fire (7:4-6), and the basket of summer fruit (8:1-3). They differ in content and form, but the common theme is that Israel's fate is sealed. The covenant has been broken beyond repair. Here, God says, "I will never again pass them by," probably a reference to the Passover. The angel of death will not pass over Israel as in the past. Israel has become God's enemy, as surely as Egypt was in the days of the exodus.
The second major scene concerns Amaziah, the tattletale priest who runs to the king and reports what Amos is saying. We do not hear the king's response, but are left to assume that Amaziah's words to Amos in verse 12 represent the gist of it (with expletives deleted perhaps). It is interesting that the king fears God enough not to lay a hand on Amos. He just wants to be rid of him. "I think Judah needs prophets. Why don't you go there?" Amaziah is also insulting with his words, "Earn your bread there," implying that Amos is only in this for the money. Actually, of course, prophets who want to get rich do not usually go about telling people God is going to destroy them -- no matter what! I also think it ironic that Amaziah insists, "Bethel is the king's sanctuary!" since the very word Beth-el means "house of God." (Have you ever had parishioners complain about what they don't want to see happening in their church? Whose church is it?)
Of course, what is completely missing here is any reflection on whether what the prophet says might be true. The concern is only that these words are hard to bear (v. 10). Therefore, we don't want to hear them. What if Jeroboam had listened? What if he had repented? What if ...? We'll never know.
The final verses seal Israel's doom by reaffirming the Lord's decision with specific reference to the horror and shame that awaits Jeroboam and his family. The declaration, "I am no prophet, nor a prophet's son," in verse 14 is in response to Amaziah's suggestion that he "earn his bread" as a prophet somewhere else. He is not a prophet by profession. He did not choose this line of work -- God called him. This is his way of saying, "You shouldn't be worrying about me; you should be worrying about the one who called me."
Colossians 1:1-14
The letter to the Colossians opens, after a brief salutation, with prayers and exhortations for the recipients. Prayers of thanksgiving (vv. 3-8) are followed by prayers of intercession (vv. 9-11) and then by an exhortation to give thanks (vv. 12-14). Thus, the supplications are sandwiched between the praise in a chiasm of celebration. Not a bad pattern for worship.
The thanksgiving makes use of the familiar triad of faith, hope, and love (see 1 Corinthians 13:13; 1 Thessalonians 1:3). But what is interesting here is that hope is made the foundation of the other two. It is a future hope, an eschatological hope that gives birth to faith and to love. Specifically, the hope laid up for the Colossians in heaven (v. 3) is said to generate their faith in Christ Jesus and their love for all the saints (v. 4). The author (Paul?) goes on to identify this hope as the content of "the word of truth" and "the gospel." We may be a little reticent to make such an identification. Most of us have been taught not to equate the gospel with the future promise of life in heaven ("pie in the sky by and by when you die"). The author of Romans (Paul!) identifies the gospel with "the power of God for salvation" (1:16), which surely means more than just getting people to heaven. But Colossians is scripture, too, and we must consider what this text says for the power of hope for the future to generate present faith and love.
We may not give sufficient credit to such hope. We may fear that dreaming of a home in heaven will keep people from doing God's work on earth. Colossians seems to assert the reverse. Those who are assured of a hope laid up for them in heaven become famous for their love of others. Notably, the hope of heaven is not a goal but a source. There is no thought here that the Colossians are inspired to have faith and show love in order to secure a place in heaven. Exactly the opposite. The hope is already laid up for them (v. 4): the Father has enabled them to share in the inheritance (v. 12), and they have truly comprehended the grace of God (v. 6). This sure and certain hope bears fruit in them and in the whole world.
The intercessions for the Colossians focus on growth in knowledge of God's will. So, faith, hope, and love are not enough. It is possible that they may have all these things and still not lead lives worthy of the Lord. Why? Because they might not know what God wants them to do. The most spiritual people may lack wisdom and understanding.
After these intercessions, the author calls them to join him in giving thanks to the Father. I believe the participle "giving thanks" in verse 12 should be read as imperatival (for those who may have forgotten, this is one of the uses of predicative participles in Greek). And why should they join him in giving thanks? Once again, because of the inheritance that awaits them in heaven. But, in some sense, this future is already present. God has already rescued them from the power of darkness and transferred them into the kingdom of his beloved Son. How so? We don't yet experience the fullness of that hope laid up for us in heaven. We don't have it all yet, or else there would be no point in talking of an inheritance. No, we don't have it all, but we do have this: "redemption, the forgiveness of sins." We have those things in Christ, already.
Luke 10:25-37
The story of the Good Samaritan (like that of the Prodigal Son) is so well known that we may always be looking for new angles, some way of keeping the message fresh. Back in the 1960s Clarence Jordan's interpretation was actually shocking as he retold the story as one in which a white man was helped out of the ditch by "a Negro." I know preachers who keep trying to find ways to give the tale that edge it is obviously supposed to possess. Lately, it has been popular for sermons to cast a homosexual in the role of the Samaritan.
There are a couple of points which I think get overlooked. First, the Samaritan is not just a symbol of someone who was a victim of ethnic prejudice or moralistic stereotyping, but stands specifically for someone who is a religious heretic. Luke is not neutral with regard to the religious differences between Jews and Samaritans. He thinks the Jews are right and the Samaritans wrong (Jesus thought this too -- see John 4:22). From Luke's perspective, the Samaritan is an "unbeliever," while all the other people in the story are "believers." The story demonstrates how, ironically, unbelievers sometimes do what God wants, while believers sometimes fail. Recognition of this reality ought to complicate how we view the world.
Another point to notice is the subtle strategy implicit in the question Jesus asks at verse 36. He forces the religious leader to adopt the perspective of the man in the ditch and to reconsider his original question ("Who is my neighbor?") from that perspective. It is one thing to have a religious discussion about such a question, to quote the views of various scholars and to review the pros and cons for defining the concept of "neighbor" narrowly or broadly. This was actually done in the academy in Jesus' day. But Jesus just cuts through all that and says, "Suppose you got beaten up, robbed, stripped, and left half-dead in a ditch -- then who do you think you'd regard as your neighbor?" The answer suddenly becomes clear: anyone who would help me out.
The amazing thing about the way this story gets used in the church is that most people take the point as being that, like the Samaritan, we ought to help others when they need it. Well, of course we should do that, but Jesus invites us to empathize not with the Samaritan but with the man in the ditch. This is what theologians call "the pedagogy of the oppressed." People who have been beaten up view life differently than people who haven't. People who are last see the world differently than people who are first. Jesus invites religious leaders to revisit all those big questions they talked about in Pharisee school and consider how the poor and the oppressed people of the world would answer them.
The main point of this story, I think, is not that we should help our neighbors but that we should learn to look at life from the perspective of people who have been beaten up.
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
Amos 7:7-17
This text gives the third in a series of four visions (7:1--8:3) that the prophet Amos has been granted during the reign of Jeroboam II (787/6-747/6) in northern Israel. The series is interrupted by Amos' confrontation with the high priest Amaziah at the king's sanctuary in Bethel (7:10-17). In the first two visions (7:1-3, 4-6), Amos turned aside God's judgment on Israel by fulfilling the prophetic function of interceding for his faithless people.
Now the Lord tells Amos that he can no longer pass over Israel's flagrant sins of injustice and idolatry. The Lord has set a mason's plumb line in the midst of Israel, and that covenant people is no longer upright and straight. Measured by the commandments and will of God for justice in society and sincere worship from her heart, Israel has become crooked, veering sharply from her obedience of and trust in the Lord.
Israel, like the church, was the people of God who pledged to worship him and to honor his will alone. But during the "boom time" of Jeroboam II's reign, commerce flourished to produce a growing wealthy class that enjoyed luxury (cf. 3:15; 6:4) at the expense of the poor. Often the poor were cheated in the marketplace (8:5) or denied justice in the lay courts at the city gates (cf. 2:7; 5:10, 12). Unable to pay their debts, the poor peasants were thrown into prison or subjected to slavery (2:6; 8:4, 6). As the structures of society gradually broke down, debauchery increased (cf. 2:7-8; 6:5-6), while the consciences of the rich were placated by participation in an elaborate cultus (4:4-5; 5:21-23). At the same time, the leading class thought to find security behind strong military fortifications (6:8-11, 12-14).
God will put up with disobedience and evil only so long, however. He is a God of unfailing love, to be sure, who is slow to anger and patient in forgiveness. He repeatedly warns his covenant people of the consequences of their sin, through prophets and various calamities (cf. 4:6-11). But when the people will not listen and persist on a course that hinders God's good purpose for his world, God will not overlook their threat to his lordship.
The Lord therefore tells Amos that by an unnamed conqueror (cf. 6:14), he will pass through the midst of Israel, destroying their phoney worship, their unjust community, and their government. The "high places," the local worship sites throughout the countryside, will become desolate of people, because the people will have been carried into exile. The "sanctuaries" of both Bethel and Dan, where Jeroboam I erected golden calves to be worshiped, will be laid waste. And the monarchy will fall victim to the "sword" of the Lord.
Amos' words have now become a threat to the government. Not only has Amos' prophecy attacked the state cult, but it has also spoken treason against the crown. The priest Amaziah, who is in charge of the royal sanctuary at Bethel, therefore sends a message to the king in the palace in Samaria, some fifty miles away, to report what Amos has been preaching (vv. 10-11). "Thus Amos has said," he reports. He does not believe Israel will go into exile or that Jeroboam will fall by the sword, because he does not believe Amos is speaking the Word of God.
Amaziah does not wait for the king's reply. He personally tries to banish Amos from the royal sanctuary. Go back to Judah, he orders, and prophesy there. Amaziah does not care if Amos preaches, because Amaziah does not believe the words of the prophecy. But he does not want such subversive words said at the king's place of worship, where they are likely to cause an uprising against the throne.
Amos, however, defends his ministry. I am not a professional prophet, he says, and I am not a member of a prophetic guild -- such is the import of verse 14. But "the Lord took me..." (v. 15). Amos is under a divine compulsion; he has to preach. His words are truly the Word of the Lord. But because Amaziah has not believed that Word, Amaziah's children will fall by the sword when Israel is invaded, his wife will become a harlot for the conquering soldiers, Israel's land will be divided as a spoil, and Amaziah himself will be carried into exile, where he will die. In 721 B.C., therefore, northern Israel falls to the troops of Assyria, her population is carried into exile and disappears from history, while her land is given to foreigners, known later as the "Samaritans."
God, who is "of purer eyes than to behold evil" (Habbakuk 1:13), will not allow evil to persist forever in his world. When the poor are trampled in the dust while the rich luxuriate in the vita dolce, when the worship of God becomes a mockery and his covenant people rely on everything and everyone but him, God speaks his Word, a Word that is now given us through the scriptures. And that Word is a powerful, effective force that shapes the course of history until it is fulfilled (cf. Isaiah 55:10-11; 1 Corinthians 1:18, 24). Such is the message of Amos that we must hear and ponder.
Lutheran Option, Deuteronomy 30:9-14
Deuteronomy is a covenant document, modeled after ancient covenants that were made between a king and his subjects. The contents of such documents laid out the requirements that the king expected of his subjects. But then at the end of such treaties were found a list of curses that would fall upon those who disobeyed the requirements (Deuteronomy 28:15-68), but also a list of blessings that would come upon those who obeyed (Deuteronomy 28:1-14; 30:1-10). Our text opens with a list of those blessings; in verse 9, God promises "good" (Hebrew) to all those who obey his commandments and his delight in all those who love him (cf. Deuteronomy 6:5).
At the center of Deuteronomy's law is the command to love God with all our heart and soul and might. At least eleven times, Deuteronomy sets forth that requirement for the covenant people of God, Israel, and of course our Lord repeats it for his church (Mark 12:30). The commandments in Deuteronomy, then, are intended to teach God's people how to love God, just as do the commandments of Jesus in the New Testament.
For many people in our congregations, however, it seems impossible to follow Jesus' requirements. Besides, they reason, we Christians are no longer under the law. Rather, we are saved by grace alone through faith in Jesus Christ, who is the fulfillment of the law. And that is true. We are no longer under the law. We no longer have to work our way into favor with God. Through our participation by faith in the death and resurrection of Christ, we are counted righteous in the eyes of God.
Yet, our Lord Christ intends his commandments to be taken very seriously (cf. Matthew 7:21). He expects us to obey them. And he does not think it is impossible to do so. Rather, Jesus' teaching is in accord with the words of Deuteronomy that we read in our text: "The word is very near you; it is in your mouth and in your heart, so that you can do it" (v. 14).
"God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit," writes Paul (Romans 5:5). "God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts..." (Galatians 4:6). "I will put my law on their hearts," Hebrews quotes from Jeremiah. God has poured out Christ's Spirit into our hearts, so that it is no longer we who live, but Christ who lives in us (Galatians 2:20), and by the power of his Holy Spirit, we are enabled to walk according to his commandments in newness of life.
Of course we cannot live the Christian life all by ourselves! Our sinful ways are always with us, and though we want to do good, we do just the opposite (cf. Romans 7:18-20). But God has not left us alone! Having sent his Son to redeem us from sin and death and to justify us in his sight, God through Jesus Christ now sends his Spirit to dwell in the hearts of all of those who trust him. And by that Spirit, you see, we can do far more abundantly than anything we ask or think. In the power of Christ's Spirit, we can do the good and obey our Lord's commandments and live a truly Christian life. By the Holy Spirit, "the word is very near you; it is in your heart, so that you can do it."
