God's word
Commentary
Today's lessons are not necessarily connected by any particular theme, but as I read them I am moved to reflect upon the ambiguous feelings that I often experience living as a Christian in a non-Christian world. The lessons recognize that the world about us is foreign to faith and potentially evil -- but it is God's world nonetheless and opportunities for experiencing joy and rendering meaningful service abound. Jeremiah witnesses destruction coming upon what he regards as a godless, unrepentant society and ... is sorrowful. He doesn't gloat; he weeps. The godless world, it seems, is dear to him, and, he hopes, dear to God. The Second Reading calls for us to pray for non-Christian rulers, even to give thanks for them. And Jesus uses an incredibly worldly scenario as a parable for God's kingdom. In every case, the contrast between God's kingdom and the world at large is clear, but the world is regarded ambiguously, as tainted, and yet as still of interest. We learn from that world; we weep for it; we pray for it; we give thanks for it.
Jeremiah 8:18--9:1
The image of "the weeping prophet" presented here reminds us of Jesus in Luke 19:41-44.With most (but not all) interpreters, I take the voice speaking this oracle to be that of the prophet himself, not God or "the city."
Jeremiah witnesses the lament of the people and the response of their Lord (v. 19). The afflicted people cry out in vain, questioning whether God has abandoned them: "Is the Lord not in Zion?" God answers with another question, "Why have they provoked me to anger?" From his vantage point, the prophet can seemingly understand both sides of the quarrel. It was he in fact who warned the people what was coming, who told them to turn from their "foreign idols." He prophesied destruction, but now that this has come to pass he takes no joy in being right.
This prophet is not just a dispassionate observer but a member of the community who shares their anguish and suffering. They may deserve what has come upon them, but that seems now to be beside the point. He is sickened with grief, like that which one feels when a child suffers injury: the phrase "my poor people" in verses 19 and 21 literally reads "the daughter of my people."
The somewhat mysterious words in verse 20 are probably a proverb expressing hopelessness. The "harvest," I am told, refers to the wheat crop that was the staple of the economy. If this crop failed, the people were in for a rough time, but they could still benefit from the later "summer fruits" (grapes, figs, olives). If that crop failed too, then, they knew, a famine was upon them.
The reference to a "balm in Gilead" (v. 22) has become famous through its recurrence in Gospel hymns. It refers to the resin or gum from certain trees that could be applied to wounds to bring relief from pain. The traders to whom Joseph was sold into slavery were carrying this balm from Gilead to Egypt (Genesis 37:25). It appears, then, to have had international renown for centuries. Here, the prophet is simply asking whether there can not be some relief from the terrible suffering that has come upon those who are dear to him. Yes, they have brought it upon themselves, but, when is enough? Having spoken the word of the Lord to the people, threatening them, he now intercedes for the people with God, pleading their cause, asking not for justice, but for mercy.
1 Timothy 2:1-7
The theme of intercession continues in our Second Reading in three ways: 1) we, as Christians, are to be intercessors for others, especially those who are in high positions; and, 2) Christ Jesus is the one true mediator between God and humankind; 3) the apostle Paul served as God's herald to bring the truth of Christ's salvation to the Gentiles.
Prayers are to be offered for everyone (v. 1), but prayers for those in authority warrant special mention. Why? Because they are likely to have the greatest effect, for good or for ill, on the greatest number of human lives. The author of this letter does not envision Christian rulers here, but probably believes that God can direct the lives even of those who do not acknowledge God (compare Romans 13:1-7). Our prayers for such rulers have an undeniably selfish motivation -- namely that our own lives may be "quiet and peaceable." You recall, of course, that famous line from the opening scene of Fiddler on the Roof: "Rabbi, is there a blessing for the Czar?" "A blessing for the Czar? Hmmm ... May God bless and keep the Czar ... far away from us!"
Two points about praying for the government are noteworthy: One, we are to do this "first of all," which implies, on the one hand, that it is not all we do, but on the other, that it does precede whatever else we do. It behooves those who complain about governing officials (or even their bosses at work) to ask themselves, how often do I pray for them? Second, the prayers we offer are of various sorts, including "thanksgiving." We may request that God guide our leaders and employers, even change them or correct them, but we are also expected to be grateful for them, to regard them as agents (even unwitting agents) of God.
Our intercessions, though, pale in comparison to the excellence of Christ's ransom (compare Mark 10:45) on our behalf. Thus, we approach the ministry of praying for others with the humble awareness that we ourselves are the beneficiaries of mediation. Other Christians have no doubt offered prayers for us, but even these could not save us or bring us to knowledge of the truth (v. 4). We must never take this salvation or knowledge for granted.
Nor should we assume that it passes to us automatically. It may seem that way, for Westerners born into Christian households. The faith (though we must ultimately affirm it on our own) seems almost a birthright, something that will be ours unless we reject it. It is not that, not if we are Gentiles at any rate. As Gentiles, we have come to this knowledge of salvation and truth as the result of barrier-crossing missionaries like Paul who suffered much on our account.
Luke 16:1-13
The parable of the dishonest manager (or "the unjust steward") is regarded as one of the most difficult stories in the Bible. I think we make it harder than it is by expecting too much from it. The message is simple, as is usually the case in parables. There is no allegory here (the rich man does not stand for God, nor the manager for us). And Jesus never suggests that the dishonest manager's "shrewd" conduct is to be emulated. The belief that it is to be emulated leads commentators to various attempts at explaining why that conduct wasn't really dishonest. No. The manager was a crook, but Jesus never says that we are to be like him.
First, let me put forward the argument that the phrase "dishonest wealth" (or "unrighteous mammon" in the old RSV) means simply "money" or "material possessions." It does not refer to money that has been ill-gotten as opposed to that which is obtained legitimately. If we do not grant this, then I find verses 9 and 11 simply incredible -- Jesus is advising us on how to use money that we have obtained dishonestly! No, I think the phrase was a slang expression similar to modern-day "filthy lucre." People who use the latter expression don't mean to indicate that some lucre is not filthy. Rather, all money is tainted (in Luke's opinion), but Christians can nevertheless use it responsibly.
Jesus tells a story (mildly humorous) that illustrates the way the world is: people use money to secure their place in this world. The manager cheats his boss by helping those who will be in a position to reciprocate for him after he is out of a job. Even the boss has to grant that this was "shrewd." The manager uses money with a view to being paid back in this life -- specifically, "they will welcome me into their homes" (v. 4). In contrast to this, Jesus suggests that his followers use money in ways that will not find such immediate reciprocation -- they should use this "filthy lucre" to make friends with people who will welcome them into their eternal homes when that day comes when all material things are gone. The message is essentially: "Do not store up treasure on earth, but treasure in heaven" (Matthew 6:19-20). As Joel Green puts it in his book on Luke in the New International Commentary on the New Testament series, the parable raises the question: "If children of this age understand so well how the world works, why don't children of the light understand the ways of the kingdom of God?"
The closest parallel to the story is Jesus' words regarding reciprocation in Luke 14. The Pharisees invited to banquets those people who would be able to repay them. Whether they were dishonest or not, their generosity, like that of the manager in this story, was only a ruse. Jesus said, invite those who cannot repay you, so that you will be blessed at the resurrection (Luke 14:12-14). So here he says, don't use money to make friends who can welcome you into their (earthly) homes, but rather use money to make friends who will welcome you into their eternal homes. That is, use your money to benefit those who will not be able to repay you in this life, but whose mansions you will be privileged to visit in heaven.
In this age, fudging accounts to put others in your debt may be thought shrewd. But throwing parties for the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind? That's just plain foolishness. But that is the way that Jesus commends, the way of serving a different master. Those who show themselves to be faithful with regard to what only appears to be valuable will one day be entrusted with true riches.
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
Jeremiah 8:18--9:1
This moving elegy is the passage from which the Negro spiritual, "There is a balm in Gilead," is taken, although that spiritual turns the negative questioning of verse 22 into a positive assurance of healing. But in Jeremiah's time, there is no healing for sinful Judah.
The poem follows immediately on those judgment pronouncements in Jeremiah that deal with the mysterious, transcendent "Foe from the North," 8:14-17 forming the last of those oracles. (For the others, see 4:5-8, 13-18, 29-31; 5:15-17; 6:1-8, 22-26.) In prophetic vision, the prophet sees the imminent destruction of his beloved people at the hand of God, and he weeps, as Jesus wept over Jerusalem (Luke 19:41-44).
Jeremiah hears in his ears his people crying out in alarm (v. 19; cf. a similar hearing in 4:19-21). And he portrays the future desperate dialogue that the people will have with God. They will question why the God who dwells in the Holy of Holies on Mount Zion is attacking them, and God will reply that Judah has provoked him with their idols. The people will mourn that the summer -- the season of military adventure -- has brought them no ally's salvation (v. 20). And they will be wounded (v. 21). No healing balm from Gilead, famous for its medicinal cures, will be available. Sinful Judah will not be restored to health, but instead will be destroyed by the Babylonians and her people carried into exile, first in 597 B.C. and then decisively in 587 B.C. Jeremiah sees and hears it all in a vision of the future, and he is sick at heart (v. 18) and weeps day and night (9:1) over his people's coming ruin.
That which is so noteworthy in this passage is not the vision of Judah's future destruction; many passages announce that imminent fate. Rather, the prominent feature is Jeremiah's identification with his sinful people. When we witness the downfall of a wrongdoer, we are all too apt to gloat over his or her just punishment. Or when we know someone in the church who is nevertheless not acting in a Christian manner, we separate ourselves from the person and consider ourselves righteous compared to his or her unrighteousness. Even some preachers fall victim to such pharisaism, considering themselves on God's side and their sinful and stubborn people on the other. Not Jeremiah, and not any of the prophets of the Old Testament. They know themselves to be bound up in the bundle of life with their sinful folk, and they share the misery of that faithless people. Indeed, they suffer first in their own lives the judgment that is coming upon Israel. And so Jeremiah's heart is broken before Judah's is wounded.
The further fact is that Jeremiah's grief is not only his, but also God's. God has no pleasure in the death of anyone (Ezekiel 18:32). When he sees that "the imagination of the thoughts of (our) hearts" are "only evil continually," his reaction is not wrath, but grief (Genesis 6:6). And when Jesus foresees the future destruction of Jerusalem, he mourns, "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem ... How oft would I and ye would not" (Luke 13:34). There therefore follows our text in Jeremiah, two verses in which God, in his weariness with his sinful people, mourns their evil ways (Jeremiah 9:2-3). Not only Jeremiah's heart is stricken, but also God's -- that great heart of mercy that wants so very much only our good. And Jeremiah's tears are the tears of the God who loves us beyond all our imagining.
Lutheran Option, Amos 8:4-7
It has often been said that commercialism has become the dominant note in American society. Our primary goal in life has become the accumulation of wealth, in order that we may buy more things that will give us comfort and status. Most families now are two-worker families, because a high standard of living cannot be maintained without two paychecks. And without that standard we are not considered successful or important. The "beautiful people" are those who capture our interest, because they can afford to live in luxury -- witness the television program about the lives of the rich and famous. We admire those who have money, and every year we read, sometimes with envy, the list of the wealthiest Americans. Making money is the national goal, our bottom line for life.
Human beings change very little over the centuries, and that was the goal of the merchants in Amos' eighth century B.C. Israelite society also. Indeed, they were impatient with anything that prevented them from making a shekel. Especially were they impatient and vexed over Israel's worship days when commerce was not allowed.
Most of our shopping malls are now open for business on Sundays, but that was not the case in Israel. Times of worship were still days of rest from labor in Israel -- days when everyone could enjoy the cessation from work that God gave in his mercy from the beginning (cf. Exodus 20:8-11; 23:12; 34:21, etc.). And the merchants of ancient Israel did not approve. They muttered over the New Moon festival rests at the beginning of every month, and they did not like every seventh day sabbath of rest. They wanted to sell and accumulate money. They were very much like us.
More than that, the merchants of the northern kingdom were so intent on adding to their wealth that they cheated those who bought from them. They made the "ephah," that forty-liter measure of grain, smaller than its standard, and they made the "shekel," the 11.5 gram weight on the balance scale heavier, so that more silver would have to be paid to them. They even bent the balance scale out of shape in order to cheat their customers.
The result was that poor people in their society could not afford to buy food without falling into debt and being sold into slavery. With their ill-gotten gain, the cheating merchants could buy slaves for as little as a price of sandals, while some of the poor were reduced to scraping up the chaff and leavings on the threshing floor in order to have something to eat (v. 6).
All such practices violated Israel's law. From the earliest times, such dishonesty was specifically forbidden in the Torah (Leviticus 19:35-36; Deuteronomy 25:13-16) as an "abomination" to the Lord (Proverbs 11:1; 16:11; 20:10, 23). "You shall not steal," God commanded in the Decalogue (Exodus 20:15). Israel's sellers defied God's covenant command.
God, however, does not pass over our sinful ways or ignore our neglect of his just commands. In our text, he swears by "the pride of Jacob," ironically taking an oath by Israel's proud self-confidence (cf. Amos 5:18--6:14). God will not forget his people's sin, and as is announced at the beginning of Amos 8, an "end" will come upon Israel for her actions (cf. 7:8; 8:2). Her ten northern tribes will be carried into Assyrian exile in 721 B.C. and disappear from history. God will have done with their defiance of his lordship.
Jeremiah 8:18--9:1
The image of "the weeping prophet" presented here reminds us of Jesus in Luke 19:41-44.With most (but not all) interpreters, I take the voice speaking this oracle to be that of the prophet himself, not God or "the city."
Jeremiah witnesses the lament of the people and the response of their Lord (v. 19). The afflicted people cry out in vain, questioning whether God has abandoned them: "Is the Lord not in Zion?" God answers with another question, "Why have they provoked me to anger?" From his vantage point, the prophet can seemingly understand both sides of the quarrel. It was he in fact who warned the people what was coming, who told them to turn from their "foreign idols." He prophesied destruction, but now that this has come to pass he takes no joy in being right.
This prophet is not just a dispassionate observer but a member of the community who shares their anguish and suffering. They may deserve what has come upon them, but that seems now to be beside the point. He is sickened with grief, like that which one feels when a child suffers injury: the phrase "my poor people" in verses 19 and 21 literally reads "the daughter of my people."
The somewhat mysterious words in verse 20 are probably a proverb expressing hopelessness. The "harvest," I am told, refers to the wheat crop that was the staple of the economy. If this crop failed, the people were in for a rough time, but they could still benefit from the later "summer fruits" (grapes, figs, olives). If that crop failed too, then, they knew, a famine was upon them.
The reference to a "balm in Gilead" (v. 22) has become famous through its recurrence in Gospel hymns. It refers to the resin or gum from certain trees that could be applied to wounds to bring relief from pain. The traders to whom Joseph was sold into slavery were carrying this balm from Gilead to Egypt (Genesis 37:25). It appears, then, to have had international renown for centuries. Here, the prophet is simply asking whether there can not be some relief from the terrible suffering that has come upon those who are dear to him. Yes, they have brought it upon themselves, but, when is enough? Having spoken the word of the Lord to the people, threatening them, he now intercedes for the people with God, pleading their cause, asking not for justice, but for mercy.
1 Timothy 2:1-7
The theme of intercession continues in our Second Reading in three ways: 1) we, as Christians, are to be intercessors for others, especially those who are in high positions; and, 2) Christ Jesus is the one true mediator between God and humankind; 3) the apostle Paul served as God's herald to bring the truth of Christ's salvation to the Gentiles.
Prayers are to be offered for everyone (v. 1), but prayers for those in authority warrant special mention. Why? Because they are likely to have the greatest effect, for good or for ill, on the greatest number of human lives. The author of this letter does not envision Christian rulers here, but probably believes that God can direct the lives even of those who do not acknowledge God (compare Romans 13:1-7). Our prayers for such rulers have an undeniably selfish motivation -- namely that our own lives may be "quiet and peaceable." You recall, of course, that famous line from the opening scene of Fiddler on the Roof: "Rabbi, is there a blessing for the Czar?" "A blessing for the Czar? Hmmm ... May God bless and keep the Czar ... far away from us!"
Two points about praying for the government are noteworthy: One, we are to do this "first of all," which implies, on the one hand, that it is not all we do, but on the other, that it does precede whatever else we do. It behooves those who complain about governing officials (or even their bosses at work) to ask themselves, how often do I pray for them? Second, the prayers we offer are of various sorts, including "thanksgiving." We may request that God guide our leaders and employers, even change them or correct them, but we are also expected to be grateful for them, to regard them as agents (even unwitting agents) of God.
Our intercessions, though, pale in comparison to the excellence of Christ's ransom (compare Mark 10:45) on our behalf. Thus, we approach the ministry of praying for others with the humble awareness that we ourselves are the beneficiaries of mediation. Other Christians have no doubt offered prayers for us, but even these could not save us or bring us to knowledge of the truth (v. 4). We must never take this salvation or knowledge for granted.
Nor should we assume that it passes to us automatically. It may seem that way, for Westerners born into Christian households. The faith (though we must ultimately affirm it on our own) seems almost a birthright, something that will be ours unless we reject it. It is not that, not if we are Gentiles at any rate. As Gentiles, we have come to this knowledge of salvation and truth as the result of barrier-crossing missionaries like Paul who suffered much on our account.
Luke 16:1-13
The parable of the dishonest manager (or "the unjust steward") is regarded as one of the most difficult stories in the Bible. I think we make it harder than it is by expecting too much from it. The message is simple, as is usually the case in parables. There is no allegory here (the rich man does not stand for God, nor the manager for us). And Jesus never suggests that the dishonest manager's "shrewd" conduct is to be emulated. The belief that it is to be emulated leads commentators to various attempts at explaining why that conduct wasn't really dishonest. No. The manager was a crook, but Jesus never says that we are to be like him.
First, let me put forward the argument that the phrase "dishonest wealth" (or "unrighteous mammon" in the old RSV) means simply "money" or "material possessions." It does not refer to money that has been ill-gotten as opposed to that which is obtained legitimately. If we do not grant this, then I find verses 9 and 11 simply incredible -- Jesus is advising us on how to use money that we have obtained dishonestly! No, I think the phrase was a slang expression similar to modern-day "filthy lucre." People who use the latter expression don't mean to indicate that some lucre is not filthy. Rather, all money is tainted (in Luke's opinion), but Christians can nevertheless use it responsibly.
Jesus tells a story (mildly humorous) that illustrates the way the world is: people use money to secure their place in this world. The manager cheats his boss by helping those who will be in a position to reciprocate for him after he is out of a job. Even the boss has to grant that this was "shrewd." The manager uses money with a view to being paid back in this life -- specifically, "they will welcome me into their homes" (v. 4). In contrast to this, Jesus suggests that his followers use money in ways that will not find such immediate reciprocation -- they should use this "filthy lucre" to make friends with people who will welcome them into their eternal homes when that day comes when all material things are gone. The message is essentially: "Do not store up treasure on earth, but treasure in heaven" (Matthew 6:19-20). As Joel Green puts it in his book on Luke in the New International Commentary on the New Testament series, the parable raises the question: "If children of this age understand so well how the world works, why don't children of the light understand the ways of the kingdom of God?"
The closest parallel to the story is Jesus' words regarding reciprocation in Luke 14. The Pharisees invited to banquets those people who would be able to repay them. Whether they were dishonest or not, their generosity, like that of the manager in this story, was only a ruse. Jesus said, invite those who cannot repay you, so that you will be blessed at the resurrection (Luke 14:12-14). So here he says, don't use money to make friends who can welcome you into their (earthly) homes, but rather use money to make friends who will welcome you into their eternal homes. That is, use your money to benefit those who will not be able to repay you in this life, but whose mansions you will be privileged to visit in heaven.
In this age, fudging accounts to put others in your debt may be thought shrewd. But throwing parties for the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind? That's just plain foolishness. But that is the way that Jesus commends, the way of serving a different master. Those who show themselves to be faithful with regard to what only appears to be valuable will one day be entrusted with true riches.
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
Jeremiah 8:18--9:1
This moving elegy is the passage from which the Negro spiritual, "There is a balm in Gilead," is taken, although that spiritual turns the negative questioning of verse 22 into a positive assurance of healing. But in Jeremiah's time, there is no healing for sinful Judah.
The poem follows immediately on those judgment pronouncements in Jeremiah that deal with the mysterious, transcendent "Foe from the North," 8:14-17 forming the last of those oracles. (For the others, see 4:5-8, 13-18, 29-31; 5:15-17; 6:1-8, 22-26.) In prophetic vision, the prophet sees the imminent destruction of his beloved people at the hand of God, and he weeps, as Jesus wept over Jerusalem (Luke 19:41-44).
Jeremiah hears in his ears his people crying out in alarm (v. 19; cf. a similar hearing in 4:19-21). And he portrays the future desperate dialogue that the people will have with God. They will question why the God who dwells in the Holy of Holies on Mount Zion is attacking them, and God will reply that Judah has provoked him with their idols. The people will mourn that the summer -- the season of military adventure -- has brought them no ally's salvation (v. 20). And they will be wounded (v. 21). No healing balm from Gilead, famous for its medicinal cures, will be available. Sinful Judah will not be restored to health, but instead will be destroyed by the Babylonians and her people carried into exile, first in 597 B.C. and then decisively in 587 B.C. Jeremiah sees and hears it all in a vision of the future, and he is sick at heart (v. 18) and weeps day and night (9:1) over his people's coming ruin.
That which is so noteworthy in this passage is not the vision of Judah's future destruction; many passages announce that imminent fate. Rather, the prominent feature is Jeremiah's identification with his sinful people. When we witness the downfall of a wrongdoer, we are all too apt to gloat over his or her just punishment. Or when we know someone in the church who is nevertheless not acting in a Christian manner, we separate ourselves from the person and consider ourselves righteous compared to his or her unrighteousness. Even some preachers fall victim to such pharisaism, considering themselves on God's side and their sinful and stubborn people on the other. Not Jeremiah, and not any of the prophets of the Old Testament. They know themselves to be bound up in the bundle of life with their sinful folk, and they share the misery of that faithless people. Indeed, they suffer first in their own lives the judgment that is coming upon Israel. And so Jeremiah's heart is broken before Judah's is wounded.
The further fact is that Jeremiah's grief is not only his, but also God's. God has no pleasure in the death of anyone (Ezekiel 18:32). When he sees that "the imagination of the thoughts of (our) hearts" are "only evil continually," his reaction is not wrath, but grief (Genesis 6:6). And when Jesus foresees the future destruction of Jerusalem, he mourns, "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem ... How oft would I and ye would not" (Luke 13:34). There therefore follows our text in Jeremiah, two verses in which God, in his weariness with his sinful people, mourns their evil ways (Jeremiah 9:2-3). Not only Jeremiah's heart is stricken, but also God's -- that great heart of mercy that wants so very much only our good. And Jeremiah's tears are the tears of the God who loves us beyond all our imagining.
Lutheran Option, Amos 8:4-7
It has often been said that commercialism has become the dominant note in American society. Our primary goal in life has become the accumulation of wealth, in order that we may buy more things that will give us comfort and status. Most families now are two-worker families, because a high standard of living cannot be maintained without two paychecks. And without that standard we are not considered successful or important. The "beautiful people" are those who capture our interest, because they can afford to live in luxury -- witness the television program about the lives of the rich and famous. We admire those who have money, and every year we read, sometimes with envy, the list of the wealthiest Americans. Making money is the national goal, our bottom line for life.
Human beings change very little over the centuries, and that was the goal of the merchants in Amos' eighth century B.C. Israelite society also. Indeed, they were impatient with anything that prevented them from making a shekel. Especially were they impatient and vexed over Israel's worship days when commerce was not allowed.
Most of our shopping malls are now open for business on Sundays, but that was not the case in Israel. Times of worship were still days of rest from labor in Israel -- days when everyone could enjoy the cessation from work that God gave in his mercy from the beginning (cf. Exodus 20:8-11; 23:12; 34:21, etc.). And the merchants of ancient Israel did not approve. They muttered over the New Moon festival rests at the beginning of every month, and they did not like every seventh day sabbath of rest. They wanted to sell and accumulate money. They were very much like us.
More than that, the merchants of the northern kingdom were so intent on adding to their wealth that they cheated those who bought from them. They made the "ephah," that forty-liter measure of grain, smaller than its standard, and they made the "shekel," the 11.5 gram weight on the balance scale heavier, so that more silver would have to be paid to them. They even bent the balance scale out of shape in order to cheat their customers.
The result was that poor people in their society could not afford to buy food without falling into debt and being sold into slavery. With their ill-gotten gain, the cheating merchants could buy slaves for as little as a price of sandals, while some of the poor were reduced to scraping up the chaff and leavings on the threshing floor in order to have something to eat (v. 6).
All such practices violated Israel's law. From the earliest times, such dishonesty was specifically forbidden in the Torah (Leviticus 19:35-36; Deuteronomy 25:13-16) as an "abomination" to the Lord (Proverbs 11:1; 16:11; 20:10, 23). "You shall not steal," God commanded in the Decalogue (Exodus 20:15). Israel's sellers defied God's covenant command.
God, however, does not pass over our sinful ways or ignore our neglect of his just commands. In our text, he swears by "the pride of Jacob," ironically taking an oath by Israel's proud self-confidence (cf. Amos 5:18--6:14). God will not forget his people's sin, and as is announced at the beginning of Amos 8, an "end" will come upon Israel for her actions (cf. 7:8; 8:2). Her ten northern tribes will be carried into Assyrian exile in 721 B.C. and disappear from history. God will have done with their defiance of his lordship.
