Taking the log out of our eyes
Amos 2:4-16
Recently, I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror and for a fraction of a second, I thought I saw my mum: the same eyes, the same facial expression. It was a surprise, as I do not look like her overall. It was even more shocking when I realised that in a particular situation, I was doing exactly what I used to criticise in her. It is funny how we can see faults in others that we do not notice in ourselves. This is Israel’s trouble.
Pointing a finger
As Amos condemns Israel’s neighbours for war crimes, we can imagine the Israelites nodding. Yes, the Syrians crushed us when we were helpless (Amos 1:3), the Philistines sold our captives as slaves (Amos 1:6), Tyre forgot that we were their traditional allies (Amos 1:9)! How right that they should be punished! Amos continues with Judah (Amos 2:4-5), a brother nation and rival to Israel ever since the kingdom split after Solomon (1 Kings 11:11-13; 12:16-20). Judah probably claimed to be God’s true kingdom ruled by the Davidic dynasty (appointed by God) and worshipping in the true temple in Jerusalem. Yet Amos treats them like a foreign nation who reject God’s laws and follow ‘lies’ (i.e. idols; v.4). Israelites would have felt smug. ‘Ha, that holier-than-thou Judah will get their comeuppance, too!’. Now, with seven nations listed (symbolising completeness), the judgment speech is expected to conclude. But then comes an eighth, the indictment against Israel itself.
The oppressed become oppressors
Israelites felt the oppression of foreign nations, yet they in turn oppressed the helpless. The rich and powerful could bribe the judge to win their case while the innocent paid heavy fines when they lost. If they could not pay, they were sold as slaves to cover the cost, their lives valued as cheaply as a pair of sandals (Amos 2:6). Likewise, if the poor had to put up a pledge to pay their creditors, their only valuable might be their outer cloak, which was much needed as a blanket at night (Exod 22:26-27). While the poor suffered hardship, the oppressors worshipped God (or the gods?) and enjoyed their ill-gotten gains (Amos 2:8). To the social injustices was added sexual immorality (with a prostitute, concubine or slave girl?) that involved incest in Israel’s definition (relatives sharing the same person for sex, Amos 2:7; e.g. Lev 18:15-17). Such practices brought God’s name into disrepute (v.7). Israel’s attitude was even more shameful because they knew God’s rescue from oppression (Egypt) and His help in dealing with their enemies (the Amorite is another term for the Canaanites; Amos 2:9-10). They were given spiritual leadership (prophets) and committed people (Nazirites, Num 6:1-21; Amos 2:11),[1] yet they silenced the former and corrupted the faithfulness of the latter (Amos 2:12).
Seeing ourselves in Scripture’s mirror
The parallels here are legion, where we point a finger at others while being guilty ourselves. Like the Israelites, we may experience God’s goodness but not extend the same compassion to those in need or know His generous grace but be stingy and critical in our judgment of others. Religious exploitation within the church (whether for work or sex) is particularly dreadful because it makes the worship of God a hypocrisy and covers appalling abuse with pious words. It also brings shame on God’s name when His worshippers are associated with such sins. In our profit-oriented cultures, Christians can be drawn into dishonest practices in the workplace or turn a blind eye to the exploitation of colleagues for fear of losing their jobs or not getting ahead. Yet, the more such practices become commonplace, the harder it is to see how wrong they are. Like the Nazirites who may have been convinced that drinking a little wine was not such a big issue, our compromises can undermine the commitment of all. Finally, just as the prophets were silenced in Israel, there is increasing pressure on pastors today not to confront sin (in sermons or in pastoral contexts) because it might alienate people or be seen as unloving. Disheartening as this passage is, our only hope is to reflect on God’s character (His grace, love and holiness) and respond to the One who calls us to be like Him and who can change our hearts to be faithful.
[1] Nazirites devoted themselves to God especially (for a time or for life). Samson (Judg 13:7; 16:17) and possibly Samuel (1 Sam 1:11) were lifelong Nazirites. The visible sign of their consecration was that they did not cut their hair. They abstained from wine as a symbol of curbing self-indulgence and avoided the dead as an expression of purity (corpses were thought to defile people ritually, so the defiled could not come into God’s presence until purified).