Books: Stories of the Prophets
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Isaac Landman >> Stories of the Prophets
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The last speaker seemed to have said the final word on the subject.
All were silent, their eyes turned toward Amaziah. The aged priest had
not yet ventured an opinion; but he had been thinking deeply on what
was said by the others. He agreed, for the most part, with the
speakers who had preceded him; but he counseled caution and delay.
"Perhaps, now that the Prophet has seen opposition," Amaziah
concluded, "he will quit and go home to Judah."
But Amos did not quit, nor did he go home. The fight, that morning,
was a mere incident, to be forgotten; but his mission to his people
burned deep in his soul, a flame that could not be quenched.
On the day of the conclusion of the great festival, Amos again
appeared in the sanctuary. This time it did not take long for a crowd
to gather. In fact, most of the people were looking for him to appear.
Even the richest and most exclusive, who usually are not interested in
such men, had heard about Amos and had come to see and hear him,
expecting something unusual to occur.
Amos did not waste any time. Without preparatory remarks, he gave
voice to his warning call:
"Prepare to meet thy God, O Israel!"
Hardly had the words left the Prophet's lips, when a man stepped forward
from the crowd, and facing Amos with threatening fists, exclaimed:
"Hold thy peace! Thou art a false Prophet. Who hath sent thee
to prophesy?"
Here was a challenge to Amos. Who, indeed, had appointed him a
Prophet? Who had set him up to judge the people's wrongdoing? Who had
commanded him to declare Israel's doom? What entitled him to speak in
the name of God?
This challenge, however, was just what Amos was looking for. He had
wanted a number of times to correct the mistaken idea the people had
of him.
There were, in the land, the long-established Schools of Prophets.
These schools were under the protection of the king. At the head of
each was a leader, like Samuel, Elijah and Elisha of the olden days.
The leader was called "The Seer" and his pupils "Sons of the Prophets."
Now, the Seers and Sons of the Prophets, with the exception of such
strong and powerful characters as the three great men mentioned,
usually did the bidding of the king and his officers, and prophesied
to please them.
Amos was not a member of any of these established schools. He was a
free lance--in truth, the first of the independent Prophets, who cried
out against the evils of their day and who, fearlessly and without
favor, laid the blame where it belonged--on king, on priest, and
on people.
Amos, therefore, grasped this opportunity to set himself aright. He
answered his questioner with a series of beautiful similes:
"Do two walk together unless they be agreed?
Does a lion roar in the forest when there is no prey for him?
Does a young lion cry out in his den unless he has taken something?
Can a trumpet be blown in a city and the people not tremble?
Can calamity befall a city and God hath not sent it?
Surely, the Lord doeth nothing,
Unless He revealeth His purpose to His servants, the Prophets.
The lion hath roared; who does not fear?
The Lord God hath spoken; who can but prophesy?"
God, then, it was, not the head of a School of Prophets, or a king, or
a priest, who had sent Amos to prophesy! He, himself, had no desire to
speak these terrible things he was saying to his people. A force over
which he had no control--God, had impelled him to his task. It was the
still, small voice of which Elijah spoke. Though his heart bled, while
delivering the message, Amos could not help himself. God had commanded
him; he had but to obey!
Before the challenger could continue the argument, there was a
disturbance on the outskirts of the crowd. A murmur arose and all
craned their necks to see what was going on. The crowd opened, forming
a wide aisle, through which there advanced a tall, majestic figure,
with flowing robe and gray beard.
"The High Priest!"
"Amaziah!"
"The High Priest!"
The people whispered to each other and an expectant silence followed,
as the venerable priest walked through the row of bowed heads, toward
the sanctuary. He stopped in front of Amos and looked at him
curiously.
Amaziah was an old man, but as erect as a cedar in Lebanon. He was
dressed in an ephod, the holy garment of his office. The robe was of
fine twined linen, with threads of blue, scarlet and purple, embroidered
in gold. Two shoulder pieces, fastened to the shoulders of the ephod
with cords of "wreathed gold," came down the front of the garment to
just above the girdle, where they were fastened with two golden rings.
Held by these cords above, and by blue ribbons through the golden
rings below, was the breastplate, the insignia of the High Priest. On
the front of the breastplate, in gold settings, were twelve precious
stones, four rows of three stones each, on each of which was engraved
the name of one of the tribes of Israel. A mitre on his head completed
the High Priest's holy vestments.
Thus brilliantly arrayed, "for glory and for beauty," Amaziah made a
great contrast to the simply clad shepherd, robed in his woolen
mantle, as they faced each other.
The splendor of Amaziah, his age and his authority, the tension caused
by the struggle that was imminent between the Priest and the Prophet,
overawed the assembly. There was a deep silence, like the calm before
a heavy downpour.
Amos, cool and collected, always prepared for an emergency, bowed low
to Amaziah out of respect to his gray head. Amaziah, who was equally
prepared for an emergency, smiled at Amos, kindly, in greeting.
Amos, of course, did not know that Amaziah was working out a plan that
had been outlined previous to his starting for the sanctuary. Only
those who were in the Priest's confidence knew that he had sent a
message to King Jeroboam, when it was reported that a crowd had
gathered about Amos and that the Prophet would, no doubt, deliver
another address. The message to Jeroboam read:
"Amos hath conspired against thee in the midst of the house
of Israel; the land is not able to bear his words. For thus
hath Amos said, 'Jeroboam shall die by the sword, and Israel
shall surely be led away captive out of his land.'"
The messenger proceeded, post haste, to the palace of the king, and
Amaziah, quietly and with dignity, went to the sanctuary.
Hardly had Amos lifted his head from his low salute, when Amaziah
addressed him:
"O seer! Go, flee away to the land of Judah, and there eat
bread, and prophesy there; but prophesy not again any more
in Bethel, for it is the king's sanctuary, and it is the
royal residence."
How the Priest misunderstood the Prophet! Just because Bethel was the
king's sanctuary and the royal residence and the seat of all the
mighty in the land of Israel, Amos had selected it, above all other
places, to preach his message there.
But Amaziah's little speech contained something more important to Amos
than this. Amaziah had addressed the Prophet as "seer," he had taken
him for the leader of a "School of Prophets." Amos immediately
disclaimed such a questionable distinction. He answered Amaziah:
"I am no Prophet, nor am I the son of a Prophet; but I was a
herdsman and a dresser of sycamore trees, when God took me
from following the flock and God said to me, 'Go, prophesy
against My people Israel.'"
Entirely unprepared for such an answer, and not quite certain whether
he understood what Amos meant by his claim that he had taken his
orders direct from God, Amaziah was disconcerted. Amos did not give
the Priest a chance to recover from his surprise and continued:
"Now, therefore, hear thou the word of God: 'Thou sayest,
"Prophesy not against Israel, nor preach against the house
of Isaac."' Therefore, thus saith God, 'Thy sons and thy
daughters shall fall by the sword and thy land shall be
divided by line; and thou shall die upon an unclean soil,
and Israel shall surely be led away captive out of this land.'"
The fearlessness of the Prophet in attacking the High Priest dismayed
Amaziah and his followers greatly. The crowd, too, by its acclamations,
was evidently siding with Amos. Amaziah was, therefore, placed on the
defensive. In broken and halting sentences he defended himself and the
people. The ancient laws of Israel, he pointed out, were being adhered
to by all Israelites. He, for one, was not afraid, even if the Day of
God, the judgment day, should come to-morrow.
Now, a man like Amaziah might not fear the strict judgment which, Amos
said, God was to visit upon Israel; but, how about those who were
guilty of the crimes of which God, through the Prophet, was accusing
Israel? Amos understood this, though Amaziah did not. The Prophet was
speaking to all the people and not to one man in particular.
Therefore, he continued:
"Woe unto those that desire the Day of God!
Wherefore would ye have the Day of God?
It is darkness and not light.
It is when one flees from a lion,
And a bear meets him;
Or goes into a house and leans his hand upon a wall,
And a serpent bites him.
Shall not the Day of God be darkness and not light,
Yea, murky darkness, without a ray of light?"
That is why, retorted the High Priest, the people come to Bethel and
Gilgal and the other sanctuaries. They bring their sacrifices to God,
that He may forgive their sins, against the coming of the Day of God,
when all the guilty shall be judged and punished.
Amos did not interrupt Amaziah because he was an old man, and Amos
knew what courtesy was due the aged. But when the Priest had finished,
the Prophet, with fine sarcasm, showed the uselessness and selfishness
of the whole artificial scheme as practiced at the sanctuaries:
"Come to Bethel and transgress,
At Gilgal increase your transgressions,
And bring in the morning your sacrifices,
And every third day your tithes!
Burn some leaven bread as a thanks-offering,
And proclaim aloud the voluntary offerings,
For you love to do so, O Israelites!"
The sarcastic smile, however, suddenly faded from the speaker's lips,
as he asked:
"Did ye bring me sacrifices and meal-offerings in the wilderness,
forty years, O House of Israel?"
Then, with the power and fervor of the God-inspired man he was, Amos
denounced bitterly the whole system of worshiping God by means of
sacrifices, and delivered a message, new to his hearers, relating to
what God really expected from Israel:
"I hate, I despise your feasts,
And I will take no delight in your festivals;
With your meal-offerings I will not be pleased,
And the peace-offerings of your fattlings I will not regard
with favor.
Banish from me the noise of your songs;
To the melody of your viols I will not listen.
But let justice roll down as waters,
And righteousness as a never-failing stream."
These concluding sentences literally stunned the crowd. Priest and
people gasped at the Prophet's proclamation that God did not command
the sacrifices at Sinai and did not care for them, but that, instead,
He demanded justice and righteousness on the part of His people. The
Prophet had upset all their ideas and traditions regarding their
religious forms and practices, and he claimed God for his authority!
No one can tell just what might have happened, there and then, had not
a company of the royal guard, in answer to Amaziah's note to the king,
rushed upon the crowd and dispersed it "in the name of the king."
"In the name of the king," also, the leader of a small detachment of
the guard made his way to Amos and placed him under arrest. Amos might
have been successful in getting away, had he resisted; but, being a
law-abiding man, he submitted to the authorities, and, long before the
scattered crowd was aware of what had happened to the Prophet, he was
whirled away in a chariot to the palace of the king.
CHAPTER VI.
_The Prophet in Tekoah._
King Jeroboam II was now an old man. The vehemence and determination
and aggressiveness that had made him a far-famed conqueror had been
mellowed by the years and rarely, if ever, showed themselves.
The note he received from Amaziah regarding Amos, however, awoke the
old spirit in him. The dispatch of the section of the royal guard with
orders for the Prophet's immediate arrest was in line with the way
Jeroboam did things during the days when he personally led his armies.
But instead of having Amos put in chains and thrown into a dungeon,
Jeroboam had him brought into his presence. The king wanted to see and
speak to the man who, according to Amaziah, had conspired against him
and the God of Israel and was proclaiming the doom of his dynasty.
Amos, who had never seen the king face to face, who had never even
been inside any of the royal palaces, was, nevertheless, calm and cool
as usual. The splendor of the throne room and the crowd of officers
and counselors did not in the least affright him. He made a low
obeisance to his king and waited for the order to rise.
Jeroboam was a much keener man than Amaziah. When he saw Amos, studied
his bearing, the seriousness of his face, the simplicity of his garb,
he recognized at once that before him stood an uncommon man.
Amos neither smiled the smirky smile of him who is anxious to get into
the king's good graces, nor did he tremble like a coward, who, being
caught, feared the king. He waited for Jeroboam to speak.
From the messenger who brought Amaziah's note the king had learned
something about Amos and about the things he was telling the people.
Having supposed the Prophet to be either a traitor or a madman, but
judging him now to be neither one nor the other, Jeroboam now was
puzzled as to the manner in which to speak to him.
Jeroboam looked quizzically at Amos for a few moments and began:
"Thou, then, art the Prophet?"
"I am a herdsman and a dresser of sycamore trees," Amos replied.
"But thou speakest evil against the king and against the house of
Israel," exclaimed Jeroboam.
"The Lord God hath commanded me," answered Amos, with deep humility.
"Thou art a traitor and thou shalt die," threatened the king.
"I can but speak," calmly replied Amos, "even if thou slay me."
Jeroboam made the threat to take the Prophet's life in order to test
him. He figured that it would send Amos groveling to his knees,
begging for mercy. The quiet manner in which he accepted the threat
however, puzzled the king. He concluded that Amos must be either
exceedingly brave or hopelessly crazy.
Now, a man who is not afraid to die, be he brave or crazy, is a very
dangerous man to have around. It would have been easy enough to behead
Amos and be done with him, but Jeroboam was not a king who took his
subjects' lives ruthlessly--especially when it was so simple to get
rid of an undesirable one in another way.
"Then go to thy flocks and sycamores," commanded Jeroboam, "and speak
to them."
The king's humorous sally called forth a great shout of laughter from
those who were present. Jeroboam, smiling, waved his hand, indicating
that the interview was over. The guard closed around Amos and he was
led into an outer hall. After a short wait he was informed that, by
command of the king, he must leave Bethel on that very day and never
set foot in the Kingdom of Israel again.
Had Jeroboam himself been a wicked man like King Ahab, Amos, no doubt,
would have disregarded the threat against his life and would have
confronted the king in his palace, as Elijah confronted Ahab in
Naboth's vineyard. Jeroboam, as ruler, however, did not oppress or
mistreat the people. Being an old man, resting on the laurels of his
great victories and knowing from his friends and counselors and the
size of the royal treasury that his empire was rich and the people
peaceful, Jeroboam probably had no idea of the corruption and
injustice that was rampant in the land. He would have laughed at the
thought of it.
Besides, and this was the important thing with Amos, it would have
been folly for him to sacrifice his life at this time. To die a martyr
for a cause is a noble and beautiful thing--if martyrdom will in any
way advance this cause. To have confronted Jeroboam or to have
remained in Bethel would have meant certain death--and, to die then
would have meant an end to the crusade that he was just beginning
against the oppression of the poor, the denial of justice, the
unrighteousness in business dealings and the misunderstanding of God
and His worship: it would have meant an end to his set purpose to warn
Israel against Assyria, the enemy approaching from the North, and
against the inability to meet this enemy, because of the immorality
that was weakening the nation.
He had plenty of time to think this over as he wended his way
mournfully out of the busy and joyful thoroughfares of Bethel to his
quiet, though beloved Tekoah.
Amos found to his great joy that he did not now stand alone. Many who
had heard him, had understood him. When the news that he had been
driven out of Israel spread, many followed him to Judah and
accompanied him to his home in Tekoah.
As was always the case with Amos in a crisis, he thought quickly and
arrived at a new plan of action speedily. On his way to Tekoah he
selected from among his followers men who could write--scribes--and
confided to them that from now on he must confine all his wealth to
the spreading of his ideas throughout the empire by means of the
written word.
After all, God had willed it that he should be driven back to Tekoah.
Amos, as a speaker, could address a crowd only in one place at one
time. In listening to a speech, too, much of what the speaker says is
lost to his hearers. Therefore, Amos concluded, God had willed it that
he should return to Tekoah, write out his speeches and his warnings,
send them to the farthest ends of the land that all the people may
read and study and understand in order that they may return speedily
to God; seek good and not evil, that the nation may live.
By day, he and his followers tended the flocks and gathered the fruit
of sycamore trees. All the products that were sent to market were sold
by honest weight and measure and at honest prices.
By night, he and his scribes wrote out the speeches that he had
delivered in Israel, and especially in Bethel, added new ones and sent
them with trusted messengers to all parts of Judah and Israel.
Amos was thus probably the first prophet who wrote down his speeches.
What we have of them, however, are only fragments. There is not one
speech complete as it was originally written or delivered. The
fragments are collected in the Biblical book, called "Amos." Through
this book the name of the humble herdsmen of Tekoah is written large
in the history of religion.
It was Amos who first conceived of God as the God, not of Israel
alone, but of all peoples:
"Are you not as the Ethiopians to me,
O Israel? saith God.
Did I not bring Israel up out of the land of Egypt,
And the Philistines from Caphtor,
And the Syrians from Kir?"
It was Amos who first appeared as the public champion of the poor and
downtrodden, who publicly denounced the greed of the rich and the
corruption of the men in power:
"For I know how manifold are your transgressions,
And how mighty are your sins--
Ye, that trample upon the poor,
That afflict the just, that take a bribe,
And that turn away the needy in the gate."
It was Amos who first cried out against the mistaken idea that animal
sacrifices were what God asked of His people:
"Did ye bring unto me sacrifices and meal-offerings
In the wilderness, forty years, O house of Israel?"
It was Amos who first brought forward the great and universal truth
that God judges every human being, no matter what the race or color,
according to his or her acts:
"Seek good and not evil,
That ye may live;
Seek God and ye shall live."
It was Amos who first made clear, that God demands of men, above all
things, justice and righteousness:
"Let justice roll down as a flood of water,
And righteousness like a never-failing stream."
We do not know definitely what became of Amos.
One tradition has it that he came to Jerusalem and, while he was
denouncing Uzziah, king of Judah, Uzziah struck him on the forehead
with a piece of glowing iron. As a result of the blow, Amos died while
preaching in the hope of saving his people in Jerusalem, as his father
died while fighting in defense of Jerusalem, in the hope of saving
his country.
The probabilities are, however, that Amos lived peacefully with his
disciples among his sycamore trees near Tekoah, until he had completed
the writing of his speeches and saw to their distribution all over
Israel, believing that there was yet time for the people of Israel to
return to God and to save the nation from the calamity that was
threatening it.
THE MAN WHO LEARNED HIS LESSON
CHAPTER I.
_An Eventful Night._
Whenever Jezreel was sent early to bed, although he had been a good
boy during the day, and, in addition, when his little sister and
brother were ordered to go with him, he knew the evening would be
another one of those that made his little heart ache.
Jezreel was only ten years old, but he was sharp and keen for his age.
He understood that his parents wanted him out of reach and sound.
Twice before, on similar occasions, after he had recited his night
prayer and the maid-servant had tucked him in his bed, he lay with his
eyes closed tight but wide awake, listening.
He knew that what he was doing was wrong, but he could not sleep. He
heard his father and mother talking to each other loudly, but could
not make out just what they were saying. Their voices, however, he
felt, were not soft and sweet, as they usually were, when they
addressed the children.
On this particular evening, as he went out of the dining-room with
Lo-ruhamah, his seven-year-old sister, and Lo-ammi, his four-year-old
brother, Jezreel made up his mind to do a very unusual thing. He
determined not to sleep at all.
That afternoon, his father, Hosea, had returned from Bethel all out of
sorts. The children had been expecting him, as they always did, when
he came home from the sanctuary, to bring the usual little gifts; but
the father seemed to have forgotten them. In fact, Hosea was quite
irritated when, not understanding his father's mood, Lo-ammi cried for
the expected sweets or trinkets.
In a little while, however, Hosea, calmed his youngest son and
promised all three of the children that, in the morning, he would take
them to the bazaars in the market place, to buy what they pleased.
Just then their mother, Gomer, came in. She was a beautiful woman,
dressed in the latest fashions of the wealthy Samarians. Her robes
were long and flowing. A veil, woven of golden threads and imported
from Assyria, set off her jet-black hair. Her arms and fingers were
adorned with jewel-studded bracelets and rings. She was accompanied by
an Ethiopian slave.
Strange to say, the children did not rush to their mother, except
little Lo-ammi, who was fond of the jeweled things she wore.
Gomer, on the other hand, did not seem to feel hurt that the children
clung to their father and quite ignored her. After a formal greeting
to her husband, and a pat of Lo-ammi's head, Gomer retired to her own
room.
A little later the evening meal was announced, and, immediately after
they had eaten, Jezreel, Lo-ruhamah and the baby were told to go to
bed.
Their attendant, satisfied that the three children were fast asleep,
left the room and went about her business. Thereupon Jezreel got out
of bed, moved a chair near to the door, sat down and listened.
Below he heard his father's and mother's voices. Words were spoken in
a high, shrill tone, loud and harsh, but indistinct. There were short
periods of silence, followed by explosive sentences that sounded like
threats. If he could only understand what it was all about! But he
couldn't, until, finally all was silent in the room below.
Then Jezreel heard the street door close with a bang.
Going to the window that looked out into the street, Jezreel saw his
mother standing alone in front of the house. It was an unusually
moonlit night. Samaria, a beautiful city in the daytime, was a very
dark and gloomy place at night, except when the moon and stars reigned
in their glory in clear skies. This happened to be just such a night.
The yellow moon was reflected from the red-tiled housetops. In the
distance were the famous Samarian houses of stone and marble, dark and
foreboding against the moonlight. Above all the houses towered the
royal palace--in which Zechariah, Jeroboam II's son, had been king
since his father died, six months before--with its bright, gilded
domes, like a sentinel wearing a brass helmet.
But the little boy, in his night clothes, looking out of the window of
his room into the moonlit and shadowed street, saw only his mother
standing there below.
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