nations. Amos went, calling out as he entered the city. Crowds gathered eagerly to hear him. The young Levite stood in their midst. Unlike those around him who cheered, he listened intently, troubled rather than jubilant. He didn’t approach Amos again.
Gifts continued to pile up outside the entrance of Amos’s cave. He thanked God for the provisions and gave away everything but the little food he needed.
Each day, Amos preached on the steps of Bethel’s temple. “Those who oppress the poor insult their Maker, but helping the poor honors Him.”
The people listened, but did not apply the words to their own lives. Even the priests thought he spoke only of the surrounding nations and Judah to the south.
“Fools make fun of guilt, but the godly acknowledge it and seek reconciliation with God! Godliness makes a nation great, but sin is a disgrace to any people.”
The people clapped at his preaching, nodding and smiling to one another. Was there any nation as religious as Israel? Fervent in worship, they flocked to the temples and shrines, singing and dancing. They poured out offerings. Puffed up with pride and prosperity, they grew smug and self-righteous. Look at us! Look at the evidence of our righteousness!
They had gold in abundance and an army ready to defend them. King Jeroboam II lived in splendor in the capital of Samaria, having succeeded in pushing back the borders to what they had been during the reign of the great King Solomon. Such blessing had to be a sign of God’s approval.
Amos knew better. He preached on the sins of the nations, but no one saw any similarity to the way they thought and lived. They continued to look at the nations around them, rather than into their own hearts.
The trap was set . . . and would soon be sprung.
One afternoon Amos again found the young Levite waiting outside his cave, along with several others. He stood as Amos approached. “May I speak with you?” He spoke more softly. “In private?”
Amos sent the others away. Leaning on his staff, he looked at the young man. “You have not returned to Jerusalem.”
“I spent a week with my relatives in Jerusalem. I told them everything you said.”
“Good.” Amos went inside. “Did they believe you?”
The young man followed him. “No.”
“But you do.”
“Yes.”
Amos felt a softening toward this young man. He sat on his pallet and waited for the visitor to speak.
“Why do you live in such a mean place?”
“I would rather live in a cave, than trapped in the city.”
The young man sat tensely. “I came back to explain why we’re here and not in Jerusalem.”
“Confess your reasons to God.”
“God knows, and I want you to understand. There was not land or work enough for everyone in Jerusalem when my grandfather returned. I mean no disrespect, but the families who had lived and served in that district were not willing to step back and make room for others to serve.”
Amos thought of Heled and Joram. The young man’s words held the ring of truth. Like sheep, even the Levites had their butting order, and those long established in Jerusalem might have looked upon the influx of Levites with jaundiced eyes. He could not imagine Heled or others like him willingly giving up any of the benefits of their position, even to a brother in need.
“And I will confess—” the young man bowed his head—“Bethel has always been my home.” He met Amos’s eyes again. “My ancestors were born here.”
“So you believe you belong here?”
“Perhaps God has kept me here for a reason.”
“Do you follow after their ways?”
“Neither my father nor I nor any member of our family has bowed down to the golden calf, nor used the temple prostitutes.”
“But you live comfortably in hypocrisy.”
The young man’s face reddened. “Would you have us live as they do?”
“Do they know you don’t?”
“My father and I grieve over what you said about Judah.”
“Grieving isn’t enough to change
Gifts continued to pile up outside the entrance of Amos’s cave. He thanked God for the provisions and gave away everything but the little food he needed.
Each day, Amos preached on the steps of Bethel’s temple. “Those who oppress the poor insult their Maker, but helping the poor honors Him.”
The people listened, but did not apply the words to their own lives. Even the priests thought he spoke only of the surrounding nations and Judah to the south.
“Fools make fun of guilt, but the godly acknowledge it and seek reconciliation with God! Godliness makes a nation great, but sin is a disgrace to any people.”
The people clapped at his preaching, nodding and smiling to one another. Was there any nation as religious as Israel? Fervent in worship, they flocked to the temples and shrines, singing and dancing. They poured out offerings. Puffed up with pride and prosperity, they grew smug and self-righteous. Look at us! Look at the evidence of our righteousness!
They had gold in abundance and an army ready to defend them. King Jeroboam II lived in splendor in the capital of Samaria, having succeeded in pushing back the borders to what they had been during the reign of the great King Solomon. Such blessing had to be a sign of God’s approval.
Amos knew better. He preached on the sins of the nations, but no one saw any similarity to the way they thought and lived. They continued to look at the nations around them, rather than into their own hearts.
The trap was set . . . and would soon be sprung.
One afternoon Amos again found the young Levite waiting outside his cave, along with several others. He stood as Amos approached. “May I speak with you?” He spoke more softly. “In private?”
Amos sent the others away. Leaning on his staff, he looked at the young man. “You have not returned to Jerusalem.”
“I spent a week with my relatives in Jerusalem. I told them everything you said.”
“Good.” Amos went inside. “Did they believe you?”
The young man followed him. “No.”
“But you do.”
“Yes.”
Amos felt a softening toward this young man. He sat on his pallet and waited for the visitor to speak.
“Why do you live in such a mean place?”
“I would rather live in a cave, than trapped in the city.”
The young man sat tensely. “I came back to explain why we’re here and not in Jerusalem.”
“Confess your reasons to God.”
“God knows, and I want you to understand. There was not land or work enough for everyone in Jerusalem when my grandfather returned. I mean no disrespect, but the families who had lived and served in that district were not willing to step back and make room for others to serve.”
Amos thought of Heled and Joram. The young man’s words held the ring of truth. Like sheep, even the Levites had their butting order, and those long established in Jerusalem might have looked upon the influx of Levites with jaundiced eyes. He could not imagine Heled or others like him willingly giving up any of the benefits of their position, even to a brother in need.
“And I will confess—” the young man bowed his head—“Bethel has always been my home.” He met Amos’s eyes again. “My ancestors were born here.”
“So you believe you belong here?”
“Perhaps God has kept me here for a reason.”
“Do you follow after their ways?”
“Neither my father nor I nor any member of our family has bowed down to the golden calf, nor used the temple prostitutes.”
“But you live comfortably in hypocrisy.”
The young man’s face reddened. “Would you have us live as they do?”
“Do they know you don’t?”
“My father and I grieve over what you said about Judah.”
“Grieving isn’t enough to change
Similar Books
