There are some books of the Bible with which we are often fairly familiar, especially if we have been reading the scriptures for many years. For example, we may have heard stories of Jesus’ earthly life from the gospels at an early age. Even those who have come to faith later in life may know about such things as the birth of Jesus, or how he died for us on the cross. However, there are certain little books tucked away in our Bibles that many of us have rarely, or perhaps never read.
One such book is the small prophetic book of Amos, which can be found near the end of the Old Testament, in a section we collectively call the minor prophets. They aren’t minor because they are less important, but simply because their accounts are smaller than such books as Isaiah or Ezekiel.
Prophecy can sometimes be confusing, making these books a little tougher to read, but I was struck by the beginning of Amos, where he starts proclaiming judgement on Israel’s neighbours. Bear in mind that the nation of Israel was God’s chosen people – the people he had called to live holy and separate lives. Yet, during Amos’s time, they weren’t doing a very good job of living up to God’s standards. Even so, they took great pride in their position as ‘The People Of God’.
If I had been an Israelite during this time listening to Amos as he proclaimed his prophecies, I might well have been rubbing my hands together in glee as I heard him judging my neighbours. He begins in verse 3 with Damascus, which was the capital of Israel’s arch enemy Assyria, denouncing it for the way it has treated Israel. There is a threat of fire, of breaking down the gates, and of the king being carried off into exile. (Amos 1: 4-5.)
How the Israelites must have rejoiced and cheered when they heard these things. I imagine it would have been something like the sounds you hear at a sporting event when your favourite team are winning. Then, it just kept getting better and better, as Amos went on to proclaim judgement on Gaza, Tyre, Edom, Ammon, Moab, and even Judah, which had once belonged to the kingdom of Israel, but had chosen to stay loyal to the family of David, while Israel broke away to follow its own kings and to worship false gods. (Amos 2: 4-5.)
As I read these prophecies, and try and put myself in the place of the original hearers, I can imagine how I would have nodded my head, nudged my neighbour, and said something like: ‘See! I told you they had it coming!’ Maybe the judgement on Judah would have been my favourite, because Judah considered itself to be superior. Jerusalem, the capital city, was where God’s holy temple was situated, yet even with this holy God-designed centre of worship, the people had fallen into rebellion. Even the kings weren’t honouring the values and decrees of their forefather David. How my eyes would have sparkled, and my chest would have puffed out as I thought of those arrogant people from Judah finally having their comeuppance.
However, this wasn’t the end of Amos’s prophecy. I’m sure the people hearing him hoped it would be. Perhaps they were getting ready to leave and go about their daily business, but Amos had more to say. In verses 6-7 of Amos 2, he says: “For three sins of Israel, even for four, I will not relent. They sell the innocent for silver, and the needy for a pair of sandals. They trample on the heads of the poor as on the dust of the ground.”
I can imagine how hearing these words would have instantly silenced the cheering and jeering crowd. Or maybe some would have started hurling insults at the prophet, as he continued divulging their sins. Did some stomp away in disgust, while others tried to shout him down? One thing is for sure, when the tables of judgement are turned on us, we don’t like it.
As I read these chapters, I was convicted by how many times I have been prone to focus on the speck in my brother’s eye, while ignoring the plank in my own. (Matthew 7: 3.) It’s so easy to point out the sins and shortcomings of others, and to become self-righteous. Yet, the truth is that we are all prone to sin, especially the sin of pride. I am eternally thankful we serve such a loving and forgiving God, but I realise that the only person whose life I am responsible for is my own. God will pick me up when I fall down, and dust me off when I get dirty, but if I become prideful and too focused on the sins of others rather than my own, it will be much harder for me to keep short accounts with him and deal with my sin quickly.
I pray the lord will make me more sensitive to my own shortcomings, not so I can beat myself up and dwell on what a terrible person I am, but so I can bring my faults to Jesus, and ask him to help me deal with them. If I keep asking him to remove my plank, then hopefully I will be more loving toward my brothers and sisters as they deal with their specks.
The truth is that we are all in the same boat. I have my struggles, and you have yours. They may be different, but sin is sin, and we should never rejoice in the downfall of others. That goes totally against Jesus’ greatest command, which was to love one another. My prayer is that we will be compassionate to those who fall, just as we would want them to be compassionate to us. We need to learn from Jesus. Remember, he knew his good friend Simon Peter would deny him 3 times on the night of his arrest. He even warned him it would happen, but the warning came with an encouragement. “But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.” (Luke 22: 32.) I think that’s the key; to strengthen our brothers and sisters, and not to judge them, point the finger, or rejoice over their downfall. Our Saviour is a God of compassion, so let’s go, and do likewise.