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Cross References

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Amos 5:1

The Message

Listen to this, family of Israel, this Message I’m sending in bold print, this tragic warning:

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19 Cross References  

God’s Message: “Ask around. Survey the godless nations. Has anyone heard the likes of this? Virgin Israel has become a slut! Does snow disappear from the Lebanon peaks? Do alpine streams run dry? But my people have left me to worship the Big Lie. They’ve gotten off the track, the old, well-worn trail, And now bushwhack through underbrush in a tangle of roots and vines. Their land’s going to end up a mess— a fool’s memorial to be spit on. Travelers passing through will shake their heads in disbelief. I’ll scatter my people before their enemies, like autumn leaves in a high wind. On their day of doom, they’ll stare at my back as I walk away, catching not so much as a glimpse of my face.” * * *

“‘So shave your heads. Go bald to the hills and lament, For God has rejected and left this generation that has made him so angry.’

“I’m lamenting the loss of the mountain pastures. I’m chanting dirges for the old grazing grounds. They’ve become deserted wastelands too dangerous for travelers. No sounds of sheep bleating or cattle mooing. Birds and wild animals, all gone. Nothing stirring, no sounds of life. I’m going to make Jerusalem a pile of rubble, fit for nothing but stray cats and dogs. I’m going to reduce Judah’s towns to piles of ruins where no one lives!” * * *

A Message from God-of-the-Angel-Armies: “Look over the trouble we’re in and call for help. Send for some singers who can help us mourn our loss. Tell them to hurry— to help us express our loss and lament, Help us get our tears flowing, make tearful music of our crying. Listen to it! Listen to that torrent of tears out of Zion: ‘We’re a ruined people, we’re a shamed people! We’ve been driven from our homes and must leave our land!’” * * *

Mourning women! Oh, listen to God’s Message! Open your ears. Take in what he says. Teach your daughters songs for the dead and your friends the songs of heartbreak. Death has climbed in through the window, broken into our bedrooms. Children on the playgrounds drop dead, and young men and women collapse at their games.

Sing the blues over the princes of Israel. Say: What a lioness was your mother among lions! She crouched in a pride of young lions. Her cubs grew large. She reared one of her cubs to maturity, a robust young lion. He learned to hunt. He ate men. Nations sounded the alarm. He was caught in a trap. They took him with hooks and dragged him to Egypt.

“This is a funeral song. Chant it. Daughters of the nations, chant it. Chant it over Egypt for the death of its pomp.” Decree of God, the Master.

Listen to this, Israel. God is calling you to account—and I mean all of you, everyone connected with the family that he delivered out of Egypt. Listen!

“Listen to this, you cows of Bashan grazing on the slopes of Samaria. You women! Mean to the poor, cruel to the down-and-out! Indolent and pampered, you demand of your husbands, ‘Bring us a tall, cool drink!’

Now again, my Master’s Message, God, God-of-the-Angel-Armies: “Go out into the streets and lament loudly! Fill the malls and shops with cries of doom! Weep loudly, ‘Not me! Not us, Not now!’ Empty offices, stores, factories, workplaces. Enlist everyone in the general lament. I want to hear it loud and clear when I make my visit.” God’s Decree.




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