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Amos 5:16

The Message

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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23 Cross References  

The Master, God-of-the-Angel-Armies, called out on that Day, Called for a day of repentant tears, called you to dress in somber clothes of mourning. But what do you do? You throw a party! Eating and drinking and dancing in the streets! You barbecue bulls and sheep, and throw a huge feast— slabs of meat, kegs of beer. “Seize the day! Eat and drink! Tomorrow we die!”

“God’s Message: “‘Cries of panic are being heard. The peace has been shattered. Ask around! Look around! Can men bear babies? So why do I see all these he-men holding their bellies like women in labor, Faces contorted, pale as death? The blackest of days, no day like it ever! A time of deep trouble for Jacob— but he’ll come out of it alive.

“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!” * * *

“Then I’ll scatter them far and wide among godless peoples that neither they nor their parents have ever heard of, and I’ll send Death in pursuit until there’s nothing left of them.”

Dirt farmers, despair! Grape growers, wring your hands! Lament the loss of wheat and barley. All crops have failed. Vineyards dried up, fig trees withered, Pomegranates, date palms, and apple trees— deadwood everywhere! And joy is dried up and withered in the hearts of the people.

What a day! Doomsday! God’s Judgment Day has come. The Strong God has arrived. This is serious business! Food is just a memory at our tables, as are joy and singing from God’s Sanctuary. The seeds in the field are dead, barns deserted, Grain silos abandoned. Who needs them? The crops have failed! The farm animals groan—oh, how they groan! The cattle mill around. There’s nothing for them to eat. Not even the sheep find anything.

Weep like a young virgin dressed in black, mourning the loss of her fiancé. Without grain and grapes, worship has been brought to a standstill in the Sanctuary of God. The priests are at a loss. God’s ministers don’t know what to do. The fields are sterile. The very ground grieves. The wheat fields are lifeless, vineyards dried up, olive oil gone.

“Listen and bring witness against Jacob’s family”— this is God’s Word, God-of-the-Angel-Armies! “Note well! The day I make Israel pay for its sins, pay for the sin-altars of worship at Bethel, The horned altars will all be dehorned and scattered around. I’ll tear down the winter palace, smash the summer palace—all your fancy buildings. The luxury homes will be demolished, all those pretentious houses.” God’s Decree.

“The royal singers will wail when it happens.” My Master God said so. “Corpses will be strewn here, there, and everywhere. Hush!”

This is why I lament and mourn. This is why I go around in rags and barefoot. This is why I howl like a pack of coyotes, and moan like a mournful owl in the night. God has inflicted punishing wounds; Judah has been wounded with no healing in sight. Judgment has marched through the city gates. Jerusalem must face the charges. * * *




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