Reflections on Amos of Tekoa

I took my students on a field trip to the West Bank on the 20th of September in order to visit the ancient site of Tekoa, hometown of the prophet Amos. Amos is generally considered to be the first of the writing prophets and so has considerable importance for the study of prophetic literature.

Being on the site of Tekoa gave me a sense of connectedness with this man. First of all, like Amos, my roots are in a ranching way of life. Amos raised sheep and cattle and so did my father on our ranches in Kent, Oregon. Secondly, the elevation of Tekoa, 2800 feet, is almost exactly the same as the ranch house on our homeplace in Kent. Thirdly, the rainfall of Tekoa is very close to the annual rainfall at Kent, about 10-12 inches per year.

Shown above is a picture of our group as we huddled under the shade of a Carob tree and a Juniper tree. Ah, there's another similarity. On our ranch we had juniper trees that grew in the canyons. Only in a few regions in the western US and in the middle east does the Juniper grow naturally. At any rate, what follows is a summary of material I shared with the students on our visit to Tekoa.

I asked the students to look around at the landscape of Tekoa and tell me what descriptive terms came to mind as they surveyed this site right on the edge of the cultivated land and the desert. Here are some apt phrases that readily came to mind:

• It's a desolate place, largely lacking in significant vegetation, especially as one looks eastward over the Judean wilderness. I pointed out that a wilderness in the Bible is quite different from a wilderness in southern Indiana or in western Oregon. A wilderness area in S. Indiana may receive up to 40 inches of rainfall a year, about four times as much as falls on Tekoa in an average year. In S. Indiana the terrain is cloaked with hardwood forests of maple, oak, hickory, gingko and tulip trees among others. In w. Oregon one finds the majestic Douglas fir. This is a far cry from the kind of wilderness over which Tekoa looks. Is it a coincidence that Amos describes the restoration of David's kingdom in terms that remind us of the Garden of Eden (Amos 9:13-14)? Probably not. To one accustomed to seeing the forbidding wilderness always lurking to the east, it's fitting that God's kingdom should be depicted as a lush garden.
• It's a place of quietness and solitude. Isn't it interesting that Amos denounces the religious festivals at the state-supported shrines in this strident tone: "Take away the noise of your songs" (Amos 5:23).
• Tekoa is a rocky place. Notice that one of Amos' rhetorical questions to his audience is the following: "Do horses run upon rocks?" (Amos 6:12). His listeners knew the answer to that one!
• Tekoa lacks readily available water resources. Cisterns had to be cut out of the limestone in order to capture the limited rainfall that fell, but that was about it. The nearby wadis (Arabic word for canyons) were seasonal and had running streams only during the rainy season (Nov-April). No surprise then that Amos mentions a lack of rain as one of the covenant curses the Lord would send if his people would not obey his laws (Amos 4:7-8). And it's surely not a coincidence how Amos describes a fundamental covenant obligation of Israel: "Let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever flowing stream" (Amos 5:24). And is it mere happenstance how Amos portrays the great Creator in the doxology of 9:5-6? "Who calls for the waters of the sea and pours them out upon the surface of the earth--the Lord is his name."
• It's a place from which one has a clear view of the heavens. Of course the students couldn't see this because we were there at mid day. But if we had stayed until nightfall, we would have been treated to a marvelous display. God's great light show would have lite up the sky! In the words of Amos, "He who made the Pleiades and Orion, and turns deep darkness into the morning, and darkens the day into night . . . the Lord is his name" (Amos 5:8-9).
• It's a place connected to other towns and villages. I pointed out the town of Bethlehem to our north only about seven miles away. I reminded the students that Amos would have been very much aware of a most important individual who grew up in the "little town of Bethlehem."This of course was the greatest figure in Israelite national history, King David. Amos and David shared much in common. They were both Judahites and both grew up taking care of sheep and goats. They both knew the Wilderness of Judah like the back of their hands. Both doubtless had many stories to tell about their encounters with predatory critters. Just like young David impressed King Saul with his prowess against a bear and lion, so Amos tells his listeners about a man who had a close call with both a lion and a bear (Amos 5:19). So it should be no surprise that when Amos speaks about the Lord's future plans for Israel, he refers to "the booth of David that is fallen," which will be raised up once again so that it can be rebuilt as in days of old (Amos 9:11). In other words, he sees a restoration of the dynasty of David. This restoration has already begun! As James, the half-brother of Jesus, puts it in the book of Acts, the Jesus movement is the beginning of this fulfillment of Amos' vision (Acts 15:14-18). Our great king Jesus is the legitimate heir of the house of David and even now sits on his throne. We await his return in glory and the full restoration that takes place on that day.

I concluded our day at Tekoa with this observation: God's revelation to us in Scripture comes wrapped in the garb of humanity, shaped by the world in which the recipients lived. God accommodates his revelation to human beings in terms that are appropriate to the times and places during which and in which he revealed himself. Amos speaks the very words of God in the words of a man reared right on the edge of the Wilderness of Judah. This is a feature of revelation that needs both to be appreciated and respected. And this can best be appreciated in the land of the Bible!

Tale of Two Jerusalems

Last night was erev Shabbat (Sabbath evening) and the JUC community held their Shabbat meal and Vespers service out in the garden under a sukkah that the students had made. A sukkah is a temporary shelter that Jewish families build during the feast of Sukkoth that began on Wednesday sundown and lasts a week. During that time observant families take all their meals under the sukkah to remind them of the days of God's provision during the wilderness wanderings and of the bountiful harvest now complete (see Leviticus 23:33-43). I was the speaker for Vespers and what follows is a summary of my message

I began by reminding them of the central place that Jerusalem has occupied in the hearts of the Jewish people and Christians over the centuries. I then turned to a text in Isaiah that describes this "Holy city": "O afflicted city, lashed by storms and not comforted" (Isaiah 54:11). How ironic that a city whose name means "city of peace" has in fact suffered more war and desolation than perhaps any other city on earth! As we walk about the Old City, we are literally walking over the rubble and ruins of previous Jerusalems lying in some cases more than fifty feet below the present street level. If the bones and stones of those destruction layers could cry out, we would only hear moans and groans: Jerusalem of the past is a mausoleum of dashed hopes.

Outwardly, modern Jerusalem and the modern version of the Old City seem peaceful and prosperous enough. As modern cities go, Jerusalem is relatively safe, offering amenities and malls rivaling that of any modern world city. But it doesn't take long to realize that appearances can be deceiving. The last few days have once again reminded me how divided and tense things are just below the surface. A Palestinian man was shot and killed by a Jewish security officer in a section of Jerusalem where a few Jews are trying to live in the midst of a predominately Arab section. Needless to say, the primary source of tension and hostility in Jerusalem is that between Israelis and Palestinians. The Old City and Arab sections of Jerusalem are seething in anger and resentment at Israeli policies. But it is hardly the only one. Within the Arab community there are deep divisions and rivalries, sometimes flaring up into bloodletting episodes among the Fatah, Hamas, Al Qaeda and other factions. Israeli tensions run deep between the Orthodox and Ultra-orthodox wings of Judaism on the one hand and secular Israelis on the other. Even within Jewish orthodoxy there are bitter divisions and rivalries. The Christian community here is hardly any better with long-standing resentments and bitterness between the Latin, Greek Orthodox, Armenian, Coptic, Ethiopian and various Protestants denominations. The squabbling among them is shameful.

All of this to say, Isaiah's sad description of Jerusalem in his day is still an apt one for the Jerusalem of our own day. But that isn't the entire story in Isaiah. In fact, his book is noteworthy for a major theme that courses its way through his majestic work. He tells us a story about two Jerusalems. One is the story I've just rehearsed and summarized. A story about a city whose people are afflicted and lashed and not comforted. That's the Jerusalem of ancient and modern times. A Jerusalem where hopes and aspirations are never realized. Remarkably, however, Isaiah describes another Jerusalem, a Jerusalem I'll call the Heavenly Jerusalem, the city of God. It's a glorious, resplendent city, a city of enduring peace, filled with justice and righteousness. We catch glimpses of this wonderful city throughout his book as he juxtaposes snapshots of these two dramatically different cities along the way. For example, like a slide show, Isaiah flashes up a picture of a devastated, depraved city in chapter one of his book (see 1:2-2a5)only to follow that with another slide of a righteous, faithful city wherein peace and justice reign (1:26-27). In chapter 2:1-5 we have an inspiring vision of a future Jerusalem which is a magnet for the world and in which the law of the Lord goes forth and peace at last prevails. But then suddenly the slide changes and we see Jerusalem as it really was in Isaiah's day: a sordid, unjust, unfaithful city, suffering the penalty for their waywardness.

I then drew attention to a delightful description of the New Jerusalem in Isaiah 4:2-6. The Lord promises that his glory cloud would settle down upon Mt Zion and Jerusalem just like it did in the days of Moses and the wilderness wanderings. The residents of Jerusalem would dwell under God's canopy (the Hebrew word for canopy is huppah, which refers to the marriage canopy under which Jewish couples take their vows). The Lord also promises be a shelter for his people and the word for shelter is sukkah, the temporary booth made during the feast of Tabernacles. As we were at that very moment sitting under a sukkah I think that resonated!

All of this sets up a major problem: How can we experience the New Jerusalem and not be doomed to dwell in the Jerusalem of past and present? Isaiah the great evangelical prophet provides the answer. He tells of a great descendant of David and child born as Emmanuel who will reign in justice and righteousness (Chapters 7 through 11). In the second part of his book Isaiah then turns to the mysterious figure the Suffering Servant (Isaiah 53). Here is the mystery of our salvation. The Great King is also a Great Savior. He dies in our place and on our behalf. He pays the price for our sins. Those who embrace him as Savior and Lord become citizens of the New Jerusalem. This New Jerusalem is a reality not a mythical place like Narnia. It is a hidden, spiritual city that the world cannot see. But one day it will become visible and public. The Great King will return and consummate his great kingdom. The centerpiece will be the New Jerusalem, resplendent as a bride (Revelation 21:1-8). All our aspirations will be exceeded by the New Jerusalem.Isaiah already saw it. He gives us a sneak preview in Isaiah 54:11-14, immediately following his grim description of the Old Jerusalem! Again in 65:18-19 we catch a glimpse of this marvelous city. The Apostle John simply picks up and elaborates on Isaiah's vision in his own vision on the island of Patmos (Revelation 21:1-8; 22:1-6).

So, what should our response as believers be to this great prospect. As the Psalmist says in Psalm 122 we should "pray for the peace of Jerusalem. The current residents, and by extension, all human beings who are not presently members of the New Jerusalem will never find their hopes fulfilled in the Old Jerusalem. It is doomed. But in Christ there is a glorious future. Second, we must say to others "Peace be within you." This calls for personal sharing of Christ with those we come into contact with. We do it by both word and deed. Thirdly, we raise our voices in grateful praise and thanksgiving to the one who is going to "make all things new." Eye has not seen nor ear heard the things that God has prepared for those who love him. This is our anchor for all times.

This brings me to the

Yom Kippur

This evening at sundown begins the most solemn day in Judaism, Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, ushered in a period of ten days called Yamin Noraim, the days of awe. This is a time of introspection and self-examination with special prayers in the synagogue climaxed by special services on Yom Kippur beseeching the Lord for mercy and forgiveness. The truly penitent are assured that a merciful God will indeed forgive and, in effect, wipe the slate clean for a new year.

This communal act of catharsis and reflection is doubtless a good thing and, for those who take their Judaism seriously, it must be a quite meaningful experience.

All of this prompts me to reflect on how this compares with and differs from Christianity. There can be no doubt that in several places the language of the New Testament echoes the ancient traditions of Yom Kippur. The most obvious example is the book of Hebrews. The centerpiece of this clearly Jewish Christian writing is the portrayal of Jesus as our great High Priest after the order of Melchizedek in chapters five through ten.

Just like the ritual of Yom Kippur, Christians are urged to "approach the throne of grace with confidence so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need" (Heb 4:16). But there is a very significant difference: Jesus our high priest does something for us that is non-repeatable and non-replaceable. He has entered into the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, on our behalf and offered himself, not the blood of bulls and goats but his own blood (Heb 6:19-20; 7:18, 26-28; 10). How effective was the self-sacrifice on our behalf and in our place? The author of Hebrews says it cleanses our consciences so that we may serve the living God! (Heb 9:14). He says it cleanses us once for all and that we no longer have to feel guilty for our sins! (Heb 10:2). The redemption Jesus accomplishes is called eternal (Heb 9:12) and it saves us completely (Heb 7:25).

As the author of Hebrews makes abundantly clear, believers in Christ are under a new covenant arrangement mediated by the blood of Jesus. There is no need to repeat the Yom Kippur ritual of the old covenant because our sins have been dealt with once and for all by the sinless one.

On the other hand, is there still some relevance for Christians in the Yom Kippur traditions of Judaism? I think there is. Although the guilt and penalty of our sins have been atoned for by Christ's death on the cross on our behalf, we are not turned into sinless people when we accept Christ as Savior. We still possess a fallen nature and we still commit sins. These must be dealt with. The penalty has already been paid but sin disrupts fellowship with a holy God. This break must be repaired. Here is where the Yom Kippur ceremonies can be helpful. The New Testament epistle make clear that post-conversion sins must be confessed and turned away from. In the words of John the Apostle: "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness" (1 John 1:9). The difference from Judaism is that we shouldn't wait until once a year to confess our failings and faults: this should be on a daily or as needed basis. We need to keep short accounts with God. Don't let sins build up and choke our fellowship with God and neighbor. Let's clean house regularly. In the Christian tradition, the Lord's Supper serves as a wonderful opportunity to do precisely as the Apostle Paul requires: examine ourselves before we eat the bread and drink the cup (1 Corinthians 11:28).

In short, Yom Kippur can serve to awaken our Christian consciences to the seriousness of sin and the urgent necessity to seek daily his forgiveness and cleansing. Through the work of our great High Priest this is not an impossible dream; it's a living reality.

Modern Judaism has a dilemma. They have no sacrificial ritual anymore. The hope of a rebuilt and restored Temple complete with a sacrificial ritual is a pipe dream for a minority of Jews. Judaism in both its Orthodox and Reformed expressions substitutes good deeds and good intentions for blood sacrifice. I do not discount these expressions of piety; they are praiseworthy. The problem is they are woefully insufficient to deal with the root problem. Here is where the glory of the Gospel shines forth. In Christ our most basic problem has been dealt with and we have divine resources to deal with our ongoing struggle with sin. In Paul's words, we are saved by grace and it is by that same grace that we work out our salvation. May Jesus Christ be praised!

Behold the man!

Well, we knew this would happen regularly during our stay in Israel and, sure enough, it already has. A new and in my opinion, convincing theory about the location of the infamous place "called the Pavement, and in Hebrew, Gabbatha" (John 19:13) has surfaced. Shimon Gibson, an archaeologist, believes this pavement is located just outside the Old City wall about midway between Jaffa Gate and the southern end of the west side of the Old City wall.

Scholars are pretty much agreed that the Via Dolorossa, traversed by literally millions of tourists and pilgrims since its inception in the 18th century, is not historically accurate. There is a consensus that Pilate would have taken up residence in Herod's Palace which was located south of David's citadel and covered much of what is called today the Armenian Quarter. This photograph is looking south along the line of the Turkish wall built by Suleiman the Magnificent in the 16th century. By the way, the road in the right center of the picture leads to the campus of JUC. Notice the Armenian Quarter parking lot just inside the wall. Herod's courtyard would have covered that area (and more).

What Gibson has done, however, is posit a credible location for the actual Gabbatha or Pavement. Earlier in his excavations under Magen Broshi during the 1970's, Gibson had helped uncover a portion of the courtyard of Herod's Palace. Here is a photograph of a model of Jerusalem during the time of Jesus showing Herod's splendid palace and grounds. Note the two building complexes. The one on the left (or north) probably consisted of service buildings, and the one on the right (south) served as a barracks. This is where Pilate stayed when he was in Jerusalem.

So much has been generally agreed upon. What Gibson now maintains is that he has identified the steps leading up to a gate granting access to the courtyard area of Herod's palace, a gate Josephus (a first century Jewish historian) called "the Essene Gate." I'm not convinced about this being the Essene Gate, but what I do find compelling is his claim that the steps and gate area are where the "judgment seat" (John 19:13) was located and where Pilate uttered the famous words, 'Behold the man "(John 19:5) and where he finally handed Jesus over to the religious authorities to be crucified (John 19:16).

Seen here is a photograph of the Turkish wall viewed from the west. On the other side of the wall is the Armenian Quarter parking lot shown earlier. Notice that right at the base of the wall is an outcropping of stone and in the foreground one sees what appears to be steps leading up to that outcropping.

Shown here is a photograph I took this past week of Joyce standing on one of those steps on the outcropping. It would appear that they originally led up to a gate admitting one to Herod's courtyard. Notice how the Turkish wall rests on top of the earlier Herodian era stones, a not uncommon thing in this most uncommon city.

Seen below is Gibson's reconstruction of what the steps and gate area might have looked like with Jesus seen standing at the top and visible to the crowds below. The area would easily accommodate hundreds of spectators. If this reconstruction is correct, Joyce is standing very close to the place where Jesus stood condemned!

In the words of the old hymn: "Bearing shame and scoffing rude, In my place condemned he stood; Sealed my pardon with his blood. Hallelujah! What a Savior!"