Amos 7:14–17

Amos 7:14 — "I was no prophet, neither was I a prophet's son" Amos's self-defense is grammatically striking. The Hebrew employs no verb ("I am/was"), creating a terse, emphatic declaration. Most modern translations render this in the past tense, meaning Amos was not a professional prophet before God called him. The "sons of the prophets" (בְּנֵי הַנְּבִיאִים, bənê hannəbî'îm) were prophetic guilds associated with sanctuaries — professional religious figures who might be expected to trim their words to please royal patrons. Amos explicitly distances himself from this class. He was a nōqēd, a herdsman (the same word used for Mesha, King of Moab, in 2 Kings 3:4 — a man of substance, not a simple shepherd), and a bōlēs šiqmîm, a dresser or notcher of sycamore figs, a laborious agricultural task. Amos is rooted entirely in the secular world of manual labor. His credentials are not institutional; they are existential.

Amos 7:15 — "Yahweh took me from following the flock" The verb lāqaḥ ("took") is the same word used for God's seizure of the patriarchs, of Moses, of David (2 Sam 7:8: "I took you from the pasture"). It is the language of divine initiative, sovereign and irresistible. God does not ask — He takes. The commission "Go, prophesy to my people Israel" is equally freighted: the phrase "my people" asserts God's covenant ownership of Israel, making Amaziah's suppression of the prophetic word not merely an offense against Amos but a repudiation of God's own claim on His people. Amos has no choice but to speak; his prophetic compulsion has already been articulated in 3:8 — "The lion has roared; who will not fear? The Lord God has spoken; who can but prophesy?"

Amos 7:16 — "You say, Don't prophesy against Israel" Amaziah's command is quoted back at him before the oracle of punishment — a rhetorical structure that makes the penalty follow logically from the offense. The parallelism "Israel" / "house of Isaac" is notable: "Isaac" is a rare designation for the northern kingdom, evoking the patriarchal covenant and making the irony sharper — to silence the prophet is to cut oneself off from the very heritage of the covenant fathers. Amaziah has not merely silenced a man; he has shut out the covenant God.

Amos 7:17 — The fourfold curse The oracle's structure is deliberately comprehensive, touching every sphere of Amaziah's world: wife (honor and family line), children (dynasty and future), land (economic heritage and identity), and self (ultimate fate). His wife will become a prostitute — not as a moral judgment on her, but as the inevitable degradation that follows military conquest and social collapse. His children will die by the sword of invasion. His land, the patrimonial inheritance so sacred in Israel's theology, will be measured out and distributed to foreign conquerors. And Amaziah himself — the priest who policed the sacred boundary of Bethel — will die in an "unclean land," ritually defiled, cut off from the cult he sought to protect. The final clause, "Israel shall surely be led away captive out of his land," widens the oracle beyond one man: Amaziah's silencing of prophecy is emblematic of Israel's larger rejection of God's word, and the consequence is the Assyrian exile of 722 BC. The personal and the national fates are inseparable.

Catholic tradition has long recognized in Amos 7:14–17 a foundational text on the nature of prophetic authority and its independence from human institutional structures. St. Jerome, commenting on the minor prophets, marvels that God should choose a rusticus — a rural laborer — precisely to shame the learned and the comfortable: "God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise" (1 Cor 1:27). This principle is deeply embedded in Catholic theology. The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that prophecy is a genuine charism by which the Holy Spirit builds up the Church (CCC §§799–801), distinct from but ordered toward the Church's hierarchical offices.

The confrontation between Amos and Amaziah illuminates the Catholic understanding of the relationship between prophetic charism and institutional authority. Vatican II's Lumen Gentium (§12) affirms that the Spirit distributes charisms "as He wills," including to the laity, and that these gifts are not to be "extinguished." At the same time, the Magisterium retains the role of discerning authentic charisms — a function Amaziah disastrously fails. He discerns politically ("the land is not able to bear all his words," v.10), not theologically.

Thomas Aquinas (Summa Theologiae II-II, q. 171–174) distinguishes between prophets who merely foretell the future and those whose primary function is to call God's people back to covenant faithfulness — the latter being the higher form. Amos is paradigmatically the latter. His oracle against Amaziah is not vindictive but juridical: it is the covenant curse of Deuteronomy 28 applied with surgical precision to the man who sought to neutralize God's own spokesman.

Pope Benedict XVI, in Verbum Domini (§§97–98), draws explicitly on the prophetic tradition to challenge the Church to maintain a "prophetic voice" in society that cannot be silenced by cultural pressure or institutional comfort — a direct echo of the Amos–Amaziah confrontation.

Amos's reply to Amaziah confronts the contemporary Catholic with a deeply uncomfortable question: when do we become Amaziah? In parishes, dioceses, movements, and Catholic institutions, there is constant pressure to moderate, soften, or silence voices that challenge the comfortable accommodation between faith and the prevailing culture. Amaziah was not an atheist or an enemy of religion — he was the senior priest at the royal sanctuary. His error was precisely that he managed religion in the service of institutional stability.

The Catholic layperson today is called, by virtue of Baptism and Confirmation, to share in Christ's prophetic office (CCC §904). This is not an abstraction. It means speaking truthfully in workplaces, families, civic life, and even within the Church — not from credentialed authority or institutional position, but from the fact of having been "taken," like Amos, by a God who does not ask permission. The passage also warns against the idolatry of religious prestige: Amos's power lay precisely in having nothing to protect. Ask yourself honestly: what is my "Bethel" — the comfortable religious arrangement I would silence an Amos to preserve?