The Prophet: Amos Read Free Page B

brother?”
    “There is no reason to take your anger out on him, Ahiam.” His father put a hand on Amos’s shoulder. “Heled hired us to tend the flocks of lambs that were brought as gifts for God.”
    Amos’s stomach churned. “So the priests take the perfect lambs intended for God and give them to us to tend, and they give the weaker ones to people to sacrifice at the Temple.”
    His father’s hand fell away. No one spoke.
    “Yes,” Ahiam said finally. “Yes, that’s exactly what we do. Because we have no choice.”
    It was all becoming clear to Amos. He shuddered as he thought aloud. “So the priests keep the perfect lambs. They will produce valuable wool year after year. Then they force the people to buy imperfect lambs to sacrifice, so they make money that way too.” He looked up at his father. “And on top of all that, they make the people pay a fine for the exchange!” Why weren’t his father and brothers as outraged as he was?
    Bani leaned his arms on the table and clasped his hands. “We have our inheritance back, Amos, the land that God gave our fathers who came across the Jordan River.”
    “The debt is almost clear,” his father added quietly. “By the time you are sixteen, it will be paid off.”
    Ahiam stood and turned his back.
    Bani glanced up at Ahiam and then spoke softly. “They are priests, Amos. We dare not question them. Do you understand?”
    “We serve the Lord!” Ahiam said loudly. “We tend the Temple flocks. There is honor in that.”
    Honor? Amos hung his head. We’re stealing from God. Tears burned his eyes.
    Their father rose and left the room.
    Bani sighed. “Father had no choice. None of us have a choice.”
    “We’re not the only ones,” Ahiam said. He met Amos’s eyes, face hard. “It’s been done for as long as I can remember.”
    “Do all the priests do the same thing?”
    “Not all,” Bani said.
    Ahiam snorted. “But you don’t hear them saying anything against those who do. God gave the tribe of Judah the scepter, but he gave the Levites the priesthood. And that’s where the real power is. They can interpret the Law any way they want. They even add to it on a daily basis. They use it to squeeze the people for as much as they want. Better we stand with them than against them.”
    “When you’re a little older, you’ll be free of all this, Amos.” Their father had come back into the room. “By the time you’re a man, we will be done with it.”
    “We live better now than we did before our agreement with Heled,” Ahiam said, but his eyes were dark with bitterness.
    Anger grew inside Amos. “It’s not right what the priests did to you, Father. It’s not right!”
    “No, it isn’t. But we adjust to the way things are, my son. And they have been this way for a long, long time.”
    Shaken, Amos was left to wonder whether God was truly holy. Was He truly just? If so, why did He allow these things to go on in His own Temple? Why would a righteous, holy God reward corrupt, scheming men who misused His Name?
    The revelations of that night had sowed seeds of anger that sent shoots of bitterness into Amos’s heart. From that day on, Amos hated the required visits to Jerusalem. He paid no more attention to the priests and what they said, focusing instead on visiting his brothers, their wives and children. He gave the offerings required by Law only because they were necessary for business. Amos always chose the best lamb and sought out a priest who examined the animal properly. He did it to save the fine, rather than to please God.
    In his mind, it was a small rebellion, a way of getting back at Heled without risking retaliation against his father.
    These days, he didn’t think about God anymore. With all he had seen around the Temple pens, he believed God had forgotten about them, and all the rituals were to profit men rather than to honor a silent monarch who reigned so far up in the heavens. Did God see? Did God hear? Did He care what went on in His