The Prophet: Amos Read Online Free PDF

priests who controlled it, and face his brothers, who complained and fretted and yet never changed their ways. He would rather spend his days tending sheep and his nights beneath the star-studded canopy of the heavens than live in the confines of a house. But even a house was preferable to the chaos and cacophony of the crowded markets near the Temple.
    Amos comforted himself by making plans.
    As soon as the animals were wintered and tended by trustworthy servants, and the business dealings and religious obligations over, he would go back out and survey the route for next year. He would spend a month plowing and planting the pasture near Tekoa, then move on to work in the sycamore groves in Jericho. He would pull poisonous plants, remove debris from water holes, repair folds, and hunt down and kill that troublesome lioness.
    Come spring, the route would be ready for his flock.

    “Ithai and Elkanan left eight days ago,” Eliakim told Amos. “Their lambs have already been taken to Jerusalem.”
    Amos trusted Eliakim, his servant, over his own family members.
    “Who bought them?”
    “Joram. He said he would return tomorrow in the hope you would be here.”
    Amos despised Joram. He was as corrupt as his master, Heled. “Did he cheat us again?”
    “No.”
    Though Eliakim said nothing more, Amos knew he had stood by as an advisor and probably saved Amos’s young nephews their profits. Had they bothered to reward Eliakim? Amos would see to it that his servant never lacked for anything. “Where are Ithai and Elkanan now?”
    “They returned to Jerusalem, saying they would be back after the new moon festival.”
    “Was Joram pleased when he left?”
    “Pleased enough.”
    That meant trouble had been averted. This time.
    Separating the best lambs as they entered the sheepfold, Amos cut out those that had the slightest blemish. He would keep them in other pens until later.
    Joram arrived two days later, eager to conduct more business. “What do you have for me?”
    Amos showed him.
    “These are better than the ones I’ve brought you.”
    “These are the best I have.” Amos named his price.
    Joram’s brows rose. “We exchange lambs. We don’t pay for them.”
    “I know. But I made it clear to you things would change when our debts were paid in full.”
    “Your nephews are less exacting.”
    “You’re not dealing with my nephews.”
    Joram scowled at him and walked to the pen that held the blemished lambs. “What about these?” He pointed. “I’ll take that one, and the other over there.”
    Both had blemishes that could easily be covered. “I’ve already sold them,” Amos lied.
    Joram turned, eyes dark. “Heled will not be pleased about this, Amos.”
    Amos tried not to show how much that news pleased him.
    “You know we have had a congenial arrangement for years.”
    Congenial?
    Joram raised his brows. “It has benefited all of us, has it not?”
    To say it hadn’t would be to declare war on the priests who had used his father and brothers for years. Amos knew he must tread carefully or risk having sin and guilt offerings levied against him for any infraction that wretched priest could find—or invent. Even with family debts cleared, the priest thought he owned them.
    Deciding not to press his luck, Amos forced a cool smile and spoke cautiously. “The arrangement stands, Joram. You can have the lambs I showed you.” If Joram refused, Amos would be free to offer his lambs to other priests in Jerusalem, priests who examined animals as though the eye of God were upon them.
    “I didn’t come to trade perfect lambs for other perfect lambs.”
    “It does seem a waste of time.”
    Joram’s chin jutted out. “So you think you are more righteous than Heled?”
    “Me? Only God is higher than Heled. I merely wish to offer you what the Lord requires for sacrifice: unblemished lambs. Why should you complain?”
    “And you are an expert on the Law? You? A shepherd?” He sneered.
    Heart drumming, Amos