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July 11

Roaring Justice: God’s Call Through Amos


The book of Amos opens with the roar of God’s judgment not only against Israel’s enemies, but against Israel itself. Chapters 1–5 build a rising case: while surrounding nations are condemned for violence and cruelty, Israel is held to an even higher standard because of its covenant with God. The prophet Amos confronts a wealthy and religiously active nation that has forgotten the heart of God: justice, righteousness, and care for the oppressed. As he calls out economic exploitation, false worship, and superficial religiosity, Amos 5 delivers God’s haunting plea: “Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.” These chapters expose the danger of outward religiosity without inward transformation and challenge us to align our lives with the justice God desires.


Amos 1 – The Roar of God’s Justice

Amos was a shepherd and fig farmer from Tekoa in the southern kingdom of Judah, yet his prophetic mission was directed toward the northern kingdom of Israel. At the time, Israel enjoyed political strength and economic prosperity, but beneath that surface was deep spiritual decay and moral corruption.


Amos 1 begins with a striking introduction, establishing the prophet’s humble background and the divine authority behind his message: he received the word of the Lord “two years before the earthquake” (v. 1). Despite his rural origins, God chose Amos to carry a bold and uncompromising word of judgment. The opening declaration, “The Lord roars from Zion and utters His voice from Jerusalem” (v. 2), sets the tone. This is no ordinary message. It is a divine roar, signaling impending judgment. The roaring voice of God affects even the pastures and fertile regions like Carmel, reminding the hearer that when God speaks in judgment, it shakes both nature and nations (v. 2).


Amos begins his prophecy by targeting seven nations that surround Israel, each condemned for their specific sins. His audience likely welcomed the judgments against familiar enemies like Aram (Syria) and Philistia. But as the indictments moved to Tyre, an occasional ally, and then to Edom, Ammon, and Moab, nations tied to Israel through shared ancestry, the mood would have shifted. What once sounded like comfort turned into a tightening circle of divine judgment. When Amos finally turned to Judah, Israel’s own sibling, it became unmistakably clear: God’s judgment is impartial and thorough. For each nation, Amos follows a clear pattern: an opening declaration of irreversible judgment, identification of the specific sin, and a vivid portrayal of the punishment to come, underscoring the seriousness of violating God’s standards, no matter one’s relationship to Israel.


Each judgment is introduced with a solemn and unchangeable declaration of divine wrath, using the repeated phrase, “For three sins of... even for four, I will not revoke My wrath” (1:3, 6, 9, 11, 13; 2:1, 4, 6). This expression is a literary device common in Old Testament poetry, where ascending numbers emphasize completeness or excess. The phrase is not meant to be taken literally, but it communicates that the nations being judged had sinned repeatedly, beyond what God would continue to tolerate.


Typically, in such structures, the final item receives particular emphasis. In Amos, only the final offense is mentioned, highlighting the sin that ultimately exhausted God’s patience. The repeated refrain reinforces that each nation’s continued rebellion had become a persistent way of life. Amos’s message is clear: habitual sin, when left unconfessed and uncorrected, invites inevitable judgment. The only hope lies in acknowledging guilt and turning to God in repentance.


God’s judgment then begins with the surrounding Gentile nations, starting with Damascus, the capital of Aram (Syria). Damascus is condemned “because they have threshed Gilead with threshing sledges of iron” (v. 3), a vivid image describing the ruthless and inhumane treatment of Israelite territories during military conquests. 2 Their brutality went beyond warfare; it was calculated cruelty. As a result, the Lord declares He will send fire upon the house of Hazael, the reigning dynasty, and break the gates of Damascus. The people will be exiled to Kir (v. 4-5), a reversal of power that reflects divine justice. This judgment shows that God does not turn a blind eye to violence, even when committed by foreign, pagan powers.


Next, Gaza and the Philistine cities come under indictment. God says they are guilty “because they carried into exile a whole people to deliver them up to Edom” (v. 6). The Philistines’ crime against humanity was that they captured whole communities in slave raids and sold them for commercial profit. Defenseless people were treated as mere objects and auctioned off in the slave markets of Edom, from which they were shipped to other parts of the world (cf. Joel 3:4-8). The Philistines did not merely conquer; they commodified human life. God responds by promising fire on the walls of Gaza and the destruction of Ashdod, Ashkelon, and Ekron, key Philistine cities. He will cut off their rulers, showing that no military stronghold can shield them from divine judgment (v. 7-8). Through this, we see that God hates the dehumanization of people, and He opposes those who profit from oppression.


Tyre, the powerful Phoenician port city, is similarly condemned. Like Gaza, Tyre delivered up entire communities into slavery, but their guilt is intensified by their betrayal of trust—they “did not remember the covenant of brotherhood” (v. 9). This may refer to the covenant that had existed between Solomon and Hiram (1 Kings 5:12), or perhaps to that between Ahab and Eshbaal of Sidon as a result of which Jezebel became Ahab’s wife (1 Kings 16:31). Breaking this bond for profit is a double sin: human exploitation and faithless betrayal. Therefore, God promises to send fire on the walls of Tyre and destroy its strongholds (v. 10), teaching us that God values both human life and the integrity of relationships.


Edom, the nation descended from Esau—Jacob’s twin brother—faced judgment for its relentless and merciless hostility toward Israel, its brother nation. This fraternal bond, rooted in a shared ancestry through Isaac, makes Edom’s actions especially grievous. Rather than showing compassion, Edom pursued Israel “with the sword,” fueled by a deep, generational hatred that refused to fade (v. 11). This wasn’t a momentary conflict or a broken treaty—it was a long-standing bitterness that had hardened into a national posture of violence and resentment.


Edom’s antagonism dates back at least to Israel’s wilderness journey, when Edom refused safe passage (Num. 20:14-21), and it continued through repeated betrayals and rejoicing over Israel’s suffering (cf. Obadiah 10-14). Such unrelenting hatred provoked divine judgment. God declared He would send fire upon Teman and Bozrah, prominent cities in Edom, symbolizing complete and inescapable ruin (v. 12).


This prophecy stands as a powerful warning: when anger festers into generational hatred, it not only corrodes relationships but invites God’s judgment. What begins as a personal or national grievance, if left unresolved, can shape the destiny of an entire people.


The Ammonites, descendants from an incestuous relationship between Lot and his younger daughter (Genesis 19:30-38), are condemned for perhaps the most horrific crime in the chapter: ripping open pregnant women in Gilead “that they might enlarge their border” (v. 13). Their lust for land led to genocide and cruelty against the most vulnerable. This is not simply warfare; it is a moral atrocity. In response, God will ignite fire in Rabbah, Ammon’s capital. Their walls will fall in the noise of battle, and their king and princes will go into exile (v. 14-15). God does not overlook systemic evil and especially condemns the destruction of innocent life. Theology here affirms God’s defense of the voiceless, especially the unborn, the powerless, and those crushed by the pursuit of empire.


Amos 1 compels us to confront the temptation to judge others while excusing ourselves. The chapter begins with oracles against Israel’s neighbors, drawing initial agreement from Amos’s audience—but then turns inward, exposing Israel’s own guilt. This pattern warns us: God’s justice is not limited by borders, and His expectations are especially high for His own people. The same God who sees the violence, oppression, and covenant-breaking of surrounding nations also sees the hidden sins within His community.


In our world today, the echoes of these ancient indictments are still heard wherever the vulnerable are exploited, innocent blood is shed, or truth is discarded for convenience. The question is not whether injustice exists around us, but whether we will recognize it in ourselves and our society. Do we benefit from systems that harm others? Do we justify our indifference while condemning others’ actions? Amos calls for more than awareness. He calls for repentance and action. Speak on behalf of the voiceless. Support what is good. And above all, let God’s voice shake you out of silence and into a life shaped by His justice and mercy.


Amos 2 — Judgment on the Nations and on God’s People

Amos 2 continues the prophet’s sweeping pronouncement of judgment on the nations, but now it comes closer to home. First, he addresses Judah, then with greatest intensity, Israel. Like a tightening circle, the prophetic word zeroes in on God’s covenant people, showing that privilege does not exempt them from accountability; it increases it.


The chapter opens with the judgment on Moab (v. 1-3). The Moabites, descendants of Lot through an incestuous union with his eldest daughter (Gen. 19:30-38), had a long history of hostility toward Israel. King Balak of Moab once attempted to hire the prophet Balaam to curse Israel in hopes of defeating them (Num. 22-24). Known for acts of cruelty (2 Kings 3:26-27), the Moabites had a reputation for exploiting the misfortunes of others. This is further confirmed by the Moabite Stone, an archaeological find that highlights Moab’s eagerness to benefit from others’ downfall.


Though a pagan nation, Moab’s sin is not simply political, but moral. “Because he burned to lime the bones of the king of Edom” (v. 1), Moab is condemned for desecrating the dead. 3 This act of extreme dishonor reveals a deeper arrogance and cruelty. In ancient Near Eastern culture, burial was sacred, even for enemies. By burning bones to lime, Moab crossed a line of decency. Therefore, God promises to send fire upon Moab and destroy the palaces of Kerioth (v. 2), and their king and princes will perish in judgment (v. 3). This judgment teaches that God values human dignity, even in death, and that vengeance without restraint is offensive to Him.


Then, Judah, the southern kingdom, receives its own indictment (v. 4-5). Though less shocking than the atrocities of Moab or Edom, Judah’s sin cuts to the heart of covenant infidelity: “they have rejected the law of the Lord, and have not kept His statutes” (v. 4). Their lies have led them astray, lies “after which their fathers walked.” This is a generational rebellion, drifting from truth into deception. Judah’s guilt is not primarily violence, but religious apostasy. As a result, fire will consume the fortresses of Jerusalem (v. 5). This sober word reminds us that spiritual privilege does not protect from judgment. God’s covenant people are held to the highest standard because they know His truth.


Finally, the longest and most detailed section of the chapter is addressed to Israel, the northern kingdom (v. 6-16). Their sins are many, layered, and devastating. God begins: “For three transgressions of Israel, and for four, I will not revoke the punishment” (v. 6). The list that follows reveals a society that has turned justice into a tool of oppression. They “sell the righteous for silver, and the needy for a pair of sandals” (v. 6). In other words, people are being bought and sold, perhaps through unjust court rulings or debt slavery, over trivial material gain. Human life is cheap in such a culture.


Verse 7 paints a picture of systemic injustice: “those who trample the head of the poor into the dust of the earth and turn aside the way of the afflicted.” This is not just isolated sin; it’s a society built on the backs of the vulnerable. Even more troubling, verse 7 describes a man and his father engaging in relations with the same woman, a situation that points to a flagrant violation of moral boundaries. Such behavior, Amos says, “profanes” God’s holy name, revealing how deeply God’s reputation is tied to the conduct of His people, especially in how they treat others with dignity and respect.


The indictment continues with how Israel misused sacred spaces and offerings. They “lay themselves down beside every altar on garments taken in pledge” (v. 8). This refers to poor people being forced to give their garments as collateral, something strictly forbidden to keep overnight in the Law (Exodus 22:26-27), and those garments being used in idolatrous worship. They drink “the wine of those who have been fined in the house of their god,” meaning they profit from unjust fines and use the proceeds in idolatry. It’s a grotesque mingling of injustice and false religion.


Yet in contrast, God reminds Israel of His grace toward them in the past. “I destroyed the Amorite before them” (v. 9), a reference to the conquest of Canaan. God overthrew a mighty enemy with divine power. He also “brought you up out of the land of Egypt” and “led you forty years in the wilderness” (v. 10). He gave them land, protection, and purpose. He raised up prophets and Nazirites (v. 11), spiritual leaders and examples of holiness. But Israel rejected them, commanding the prophets not to speak and forcing the Nazirites to break their vows (v.12). This was a rejection not just of God’s laws, but of His very messengers and means of grace.


Because of all this, God declares that His judgment is inescapable. “Behold, I will press you down in your place, as a cart full of sheaves presses down” (v. 13). The image is one of crushing weight—judgment so heavy it cannot be escaped. The swift won’t escape (v. 14), the strong won’t prevail, the warrior will fail (v. 14-15). Even the most courageous among them will flee naked (v. 16). This isn’t just military defeat; it’s total moral collapse and divine reckoning.


Amos 2 stands as a sobering mirror for the modern Church, reflecting not just the sins of ancient Judah and Israel, but the recurring patterns of complacency, injustice, and spiritual neglect that can still afflict God’s people today. It reminds us that privilege, whether spiritual heritage, biblical knowledge, or institutional strength, does not shield us from accountability. Rather, it increases our responsibility to walk in obedience, uphold justice, and remain faithful to God’s Word. As Amos called out hypocrisy and called God’s people back to righteousness, so too does this chapter challenge the Church to examine itself honestly, repent where necessary, and recommit to being a people marked by holiness, compassion, and truth. Judgment begins with the house of God—not to destroy, but to purify.


Amos 3 — Judgment Begins with the Household of God

Amos 3 begins with a sobering reminder of Israel’s unique covenant relationship with God. The Lord addresses the entire nation as one people, those whom He personally delivered from Egypt (v. 1). This act of redemption defines their identity and heightens their accountability. Because they are the only nation God has intimately “known,” a term signifying covenantal relationship, not just awareness, they are held to a higher standard. Their special status does not exempt them from judgment; it demands greater responsibility (v. 2).


The next section unfolds through a series of rhetorical questions that build a compelling case for divine justice (v. 3-6). Each question illustrates a cause-and-effect relationship, ultimately pointing to the truth that coming judgment is not random but intentional. God acts with purpose, and what is about to happen is the result of Israel’s persistent rebellion. Crucially, God does not send judgment without warning, but rather He reveals His plans through the prophets (v. 7). Amos, compelled by divine revelation, proclaims this message because when the Lord speaks, the prophet must respond (v. 8). Additionally, once the judgement has been revealed, once the lion has roared —once the sovereign Lord has spoken — Israel’s judgment is sure to follow.


In an ironic twist, the Lord calls upon Israel’s historic enemies, the Philistines and Egyptians, to serve as witnesses to the moral collapse within Israel (v. 9). From the vantage point of Samaria’s mountains, these foreign nations are invited to observe the chaos and oppression that characterize Israelite society. The indictment is striking: the people have become so morally corrupted that they no longer know how to do what is right (v. 10). Injustice is so embedded in their culture that it has become second nature.


Judgment is then described in graphic terms. An adversary will surround the land and destroy its defenses (v. 11-12). What remains of Israel will be minimal, like remnants pulled from ruin. The altars at Bethel, once viewed as places of sanctuary, will be desecrated. Even the “horns of the altar,” traditionally grasped for safety, will be cut off (v. 14). Luxurious homes and seasonal estates adorned with ivory, which resulted from their commercial exploitation, will be demolished (v. 15). Amos makes clear that neither religious ritual nor economic wealth can shield a corrupt people from God’s justice. Their outward success and piety cannot cover their inward decay.


Israel’s covenant with God meant deeper responsibility, not exemption from judgment, and the same is true for us. God’s justice is never random; it is purposeful, and He always sends warnings before acting. The chapter reminds us that injustice corrupts worship, and false securities, whether religious or material, cannot shield us from divine accountability. As those who have been graciously “known” by God, we are called to live with integrity, humility, and justice.


Amos 4 — Divine Warnings and the Call to Return

In his second message, Amos announced that God would send the wealthy women of Samaria, described metaphorically as “cows of Bashan” (v. 1), into exile because of their exploitation of the poor. This phrase underscores their indulgent lifestyle, lavish, self-satisfied, and detached from the suffering of others. They lived in luxury while oppressing the poor and demanding continued excess. This is more than a critique of personal indulgence; it is a condemnation of wealth built on injustice.


God’s response is firm and rooted in His holiness. He vows that these women will be taken away like animals with hooks, using an image that reflects the cruelty of coming exile (v. 2-3). The judgment is both vivid and humiliating, signifying the end of their comfort and the beginning of divine reckoning. The Lord’s holiness means He cannot ignore sin; His character demands justice, especially when His people defile what is meant to be holy.


Attention then turns to Israel’s religious life, exposing its empty rituals. Places like Bethel and Gilgal had become centers of showy but hollow worship, where people performed religious duties while their hearts remained hardened (v. 4-5). God mocks their ceremonies, pointing out that their offerings only deepen their guilt because they substitute religion for repentance. Their pride in outward acts masked inner rebellion, turning worship into an offense rather than a refuge.


In an escalating pattern of divine discipline, God recounts how He brought famine, drought, crop failure, plagues, and even war, each intended as a wake-up call to provoke repentance (v. 6-11). Yet after each warning, the refrain is the same: “Yet you did not return to Me.” These judgments weren’t simply punitive; they were meant to be redemptive. But Israel resisted at every turn, clinging to self-sufficiency rather than turning back to God.


Finally, the chapter reaches a sobering conclusion. Because all previous warnings were ignored, God declares that Israel must now prepare to meet Him, not in blessing, but in judgment (v. 12). This encounter is not about relationship; it is about accountability. The chapter ends with a vision of God’s unmatched power and sovereignty as the One who forms mountains, stirs the wind, and reveals His thoughts to humanity (v. 13). To stand before such a God unprepared is to face a terrifying reality. Amos’s message is clear: persistent rebellion eventually leads to unavoidable reckoning.


Chapter 4 exposes the dangers of using religious activity to mask injustice, pride, and self-indulgence. God sees through hollow ritual and hears the cries of the oppressed, and His discipline, even when severe, is an act of mercy meant to draw His people back. The repeated refusal to return to Him only heightens the seriousness of the final warning: “Prepare to meet your God.” This is not merely a threat, but a final invitation and a call to repentance before judgment falls. For us today, the message is urgent: examine your heart, respond to God’s correction, and return to Him while there is still time. God is not only sovereign and holy. He is also personal, patient, and calling.


Amos 5 — A Lament and a Call to Seek the Lord

Amos 5 opens not with judgment, but with lament. The prophet delivers a funeral dirge over Israel, mourning a nation still physically alive yet spiritually dead (v. 1). Israel is likened to a fallen young woman, forsaken and beyond recovery, a tragic image of defeat and abandonment (v. 2). Once proud and strong, the nation will suffer catastrophic loss, as even large military forces are reduced to a fraction of their strength (v. 3).


Yet even in grief, God’s mercy remains. A passionate plea cuts through the darkness: seek the Lord and live. This is the central message of the chapter (v. 4-6). Israel is urged to return to God Himself, not to sacred locations like Bethel, Gilgal, or Beersheba, which have become symbols of religious corruption (v. 5). These places, once holy, now represent false confidence. The theological point is clear. True life is found in relationship with the living God, not in religious ritual. If the people do not turn back, divine judgment will consume them like fire, and nothing will be able to extinguish it (v. 6).


The focus then shifts to Israel’s moral failures. Justice has become bitter, and righteousness has been cast aside (v. 7). What was meant to bring flourishing now brings harm. God, in contrast, is described as the Creator of the stars and the Lord over nature and history (v. 8). This sharp juxtaposition of God’s majesty with Israel’s moral decay amplifies the seriousness of their sin. The people are condemned for trampling the poor, corrupting the legal system, and enriching themselves through oppression (v. 10-12). The courts, meant to uphold justice, have become places of bribery and exclusion.


Still, hope has not vanished. A call to repentance echoes once more: seek good and not evil, so that life and divine presence may be restored (v. 14). God promises to be with those who pursue justice. The command is not just personal, it is public: hate evil, love good, and establish justice in the gates, the places where societal decisions are made (v. 15). If there is genuine repentance, there remains a possibility that God will show grace to the remnant.


However, without change, sorrow is certain. Grief will fill every corner of society, including marketplaces, vineyards, and public spaces, as God moves not in deliverance, but in judgment (v.16-17). This reversal of the Exodus pattern is striking: the God who once passed over His people in mercy will now pass through them in wrath.


To those who longed for “the day of the Lord,” Amos issues a stern warning. They assumed it would bring vindication, but it will be a day of darkness, not light (v. 18-20). Amos uses vivid imagery to show that this judgment will be inescapable. The people who think they are safe because of their religious identity are in for a rude awakening, as the day of the Lord will expose every hidden sin and false hope.


Perhaps the strongest rebuke comes as God rejects Israel’s worship. Their gatherings, sacrifices, and songs are all detestable to Him because they lack righteousness (v. 21-23). God is not interested in ritual without justice. What He does desire is clear: justice flowing like a mighty river, and righteousness like a never-failing stream (v. 24). This is the essence of genuine worship—lives and societies that reflect God’s character.


The chapter closes with a sobering reminder of Israel’s long history of rebellion. Even in the wilderness, they failed to worship God rightly (v. 25). Now, instead of honoring Him, they carry idols and pagan images associated with false gods (v. 26). Because of this unfaithfulness, God declares that He will send them into exile far beyond their borders, a prophecy pointing to Assyria’s coming conquest (v. 27).


Amos 5 offers a sobering reminder that God is not impressed by outward religion disconnected from inward righteousness. The chapter opens with a lament, signaling that what follows is not just criticism, but grief over a people unwilling to return to their God. It becomes clear that God desires relationship, not ritual. Religious activity without repentance is not neutral—it offends a holy God.


This disconnect between worship and justice reveals a deeper issue: justice is not an optional social concern but a reflection of God’s very character. Without it, even the most devout religious practices become hollow. Amos then challenges the false hope placed in “the day of the Lord,” warning that divine intervention is not necessarily favorable for those who live in sin. What was expected to be a day of vindication will instead bring darkness and judgment.


Yet even amid these warnings, there remains a thread of mercy. God’s discipline is always aimed at redemption. He pleads for repentance, offering life to anyone who seeks Him sincerely. But if that call continues to be ignored, the inevitable result is exile—a breaking of fellowship and the scattering of His people.


This chapter challenges all who are religiously active but spiritually complacent. It urges us to examine whether our worship is matched by justice, and whether we are truly seeking God or merely His benefits. The call remains urgent: let justice roll down in our lives, not just in our liturgies, so that we are truly prepared to meet the Lord.


Conclusion

Amos 1–5 reminds us that God is not impressed with empty worship or surface-level morality. He sees through ritual and appearance, looking instead for lives marked by justice, mercy, and righteousness. Israel’s downfall wasn’t due to a lack of religion—it was due to a lack of heart. The message is as relevant now as it was then: we cannot separate our relationship with God from the way we treat others, especially the vulnerable. When God’s people fail to reflect His character, judgment follows—but so does the hope of restoration for those who seek Him and live. In a world often numbed to injustice, Amos invites us to hear God’s roar—and respond with repentance, humility, and action.


Footnotes:

Source: Victor Harold Matthews, Mark W. Chavalas, and John H. Walton, The IVP Bible Background Commentary: Old Testament, electronic edition (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2000), Amos.


  1. 1:1. Chronology

The kings mentioned in Amos’s dating formula establish the timeframe for his prophetic activity. Uzziah of Judah and Jeroboam II of Israel ruled during much of the first half of the eighth century B.C. The earthquake referenced here may correspond to one identified by archaeological excavations at Hazor (stratum 6), dated around 760 B.C. Since Amos describes himself as a non-professional prophet, many scholars suggest that the oracles in this book likely span a relatively brief period, rather than several decades.


  1. 1:3. threshing Gilead. 

Amos 1:3 refers to the brutal oppression of Gilead by Damascus, vividly described as being “threshed with sledges of iron.” This image draws on a familiar agricultural tool—a heavy wooden board with sharp iron or basalt teeth affixed underneath, dragged over grain by oxen while the driver stood on top. It symbolizes ruthless destruction. Historical context supports this depiction: Assyrian annals from Tiglath-Pileser III use similar imagery to describe the devastation of conquered nations. The specific event Amos references may align with the mid-ninth-century invasion of Gilead and the Galilee region by the Syrian king Hazael, as recorded in 2 Kings 8:12 and corroborated by the Tel Dan inscription. This metaphor underscores the extreme cruelty inflicted on Israel by Damascus.


  1. 2:1. burning bones. 

The outrageous nature of this act centers not only on defiling the graves of the kings of Edom, but also on the further step of burning their bones to make lime. In this way, all honor and respect are removed from the bodies, and the Moabites could actually point to walls or houses that had been painted with the resulting lime mixture. On the exhumation of human remains.


  1. 4.1 cows of Bashan

Amos, drawing once again from his experience as a herdsman, uses the image of Bashan’s well-fed cattle to illustrate the self-indulgence of Samaria’s elite women. Bashan, a fertile region east of the Jordan near the Yarmuk River (see Deut. 32:14), was known for its rich grazing land and high-quality livestock. Amos likens these pampered cows to the wealthy wives of nobles and merchants—women consumed by their own comfort and desires. Like cattle focused solely on feeding, these women show no awareness or concern for the suffering around them, even as they demand more wine or luxurious food. Whether Amos had in mind domesticated, pampered animals or wild, powerful ones is unclear—both existed in Bashan—but either image effectively portrays their blind indulgence and lack of compassion.

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