Amos 8:10Meaning & Commentary from the Church Fathers

If you acknowledge the profound miracle that Christ was crucified during the Passover feast, you will simultaneously observe that, in response to this, their celebrations turned to mourning when the Romans invaded, causing all the Jews to flee to Jerusalem, resembling a common trap; in the midst of the feasts themselves, as history records, they faced destruction by fire and sword, amidst cries of despair. Thus, when such a vast calamity befell them, the transmutation of joy into sorrow and of melodies into mourning was as obvious as the sun setting at noon. This indeed highlights all that has been conveyed. For two years, war kept the Jews in sorrow and brought suffering to all Judea, enduring to this very day. Where, then, is the temple? Where is the priesthood? Where is the kingship? Where is their rightful place? Where is the city of the Law? All has passed, all has faded, all has crumbled to dust: when the sun set, all was turned to sorrow. Now, since this transpired for the sake of the divine ordinances at the time of the Saviour's passion, we too, during each Passover celebration, strive to renew the significance of the ordinance. We attempt to align certain times, observing not only the fourteenth day for various reasons, both expressed and implied, but also because the sun set at noon; it must be understood that the darkness was not a natural occurrence, according to Greek science, but an act of divine judgment, as has been reiterated, for it did not happen during the moon's passage, but when the moon rose in perfect opposition to the sun, ensuring that the fourteenth day serves as an everlasting sign of the miracle that occurred.

Indeed, overwhelming sorrow has the power to bewilder the mind; unforeseen and harsh events cloud the heart, while deep grief casts a shadow or gloom over the spirit of those who suffer. Thus, even in daylight, they will perceive darkness. Those who once joyfully celebrated with instruments and songs will retreat from such festivities and adopt a demeanor befitting mourners, donning tearful garments. It is indeed improper to expose one’s head in mourning, just as Job did when he lost his children (Job 1:20). The mourning for Jacob will be akin to that of a beloved child lost, as a mother or father grieves for their deceased offspring. Likewise, those in the company of Judah and Benjamin, who shared in the idolatrous practices of Ephraim, will experience their own day of anguish, akin to labor pains, produced by fear and sorrow. Following Sennacherib’s devastation of Samaria and the capture of its cities, he sent Rabshekeh from Lachish to Jerusalem, delivering dire threats that instilled despair among the Jerusalemites, who lived in constant anticipation of their own destruction alongside the Samarians. King Hezekiah, in great distress, reached out to Isaiah, lamenting, "This day is a day of sorrow and reproach and rebuke and wrath, for there has come a time to give birth, but no strength to deliver" (Is. 37:3). Thus, the day of sickness is described as a day of sorrow, indicative of the anguish felt by the Jerusalemites who awaited their fate, and who followed the same idolatrous path as Ephraim. Such sentiments are natural for those who provoked the Lord of all, but they resonate even more deeply with those who opposed Immanuel Himself during His incarnation; these are the ones who disregard the Law, intent only on vanquishing the righteous, distorting the commandments of God, and perpetuating suffering upon the vulnerable. They even expressed, "When will the month be over?" (Am. 8:5). The Gospel reveals how the scribes and Pharisees were inherently greedy, as Jesus warned them against avarice and urged them to rise above selfish gain to support the less fortunate through charity. Yet the Evangelist notes that the scribes and Pharisees, as lovers of money, scoffed at Him (Luke 16:14). Thus, it is just to say that the Lord has sworn against Jacob, warning him not to forget his deeds in the end (Am. 8:7). They have egregiously ignored the very laws of God and have ultimately scorned Christ Himself. Consequently, their transgressions shall not fade into obscurity but will lead to the onset of war, symbolized as a flood (Am. 8:8). When they delivered up the Lord of all, darkness fell upon them, and the light was obscured (Am. 8:9), for from the sixth to the ninth hour, darkness enveloped the land (Matt. 27:45). For the Jews, this marked a spiritual darkness within the souls of the crucifiers, as blindness afflicted Israel (Rom. 11:25), leading to a veil over their hearts whenever Moses was read (2 Cor. 3:15). David also lamented, echoing God's sorrow: "Let their eyes be darkened, so that they may not see, and let their backs be bent forever" (Ps. 68:24). Their tears turned festive occasions into mourning, evident when Christ addressed the weeping women on His way to crucifixion, saying, "Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me, but weep for yourselves and your children" (Luke 23:28). They mourned as they faced destruction alongside the city and temple of God, which the Romans laid to waste. Thus, I will regard Him (undoubtedly Emmanuel) as the fervent lament of the beloved, with those around Him experiencing their own day of sorrow, as it is undeniable that they too wept. When they were in despair, the women brought news of Christ’s resurrection, encouraging them to hasten to the tomb. This recalls Isaiah's message, spirit-filled, as he exhorts these women proclaiming the resurrection: "Come, you women who have been shamed, for they are not wise (meaning the people of Judah); for this reason, He who made me will not humble me" (Isaiah 27:11).

By turning away from the Fountain of living water, they faced the punishment of thirst. However, this hunger is not for mere physical bread, nor is their thirst for water; rather, it is a yearning to hear the words of the Lord (Am. 8:11).

This context can also be linked to the afflictions of Christ, when at the sixth hour, the sun concealed its light, reluctant to witness the Savior's suffering on the cross (Luke 23:45). Amidst the profound darkness, their victories celebrated by feasts turned into cries of sorrow, engulfed in tears, repentance, and the wearing of sackcloth, as heads once adorned with the long hair of Nazoreans were now made bare—shorn for the Lord. Consequently, the people of Israel, who laid hands upon the only begotten Son of God, have been consigned to unending mourning, while their latter days are marked by grief. Thus, they, having rejected the Sun of Righteousness, find themselves enveloped in darkness; meanwhile, we who have emerged from the depths of darkness and the shadow of death have witnessed a great light (Isaiah 9:2). Their feasts have been eclipsed by the rites of the church, resulting in their lamentation, while we joyfully exalt the Lord. They are bound in cords and sackcloth instead of girdles, but we, alongside the apostles, are instructed: "Let your loins be girded and your lamps burning" (Luke 12:35). We have clothed ourselves with the truth of Christ, aligning with the scriptural call to “Gird your loins with truth” (Eph. 6:14), while they have donned the falsehood of the devil in place of truth. Our head, which the Savior declares: “to you and the dominions of the heads” (Matt. 10:30), retains abundant hair; and within our head, which is Christ, we possess the strength to conquer even a lion. In contrast, they suffer in the embrace of unfaithfulness, having been shorn by the devil's influence, forfeiting the power that was theirs, as it is written in Ecclesiastes: "The wise man's eyes are in his head, but the foolish man walks in darkness" (Ecclesiastes 2:14). Their companions dwell in continual sorrow, while our fellowship is clothed in garments of joy.

What shall be the outcome? Will it be ‘celebration’ or ‘compassion’? Will there be ‘songs’ of victory or ‘laments’? - It is a challenge to reconcile these opposing emotions. This is why the wise King Solomon distinguished between these occasions. ‘There is a time,’ he observes, ‘to weep, and a time to rejoice’ (Ecclesiastes 3:4). It appears that this is not a moment for exultation, nor for singing solemn hymns. This is not to imply that we should cease to give thanks to God for His past blessings during a time of divine disfavor. Indeed, even amid God's displeasure, we ought to remember with gratitude His previous kindnesses, demanded by justice, and as a source of hope for the restoration of His grace even after periods of wrath. Additionally, in the face of both past blessings and present trials, we ought to praise God, echoing the example of Job: ‘As it is the Lord's will, so it is done; blessed be the name of the Lord forever’ (Job 1:21).

How also did the righteous Job, with a heart inclined towards goodness, succumb to human frailty amid his trials? His own severe affliction bore down upon him, prompting him to ‘arise, tearing his garments, and shorn the hairs of his head, and sprinkled his head with dust’ (Job 1:20) as a visible mark of grief. Therefore, it is more appropriate for us in these times to wear the emblem of sorrow rather than joy, both because of our spiritual frailty and our humble recognition of God’s formidable visitation, particularly in light of our sins. If God is indeed visiting us as a consequence of our wrongdoings, then repentance is of utmost necessity. In this, sorrow for having sinned against God aligns more fittingly with our condition than joy does, provided that this sorrow leads us toward God. ‘Sorrow,’ the Apostle states, ‘that is according to God's will, produces repentance leading to salvation’ (2 Cor. 7:10).

Let us surrender to God’s design in all circumstances; let us heed every sign of His Providence. We must also accept, as part of divine discipline, that our service to God currently cannot be performed with the same joy, solemnity, and communion as in previous years. In earlier times, on this day, all clergy from the capital congregated in the Cathedral of the Assumption. Now, however, local parish clergy remain stationed at their posts, prepared to offer the blessings of Faith to those who suddenly fall ill. Only the clergy from the Cathedrals and Monasteries have been summoned to the Council of the Assumption.

Let us take words appropriate for this moment from Ezekiel, who experienced near death but was miraculously restored: ‘Like a bear, so will I cry, and like a dove, so will I moan; for my eyes fail from looking up to heaven, to the Lord’ (Isaiah 38:14). We do not seek to extract complaints from the Holy Scriptures to deepen our sorrow but to illustrate a picture of redemptive grief. Ezekiel grieved over his serious illness and the impending approach of death, yet he did not complain against God, nor did he despair or lose hope. He cried out to the Lord with reverence; in this context, he compared himself to a timid ‘flapper.’ His prayer was one of humility, depicted by the figure of a ‘dove’ groaning quietly. When it seemed that his initial cries went unheard, he did not succumb to despair but persistently prayed with diligence and faith. Even when his voice faltered, he continued to plead with eyes ‘looking up to the heights of heaven to the Lord.’

And what was the result? The compassionate Lord did not turn away from the pious sorrow; He did not ignore the prayers of those who prayed diligently and with constancy. ‘Deliver me,’ Hezekiah implores, ‘and heal my soul; and this shall be my comfort throughout my days’ (Isaiah 38:14-15). Let us now call out, dear brethren, in our present grief to God with fear and humility, with faith and confidence, with persistence and dedication: ‘How abundant is the Lord's mercy, and extensive His deliverance’ (Psalm 129:6). ‘The Lord kills and brings to life; He brings down to the grave and raises up’ (1 Sam. 2:6).

Lord Jesus Christ, in You ‘there is life’ eternally; in You ‘Life is brought to light’ through time; You ‘hold the keys of Hades and death’ (Rev. 1:18). During Your earthly ministry, You granted life and healing to people in various ways, ensuring that none would be deprived of the hope of Your aid. Not only did You heal the sick through the laying on of hands and mere contact, but You also extended healing from a distance, as with the lepers, and sent forth a potent command for healing to the son of the king’s steward without showing Yourself. You did not disregard the pleas of the Canaanite woman, and through Your grace, You filled the void of faith acknowledged by the father of the boy possessed by demons. For the raising of Jairus’ daughter, You responded to her father’s call; for Lazarus, who did not call upon You, You came; and for the widow of Nain’s son, who had no one to intercede for him, Your mercy alone raised him from death. ‘Where are Your mercies of old, O Lord?’ (Psalm 88:50) For though You may not dwell visibly among us, Your steadfast promise remains, ‘Be with us always, even to the end of the age’ (Matt. 28:20). If death confronts us strongly due to our sins, let not ‘Your life also be revealed in our mortal flesh’ (2 Cor. 4:11), for the glory of Your name. Do not turn away from our humble and unworthy petitions; do not intensify Your wrath because of our disbelief, insensitivity, or impatience; regard the expression of our unbelief as faith, and our sorrow as prayer; and when our vision of You diminishes in weakness, let Your boundless mercy intercede for us.

Behold the widows fearing childlessness; look upon the little ones ‘who do not know their right hand from their left’ (Jon 4:11), who are unaware of the guilt or the sorrow of the orphaned state that awaits them. Look upon us, have mercy, and invisibly send forth Your comforting, healing, life-giving word to us, for ‘Your word shall not return to You empty’ (Isaiah 55:11). Amen.