Dec 6 2019 Amos 5: 1-17

You have built houses of hewn stone, but you shall not live in them;

This morning, we continue with Amos’ dire predictions and prophecy. I know how great your sins are, who push aside the needy at the gate. Because I know all of this, bad things will happen. He does, after some ranting, turn to what the people should do to turn things around. Hate evil and love good. Establish justice at the gates.

While I will never talk about the future in the terms of gloom, doom, and retribution that Amos sees, I do understand that there’s a need for pointing out the future, in hopes to either deter current bad behavior, or encourage good behavior. Amos is not my favorite prophet, and this is another example where I’m grateful the practice of appointed daily readings takes me through Scripture I wouldn’t otherwise touch.

As I read through Amos, I was struck by a couple things he said would happen to the people who ‘trample the poor’. He says they’ll build fine houses, but not live in them, and plant vineyards and not drink their wine.

Recently my husband and I were just talking about the houses we resurrected from near death, and then sold.

One house was dilapidated 800 square foot 1920’s ‘cabin’ for vacationing Seattleites, which was now in prime suburban spot. We put on a new roof, lifted the house to build a foundation under it, took off the asbestos tiles, added some space, and eventually we built a second small home on the property for our eldest pregnant daughter, whose husband had been deployed. This home was on an acre, and eventually had a spectacular vegetable garden and a dozen fruit trees.

Our second resurrected home was in Eugene, and had been vacant for 3 years, with ivy growing into the house, and neighbors able to climb through open windows to see the home of the previous recluse. We lifted that house to repair the foundation, painted, fenced the huge yard to protect from bands of roaming deer – beautiful but not great for gardens, built a chicken coop, and eventually prepared another huge garden with even more fruit trees.

The first home we lived in for 16 years, and we enjoyed some of the fruits of our labor. The second home we were only in for 7 years, so we didn’t really reap much, other than the joy of resurrection. There are definitely moments where we lament the fact that we’re not in the spaces we created, enjoying the grapes we planted. Sometimes we miss them and wonder. . .

Now I live in an apartment. Nothing in it is mine to resurrect or repair. There’s no garden or vineyard. It is a lovely apartment, and given everything else going on in our lives, it is just perfect. There is no chance to get attached to the space or garden. 

This morning, I’m thinking about that balance between feeling grounded in one space and the freedom from not having the deep roots that come with groundedness. It seems that Amos’ warning could be relevant to me, for those times when I ascribe more value to buildings I’ve created or gardens I’ve planted than due. Yes, I’m not living in the fine houses I built, or reaping from the gardens I’ve planted. But without those tethers, I need to create deep roots in something else. I’m spending more time reading, writing, going to gardens, on my bike, walking, going to the farmers market. I can do this in part because I don’t have a house to maintain or garden to weed.

There are definitely benefits from the deep roots created by created space. Today I want to be mindful of the places where I’m creating deep roots that aren’t tied to space.