The Basket of Summer Fruit — Amos 8 and the Urgency of Returning to the Lord

When Amos stood before the people of Israel with a basket of summer fruit, it must have looked harmless enough, a simple, everyday image from life in the land. But the Lord often takes what is familiar and uses it to press home eternal truth. “Amos, what do you see?” the Lord asks. “A basket of summer fruit,” he replies (Amos 8:1–2). And then God unveils the meaning:

“The end has come upon my people Israel; I will never again pass by them.”

In Hebrew, the words for summer fruit (קַיִץ, qayitz) and end (קֵץ, qetz) sound nearly identical. It’s a prophetic pun, sharp, memorable, and unsettling. Israel was like a basket of overripe figs: attractive on the outside, but moments away from spoiling. The time of opportunity was closing. The moment for repentance was about to rot on the table.

A People Ripe for Judgment

The summer fruit symbolizes ripeness, not for blessing, but for judgment. Israel’s worship continued, their sacrifices continued, their festivals continued… but their hearts had long since wandered. They trampled the poor (8:4), cheated with dishonest scales (8:5), and viewed the Sabbath as an inconvenient interruption to profit. They recited prayers while plotting injustice. They sang psalms while nursing idolatry.

God will not bless a people who only want Him as a religious garnish.

The Lord’s word through Amos exposes the painful truth: Israel’s zeal for ceremony hid a hollowness of soul. Their piety ripened toward catastrophe. They were, as one commentator put it, “religiously active and spiritually empty.”

The Famine Worse Than Hunger

Then comes the most chilling warning of all:

“Behold, the days are coming… when I will send a famine on the land, not a famine of bread, nor a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the LORD.” (8:11)

There is no judgment more severe than being left alone with our sin.

When God withdraws His Word, He withdraws His mercy.

When He removes the lamp of Scripture, He removes the path of life.

Israel’s greatest threat was not Assyria, it was the silence of heaven.

And in every generation, this danger is real. A people who repeatedly refuse to listen eventually lose the ability to hear. A congregation that treats God’s Word as optional soon finds it unintelligible. A heart that trifles with Scripture risks becoming calloused to it.

Spiritual deafness is not sudden; it is the final stage of long neglect.

Our Moment of Ripeness

We, too, live in a season of summer fruit.

We have shelves of Bibles, yet struggle to open them.

We have podcasts, sermons, resources, commentaries, yet the Word often sits unopened while lesser voices fill our days.

We confess Scripture’s authority while giving it our leftovers.

We lament the state of the culture while ignoring the state of our souls.

The warning of Amos 8 is not locked in ancient Israel. It is a mirror held before the church today. The Lord is patient and abounding in steadfast love, but His patience is not permission. A basket of fruit only stays fresh for so long.

A Call to Return Before the Word Grows Silent

If the Spirit uses Amos 8 to stir conviction, even the faintest tremor, do not brush it aside. Overripe fruit doesn’t grow firm again. Repentance delayed is repentance endangered.

But repentance embraced?

That is where renewal begins.

Turn from the sin that has slowly numbed your soul.

Turn from the distractions that drown out God’s voice.

Turn from the idols, quiet, respectable, culturally acceptable, that have replaced Scripture in shaping your affections.

Turn toward the Lord while His Word still calls, still convicts, still comforts, still reveals Christ.

The same God who warned Israel also welcomed prodigals.

The same Lord who threatened silence still speaks to the humble.

The same voice that announced judgment still whispers mercy to those who bend the knee.

Before the famine comes, feast.

Before the silence falls, listen.

Before the basket spoils, return to the One who offers life.

May the Lord give us ears to hear, hearts to obey, and souls renewed by the living, enduring, life-giving Word.

SDG

Lesson from the Linden Tree

When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long.
For all day and night your hand was heavy upon me;
my strength was dried up as by the heat of summer.”
(Psalm 32:3-4 (ESV)

A couple of summers ago we lost one of the really nice Linden trees in our front yard as a tornado blew through town.  I kind of suspected that we’d lose the tree, ants had pretty thoroughly eaten at the base of the tree, and the leaves look sickly.  Sure enough; one strong wind put the tree down on the roof of our front porch.  One tree down, one to go.

Over the last month, I have noticed that the other Linden tree, which stands 40 to 50 feet high, was starting to lose its leaves.  Let me correct that, it wasn’t actually losing the leaves, it’s just that the leaves were all turning brown and shriveling up.  A front moved through last week with some strong winds, and the next morning I found a large, leafless branch laying in the front yard.  And then this week, while watering the yard, I realized that almost all of the leaves of the tree were brown – from all outward appearances, the tree is dead.

Because the tree is on the easement  – that space between the curb and the sidewalk – the city is responsible for removing any dead or dying trees.  When I called the city office they sent someone over to take a look at the tree for us.  Sure enough, he said it was dead as well.  But the city man was stumped (sorry for the pun), he just couldn’t understand why it had died, and why it went so quickly.  He was sure that though the summer has been hot and very, dry Linden trees were drought resistant, and this shouldn’t have happened.  After assuring me that the city would remove the tree (hopefully before it too falls on the house), he drove away, shaking his head in amazement.

Curious, I did a little research (consulted Google).  Come to find out, Linden are very resilient trees, but in extreme drought, they are susceptible to something called Verticillium Wilt.  Verticillium is a fungus that can exist in the ground for 10 years, and while a Linden tree is resistant to the fungus, extreme cases of drought can stress the tree and allow the fungus to enter the roots, spreading toxins which disease and eventually kill the tree.  Our Linden tree may not have Verticillium, but the picture on the information at the ISU Extension website looks exactly like our tree did about a month ago.

So if this is Verticillium, our tree is as good as dead.  The fungus had lived around the tree for years, waiting for the right opportunity to enter the roots – an opportunity that came when the rain stopped and the drought came.  With no rain to feed the roots, the tree began to open itself up to anything and everything it could find for nourishment.  Enter the disease.  The toxin entered the tree, dried the flowers, browned the leaves, and turned the strong and supple branches of the tree brittle and weak.  One summer of drought revealed the nature of the soil and the tree – and now the tree must go.

Have you ever found that the droughts in your life reveal the health and the strength of your faith?  Like a tree planted by the river, our faith and trust in God grows and flourishes, bringing cover and shelter to every aspect of our lives.  Because of our faith we can face the challenges this world presents us.  We know that God has delivered us in the past, that God has secured his promises for us in Christ Jesus, and so we can look on tomorrow that God will be faithful still.  When we stand by the stream, fed by the Word of God through regular study, worship, fellowship, sin is kept at bay and tremendous growth is seen.

But what about when that stream dries up.  What happens to our faith when we go through times of drought and famine in spirit?  Sometimes the drought comes from the Lord, but usually it is self-imposed.  For whatever reason we turn away from the reading of God’s Word, going to Worship and spending time with other believers takes a back-seat to “more important things,” prayer becomes a quiet, tedious, and unproductive thing.  The sin that permeates the world around us, that was repelled by the nourishment from God’s stream, creeps back into our lives.

Absence from the Word of God, from regular worship, study, and fellowship, does not make the heart grow stronger.  No, it invites the sins that would destroy us back into our lives so that our faith is choked out by the cares, worries, and passions of the world.  Spiritual drought reveals the nature of our faith, and until we return to the Lord, the only one who had feed and nourish our souls, we will wilt and wither on the branch.

Jesus said, “Abide in me, and I in you.  As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me.  I am the vine; you are the branches.  Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.  If anyone does not abide in me he is thrown away like a branch and withers…” (John 15:4-6).  There is no spiritual health, no nourishment, no life apart from Christ.  Does your spirit long for the water of life?  Has the poison of sin seeped into your life?  Then come to the fountain.  Come to Christ.  “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink.  Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.’ (John 7:37-38).

Friends, end the drought, come to Jesus.  Let him nourish your soul with the water of life.  Abide in him, drink him in, and he will become in you a “spring of water welling up to eternal life” (John 4:14).

SDG