This paragraph continues the themes developed throughout Amos, especially chapters 3–6. It closely echoes the previous section (5:18–27) with its cries of “woe,” its pronouncements of exile, and its critique of music and revelry. As before, the people are living with deep spiritual misunderstanding. They need the curtains drawn back—the prophet’s words are meant to awaken them to how God truly sees things.

Amos has already declared that Israel is as good as dead (5:1–3), and yet the elite continue on as if nothing has changed. They do not grieve, repent, seek help, or even complain. Just as they misunderstood the Day of the Lord—expecting joy and blessing instead of darkness and judgment—they now dismiss Amos’s message, assuming that any judgment is far off. They believe they are safe and secure.

So Amos pronounces another woe, this time directed at the complacent elite—those who are “at ease in Zion” and who “feel secure on the mountain of Samaria.” These are the political and religious centers of the Southern and Northern Kingdoms, where nobles and leaders resided. While the focus of Amos’ message is on Israel, Judah is included here as a warning. Injustice and pride, wherever they are found, are detestable to God. These elites take great pride in being “first of the nations”—a reference to their calling as God’s chosen people (Exod. 19:5–6; Deut. 7:6). They trust in their fortified cities (2 Kings 14:25–28), their national story, and their positions of influence. People come to them for favor, help, or recognition. But Amos has already exposed their failure—they trample the poor and silence the needy. Their pride in legacy and security blinds them to the reality of coming judgment.

To pierce their delusion, Amos challenges them to visit other great cities: Calneh, Hamath, and Gath. Each had enjoyed power and prominence, but all had experienced decline or destruction. These weren’t obscure places—Amos’s audience would know what happened to them. If those once-great cities could fall, so can Israel. Yet instead of humility and repentance, the leaders dismiss the threat. They push God’s word far away while drawing violence and injustice near. They are willfully blind to what is coming.

Rather than mourn or change their ways, the elite continue their lavish lives. Verse 7 refers to “revelry,” a rare word likely indicating elite feasting gatherings—perhaps associated with ancestor memorials, cultic celebrations, or extravagant upper-class parties. These feasts involved excessive drinking and often sexual indulgence. The wealthy recline on ivory beds—extravagant luxury in a culture where most slept on mats. They dine on gourmet meat from stall-fed animals—another privilege of the rich. They fill their time by improvising songs and playing instruments – even imagining themselves to be like David. They drink wine by the bowlful and they anoint themselves with the finest imported oils.

On one level, Amos critiques their luxury, ease, and disregard for others. Like the “cows of Bashan” in chapter 4, they indulge themselves while the poor suffer. They drown out the suffering, God’s word and warning with celebration. But there’s more: many of the items mentioned had religious associations—festival meats, anointing oil, musical worship, bowls from cultic rituals. Instead of honoring God, they’ve created a rival liturgy centered on wealth, power, and personal pleasure. Their religion has become idolatry. The feasts that should have been covenant celebrations have turned into self-indulgent mockeries.

The irony is piercing. They sing—even though God has said He hates their songs (5:23). They lounge on couches—though God said their furniture will be broken and looted (3:12). They drink wine—though God warned in 5:11 they will not enjoy the vineyards they planted. They eat fine meat—though they behave like the cows of Bashan who trample others. Every act of luxury is a direct contradiction to what God has spoken. Rather than respond to judgment with repentance, they respond with revelry.

They do not grieve the ruin of Joseph. That phrase in verse 6 is telling. Joseph represents the whole of Israel, now collapsing under judgment—and no one mourns. They should be fasting, repenting, praying—but instead, they feast and sing. If their parties were meant to honor the dead, Amos suggests a grim reversal: they are unknowingly honoring themselves. They are the ones dying, and their celebrations are a funeral feast in disguise.

And so Amos delivers the final word. The ones who were first—the prominent, the pampered, the prideful—will be the first to go into exile. Their celebrations will be cut off. Their luxury will be shattered. The word of the Lord they ignored will prove true, but it will be too late.

God has warned of coming death and destruction. Israel will be like a fallen maiden, and all will mourn her death. He already swore an oath in 4:2—confirmed again in the previous passage—that an unnamed enemy will overtake them. Survivors will be led into exile, with the very leaders who prided themselves on being “first” now going first into judgment. But despite these warnings, no one is paying attention. The people go on partying as if all is well.

Now, for the second time, the Lord—Commander of heaven’s armies—makes an oath. His statement is absolute: since He has declared it, it will come to pass. His promise is this—He will hand over the city and everything in it. An army will overrun Israel, and no one will escape. Though He uses a human force, it is ultimately God's judgment at work. In a striking reversal, the very crime for which God judged others—delivering entire populations to Edom (1:6, 9)—now falls on Israel. They too are being delivered over as a whole people, not by human betrayal but by divine judgment.

As in 5:21–24, where God declared His hatred of empty worship void of justice, so here He expresses His hatred of Israel’s pride and strongholds. Their pride has made them deaf to God's voice. They assume their downfall is impossible because of their strength and status—"first among the nations." Their palaces and military might have become false refuges—their supposed “rock” in times of trouble. But these strongholds have become idols—objects of misplaced trust that cannot save. And because these idols have displaced faith in God, He now stands opposed to them.

To underscore the certainty of judgment, Amos offers a short, grim story. Even if ten people manage to survive the attack and hide in a single house, they too will die—likely from plague or disease, which often follow war. Echoing 5:1–3, where only ten out of a hundred returned from battle, now even these ten perish. It recalls the image from 5:19 of someone escaping danger only to be bitten by a snake at home. Their pride and strongholds will not save them—they are false hopes that end in death.

The story grows more haunting. A family member comes to dispose of the ten corpses. Cremation is mentioned—something rare and generally avoided in Israel unless in cases of plague, punishment, or dishonor (see Lev 20:14; 1 Sam 31:12–13). Perhaps these died of disease, or perhaps this is a sign they are considered cursed—receiving the judgment of criminals. Another person in the house confirms there are no more dead, and then adds a sobering instruction: “Hush! We must not mention the name of the Lord.” His name, once invoked for help, has become dangerous to speak. It’s as though the Lord, once their covenant-keeping God, has now become like a divine warrior—silent and precise, waiting to strike, like a sniper in hiding. This marks a chilling reversal: their once-loud worship and festivals have ended in silence and dread. Their silencing of God's voice has now led to their own silencing.

And even the houses themselves collapse as the survivors flee. Their homes—symbols of strength and security—crumble into dust. The destruction is total, from the great house to the little one. Some see in this a reference to the great earthquake mentioned in 1:1. Whether by military invasion, plague, or natural disaster, the message is clear: prideful Israel is not secure. Their strength is a delusion. All will be destroyed—houses, people, pride, and the idols they trusted.

As he concludes this section, Amos returns to his favored rhetorical device—a series of absurd questions, just like in 3:3–6. These are questions with an obvious answer: “no.” No one would race horses on rocky cliffs. No one would try to plow the sea with oxen. The answer is not only “no,” but absurd! And yet, Amos says, Israel has done something even more ridiculous: they have turned justice into poison and righteousness into bitterness. These were meant to be the foundation stones of the society God was forming among them. But they have twisted what was meant to bring life into something repulsive and toxic. They have flipped the created moral order upside down.

The imagery here echoes the curses Moses used to describe the fruit of rebellion and idolatry. The words “poison” and “wormwood” are used in Deuteronomy 32:32–33 to describe the legacy of Sodom and Gomorrah, and again in Deuteronomy 29:18 to describe the bitter root of idolatry. By rejecting justice, Israel has made themselves look like idolatrous Sodom—an absurd people heading toward obvious judgment.

This line about justice and righteousness repeats the indictment from 5:7. In both places, the prophetic pattern is the same: a description of their coming destruction is followed by a summary of why. Their sin is not simply neglect—it is inversion. They haven’t just failed to practice justice and righteousness; they’ve corrupted them. The repetition shows just how central this accusation is to the whole book. It captures Israel’s condition in a single, stinging line.

Rather than boasting in justice or pursuing righteousness, Israel boasts in their military victories. In deep irony, Amos says they rejoice in having taken Lo-debar—which he twists to mean “nothing.” They’re celebrating “nothing-ville.” He also mentions Karnaim, a city whose name means “horn,” a symbol of strength. Israel boasts, “Have we not taken Karnaim by our own strength?” But Amos exposes the absurdity. Just as no one can plow the sea with oxen, it is equally absurd to think Israel’s success has come by their own might. The prophet has already made it clear (3:6) that cities fall only by the sovereign hand of God. Their boast is not just wrong—it’s blasphemously self-reliant. It is prideful and delusional.

In response, God declares that He will raise up a nation to oppress and destroy them. Earlier they claimed to be “first among the nations” (6:1), but now the true Lord of the nations will raise up another to bring them down. There is a haunting echo here of 5:2, where God said Israel had fallen and would not rise again. But now God does promise to raise something: not Israel, but a foreign nation that will bring His judgment. The coming destruction will be complete—from Lebo-hamath in the far north to the Brook of the Arabah in the far south. This covers the full extent of Israel’s expanded borders under Jeroboam. Everything will fall. Nothing will be spared.

Amos is essentially saying: “Well done, Israel! You’ve conquered Nothingville and Strong-city… and it’s all for nothing. Now God will conquer you—from top to bottom of your swollen kingdom.” With this ironic punch, Amos concludes this major section of his prophecy. What comes next is a new section—a series of visions that will further reveal the certainty and nature of Israel’s downfall.