In Hosea 11: 1-4, we see Hosea develop the notion of divine fatherhood. The father-child relationship is used often in prophetic books as a metaphor for the relation between the Lord and Israel. The child is often stubborn and rebellious and is chastised by the father, but the father nonetheless loves the child. The Old Testament can describe the relationship between king and vassal, ruler and ruled, sovereign and subject. in similar terms. 1When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son. We see here the importance in the Old Testament of the filial relationship between Israel and the Lord, here designating the whole of the covenant people as the children of God.[2] The initiative belongs to Yahweh. See Ex 4:22. The period is deliverance from Egypt. This text opens with words made most familiar to us by their use in Matthew 2:15. The gospel writer could have found no other prophetic text that could communicate parental concern quite so touchingly. Although Matthew's gospel uses Hosea's words to explain Jesus' personal history, the prophet's proclamation in 11:1 is quite clearly a reference to the nation-building exodus event in the life of Israel. Scholars identify the divine testimony that claims, "out of Egypt I called my son" as representative of "election love." The escape from Egypt was steeped in God's parental purpose. The people who would be Israel were already "loved" and "called" to a sovereign purpose from the moment they stepped away from Pharaoh's bondage. 2 The more I called them, the more they went from me; they kept sacrificing to the Baals, and offering incense to idols. The misbehavior first cited here, however, reveals that from the outset of their relationship, Israel has been a willful, wayward child. The personal pronouns are unclear, making it uncertain whether Hosea intends us to read the one "calling" as Yahweh or Yahweh's prophets ("I" vs. "they"). However, the author firmly identifies the direction in which Israel runs -- toward the local gods of the Canaanites, the ba'als. The stanza created by verses 3-4 recounts six different actions that reveal God's unwavering parental love for this "child" Ephraim. 3 Yet it was I who taught Ephraim to walk, I took them up in my arms.[3] Equating the newfound nation of Israel created by the exodus event with an infant, God recalls how the baby became a toddler. Nevertheless, they did not know that I healed them.[4] This blatant disobedience against both God's singularity and power does not ignite a divine rage at rejection. Instead, God indulges in a fond recalling of the nurturing care showered on the son "Ephraim" (Israel). 4 I led them with cords of human kindness, with bands of love. Compassion and love allow Yahweh to draw the willful Israel nearby. Yahweh removes ropes from the arms and brings in the joy with chords of love. I was to them like those who lift infants to their cheeks.[5] I bent down to them and fed them. The God of Jesus is none other than the God of Jewish faith. The thought of divine fatherhood that we find in II Samuel 7:14 and Psalm 2:7 is one that Hosea will incorporate in his preaching in a figurative way, with alternating features of fatherly and motherly care.[6] Throughout this section, we see the electing love of God for the people.[7] In verses 5-7, the righteousness judgment of Yahweh reasserts itself through exile and slavery. 5 They shall return to the land of Egypt, and Assyria shall be their king, because they have refused to return to me. Hosea accuses Israel of a failure to repent. 6 The sword rages in their cities, it consumes their oracle-priests, and devours because of their schemes. The sword will finish the strong men of the cities. 7 My people are bent on turning away from me. To the Most High they call, but he does not raise them up at all. In verses 8-9, the enduring love of Yahweh expresses itself in the anguished cry of a parent. Hosea's God cannot leave this matter alone. What would appear to be a simple case of disobedience and swift divine judgment instead becomes another example of God's unreasonable love and obsessive mercy toward Israel. 8 How can I give you up, Ephraim? How can I hand you over, O Israel? This suggests the agony in God's mind, searching for a way of evading the response to which God is committed in the covenant curses. See Leviticus 26 and Deuteronomy 28. Yet, the text still views Yahweh as undecided, even as Hosea has already pronounced judgment oracles throughout Chapters 4-10. How can I make you like Admah? How can I treat you like Zeboiim? My heart recoils within me, like a heart attack; my compassion, which is like the love of a mother feeling the stirring of her unborn child in her womb, grows warm and tender. While God did not shrink from destroying the sinful Sodom and her sister cities Admah and Zeboiim, the thought of passing such an unmerciful final judgment on Ephraim causes God's parental heart to "recoil." The tenderness of a parent's love overcomes the dicta of the divine judge on disobedience, and God declares that Israel will yet receive a second chance. In the amazing confession here, we see God describing the wrenching passions of the inner life of God. These words stand between the execution of the sentence of judgment and his appeal and commutation of this sentence. This depiction of the depths of divine mercy here link with the surging familial passions evoked in the family affairs of Hosea in Chapters 1-3. Such revelations of the heart of God are decisive in making possible the transformation of our own. 9 I will not execute my fierce anger; I will not again destroy Ephraim. Exile and punishment will be only part of Israel's lot. Mercy and restoration will also come from the hand of Yahweh. We see here the mercy of God can interrupt, halt, or turn aside the wrath of God, indicating that wrath is not an attribute of God.[8] Such a change of heart is like that of Jonah 3. The divine explanation for this unexpected reprieve, this unmerited mercy, is the Godhood itself: for I am God and no mortal, a point made in Numbers 23:19 that makes the opposite point, that therefore God does not change his mind, the Holy One in your midst, and I will not come in wrath. God is God. God can do whatever God wants to do. Ephraim's deliverance is possible only through God's divine exercise of pure grace. To what aspect of God's character does Hosea appeal? Hosea appeals to the character of justice, for if God gave special treatment to Ephraim that would be showing partiality. Note the appeal to God's holiness. Unlike Amos, Hosea does not pray to allay God's anger. God reveals the divine compassion in the restoration that takes place after judgment. Beyond every threat of judgment, the holiness of God also means hope of new and definitive salvation. Despite human sin, God is faithful to the divine election. Divine holiness finds expression here, the difference between the divine attitude and a human attitude.[9] Yes, God is not like a human being. God does not react as a human being reacts. In verses 10-11, we find the theme of a new exodus. 10 They shall go after the Lord, who roars like a lion; when he roars, his children shall come trembling from the west. 11 They shall come trembling like birds from Egypt, and like doves from the land of Assyria; and I will return them to their homes, says the Lord. The "love text" closes with a promise that sounds as sweet to Yahweh's ears as it must to the people of Israel. After they have suffered exile, God will deliver them from foreign lands. Called back by a mighty roar, God will gather God's scattered children and shall travel homeward. Despite all their sins and failures, their loving parent's extraordinary joy is their return home. In 11:12-12:1, Ephraim has surrounded the Lord with lies and deceit, [while Judah still walks with God and is faithful.] Ephraim herds the wind and multiplies falsehood and violence, making a treaty with Assyria and carries oil to Egypt. They foolishly depend on alliances instead of on the Lord, a point made in previous oracles in Chapter 5 and 7.
The Bible does not hesitate to offer images of God. God is a judge, before whom we come because we are guilty of transgressing the law. God is the king who rules over us. God is the shepherd who guides us. God is the conqueror who defeats enemies and liberates us. Such images suggest strength, and of course, we need a strong God, for we are so often weak.
Yet, I think another image of God is equally as important, even if it is a softer image. I am thinking of the image of God as a lover of humanity. Hosea comes to this image first, as far as I know. God is like a loving husband, devoted to his wife. Yet, the wife has sought the arms of another, and the husband is sick in heart. Hurt tears apart the loving heart of the husband. God is also like a loving parent, wanting the children to be in a loving and loyal relationship with their divine parent. Yet, the children consistently disobey.
If we stay with this image for a moment, we find that human beings seem to respond to the gentle hints, clues, nudging from God by turning the other way. We respond slowly to the gentle touch. We hear the gentle tune of the song of love from the God who loves us, and we keep our lives so busy and noisy that we do not hear it. God graciously invites us into the family of God, and we often turn the other way. The heart of God is warm with love toward us. Yet, our hearts are often cold toward God.
I suppose that for some, such images of the emotion and feelings of God show that God is weak. We often think of people that way. The loving, kind, and gentle person is, for some, a sign of the weakness of the person. Yet, I wonder if God does not show us another way. We show our strength in seeking relationships with cords of love rather than power.
God may well need to judge. Yet, God does not like the plan. God is in love with people too much. The loving heart of God recoils from letting judgment become the final word. God is unbalanced in love toward wayward people. God has an obsessive love for our fractured humanity. Such love is like the love of a parent for a wayward child.
Jack Nicholson won an Oscar for his role in the movie As Good As It Gets. He makes a good living by authoring stories for children. Yet, he is exceedingly difficult for people to talk with. He seemed strange. Yet, he was suffering from an "obsessive-compulsive disorder" where he could not step on cracks in the sidewalk and had to go through a specific set of acts when locking the door. He also suffered a common cleanliness compulsion that drove him to use one bar of Neutrogena per hand washing. Studies show that the brain is so obsessed that no amount of this focused-on behavior is ever enough. Someone caught in the grip of obsessive-compulsive disorder gets fixated on one idea, one notion, one motion, and is unable to banish it from his or her mind. CAT scans reveal that, physiologically, one area of the brain is stuck in the "on" position. This is like a tape loop that repeats endlessly.
Well, we use the word “obsessive” so loosely. Some people might say that I am obsessive about reading, or obsessive about jogging for as long as I am physically able and going to a fitness club as long as I can.
First, the book of Hosea invites us to consider the anger and the love of parents. We need to discuss both together. Any parent knows that there are "those days" when our children are anything and everything but lovable. Somehow, we manage through the day and heave an enormous sigh of relief as we tuck the last one into bed. Yet looking down at the quiet, sleeping forms of our children -- the same kids we yelled at, grounded, argued with -- our hearts suddenly stir. Under the power of ridiculously obsessive parental love, our own hearts "recoil" at the thought of any hardship or pain visiting our dear little monsters.
I had a day like that with my oldest son, Michael. Our home was across a small parking lot of the church. He was outside with his little brother, and for some reason thought it would be a clever idea to throw rocks on top of the church roof. Well, his little brother picked up a rock, too big for him, and tried to throw it, but it did not make it, and broke a window in the church. I was so angry with him. Of course, going through my mind was a telephone call to the Trustee chair and spending money we did not have on the window. I brought him into his room, spanked him (not recommended when you are angry), and told him to stay in his room all day. After an hour, he came out of his room. “Get back in that room,” I said. He slowly went back in. He came out again. I told him to get back in there. Then he said, “Are you going to be angry with me forever?” I realized I went too far, though he did not do it again! Could I be angry with him forever? Of course not. The love for him must overthrow the anger.
Do you have room in your heart for this view of God, whose love constantly overthrows anger?
Second, let us consider who pursues us. James Whittaker was a member of the handpicked crew that flew the B-17 Flying Fortress. The captain was Eddie Rickenbacker. In October 1942, they were reported lost at sea. The nine men spent the next month floating in three rafts. They fought the heat, the storms, and the water. Ten feet long sharks rammed nine-foot boats. They ate their rations within eight days. It would take miracle for them to survive. One morning, after devotions, Captain Rickenbacker leaned his head back against the raft and pulled his hat over his eyes. A sea gull landed on his head. He caught it and the crew ate it. They used parts of the bird to catch fish. The crew survived to tell the story. As Max Lucado tells the story, he says it is a story of salvation. A visitor from outside their world comes to them, sacrifices its life, and gives life to the crew. However, that was only physical life. James Whittaker was an unbeliever, and one of the crewmembers. He became irritated with one of his fellow crewmembers for reading from the Bible aloud. His protests did not stop the man from reading. Nor did his protests stop the word of God from entering his heart. God prepared his heart. It was while the man was reading from the Bible that the sea gull landed on the Captain’s hat. At that moment, James Whittaker became a believer. Max Lucado said that when he received the letter from Mrs. Whittaker that related this story, he laughed. He believed story. He believed the conversion was real. However, he said, “I had to chuckle at . . . please excuse me . . . I had to chuckle at God.” He explains his reaction in the following way. The rest of the world rightly occupies itself with Germany and Hitler. Every headline mentions Roosevelt and Churchill. The world has locked itself in a struggle for freedom. Yet, God is in the Pacific sending a missionary pigeon to save a soul. Oh, the lengths to which God will go to get our attention and win our affection.[10]
In your idea of God, do you have room for this picture of God? Can you view God as the great lover of the human soul, pursuing us with love?
Do you have room in your heart for the God who sought John Wesley? He studied for the ministry and became a failed missionary. He went unwillingly to a Bible study on Aldersgate Street in London. The leader read from a book two hundred years old. He felt his heart strangely warmed. He became the founder of Methodism.
Do you have room in your heart for the God who sought Augustine? He lived with a mistress at the time. Yet, he felt the call of God. He sat on a bench. Children played near him. He heard a voice, “Pick it up.” A parent probably said this to a child. However, he looked to his side and saw a Bible. He interpreted it as the voice of God. He picked up the Bible, and read about leaving the ways of sin and darkness and walking as children of light. He left his former way of life and became one of the great saints and theologians of the church.
I know God sought me. In one sense, I was an easy catch. My mother decided to take us five children to church. I knew there was something being said, and more importantly lived, in that church, that I needed in my life. I look back on my life, and that was the most crucial decision in my life. Yet, it was more than one decision. It has been a series of decisions, as one challenge after another to that decision has come my way. I chose a life with the community of faith and with God in my life. In one sense, it was one decision. In another sense, I have had to choose repeatedly, ever since. For me, the community of the church became the way God sought me.
Yes, God has a magnificent obsession for you and me.
In many ways, God does not want much. In a more important way, God wants everything. Among my favorite cartoons is "Peanuts." One day, Charlie Brown visits his dad at the barbershop:
My dad likes to have me come down to the barber shop, and wait for him. No matter how busy he is, even if the shop is full of customers, he always stops to say, "Hi" to me...I sit here on the bench until six o'clock, when he's through, and then we ride home together...It really doesn't take much to make a dad happy..."[11]
In one sense, it does not take much to make God happy. God simply wants all of who we are placed in the caring hands of God. One author has put it this way:
It seems to me that people have vast potential. Most people can do extraordinary things if they have the confidence or take the risks. Yet most people don't. They sit in front of the telly and treat life as if it goes on forever.[12]
I am painfully aware that life does not go on forever. I do not want to be putting my time into trivial matters. Life is too short. We have a few brief moments to invest our lives. I hope all of us can see ourselves as being part of the greatest experiment of which we will ever be a part. God is forming individuals into a people who will join in loving the world so much that it becomes a magnificent obsession.
[1] (See The Wesleyan Bible Commentary [Grand Rapids, Mich.: William B. Eerdman's Publishing Company, 1969], III, 583.)
[2]
[3] Certain vagaries in the text make the next claim unclear. Either the text depicts God as guiding the youngster in his first steps -- "taking them by their arms" -- or God is described as giving the toddler a free ride -- "I took them up in my arms."
[4] There is scholarly debate over the dangling nature of the next directive "but they did not know that I healed them." Some scholars suggest that a concluding half-line has been lost, a line that would have linked the images of God "taking them up" and God "healing" the youthful Israel.
[5] Most translations present the writer's image shifting here from a human comparison to that of a domesticated animal. Accordingly, Yahweh is presented as one who "eases the yoke on their jaws," giving them comfort while offering them food to eat. While this has been the most common translation, the NRSV has now adopted an alternative form, one that concludes that the words “on their jaws” were a later addition and thus omits them. Furthermore, this translation interprets the Hebrew yal ("yoke") as yoll ("child"). The resulting verse not only makes sense by keeping the parent-child imagery intact, but also depicts a sweetly tender parental moment: "I was to them like those who lift infants to their cheeks."
[6] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology, Volume 1, 261.
[7] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology, Volume 1, 423.
[8]
[9]
[10] Max Lucado, A Gentle Thunder, 1995, p. 15-17.
[11] (The Parables of Peanuts, 224-225).
[12] (Philip Adams, in Life 101).
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