Hosea, Part III

Picture Hosea, standing and watching his children play. They laugh and kick up the dust as they run and shout at each other. They haven't a care in the world.

Then Hosea looks at them, and in a voice ladened with sadness, says,

God Scatters! Not Loved! Not My People! It's dinner time!

They stop their laughter. They stand still and lower their heads. When Hosea turns and walks back into the house, one of them says,

Why does Abba call us that? He gathers us together and hugs us. He loves us. We are his. We are nobody else's. But everytime he calls us, he puts his face in his hands, and cries. Every time. He wipes his eyes and then gives us a hug. He goes on walks. By himself. Ema is here sometimes, but more often she is away. So, we only have Abba. He seems distant. But we know he loves us, because he'll kiss us goodnight. We wish he'd change our names. They don't match his love for us.

Hosea, like many of God's prophets, not just speaks the word of the Lord, but he demonstrates it. He is an actor in a play called, "God's Call to His Errant People."  Hosea will play the part of God.  Hosea cries when he calls his children's names.

God cries when He calls Israel's name.

Hosea calls his children by names he didn't want to give them--who would want to bestow such names on their loved ones?

But names describe character.

The names Hosea calls out describe the results of Israel's sin: they will be scattered after their enemies descend on them.  They are not loved, not because of who they are but because of what they are doing. They are not acting like His chosen people, but are behaving like pagans. 

But Hosea still loves his children. Deeply.

So does God. Deeply. 

When God calls His children through Hosea, He is shattered by what is to befall them, but He is also angry that they have commited spiritual adultery and have chosen to walk away. They decided, for themselves, what is right. They are devouring the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil--they decide what is good and pursue what is evil.

God did not want to bestow such names on His people--but He must. His children have new names because they pursue a new way of living. 

Perhaps, in a way, they have named themselves.

They are pursuing a pagan way of life--thus, when the true pagans show up, they will be scattered away from God and will dwell among the gods they so lust after.

They are not loved--the gods they are so enamored of do not love them, and care not a wit for their welfare. The people are worshipping figments of a perverted imagination.

They are not God's people--they would rather align themselves with darkness than pursue the light of His love and truth.

God speaks through Hosea a deeper and even more painful message.  But first, He says: 

In that day you will call your brothers Ammi—‘My people.’ And you will call your sisters Ruhamah—‘The ones I love.’

God, before He denounces Israel, reminds his people that He is willing to accept them back when they repent. He will rename them, for despite His denunciation, He still loves them. But with God's mercy, comes His justice. And it rolls down like a mighty stream:

But now bring charges against Israel—your mother—
for she is no longer my wife,
and I am no longer her husband.
Tell her to remove the prostitute’s makeup from her face
and the clothing that exposes her breasts.
Otherwise, I will strip her as naked
as she was on the day she was born.
I will leave her to die of thirst,
as in a dry and barren wilderness.

Israel has clothed herself in garments made of sin.  God wants her to discard such filthy garments, or He will. Once she is stranded in the desert, will she see the sinfulness of her ways? Will her thirst and hunger make her long for the provision and security only Yahweh can provide? Will she seek Him with a repentant heart? 

And I will not love her children,

for they were conceived in prostitution.
Their mother is a shameless prostitute
and became pregnant in a shameful way.
She said, ‘I’ll run after other lovers
and sell myself to them for food and water,
for clothing of wool and linen,
and for olive oil and drinks.’

God is accusing Israel of loving other gods who bless her with the finer things of life.  But Israel, while she may have gained the whole world (in her eyes), she is losing the Lover her soul. But Yahweh will not abandoned her.  He has covenanted Himself to her, as a husband to a bride. He may, for a time, forsake her, but He will never leave her.  

God, although His judgement will fall one day, will protect Israel from herself: 

For this reason I will fence her in with thornbushes.
I will block her path with a wall
to make her lose her way.
When she runs after her lovers,
she won’t be able to catch them.
She will search for them
but not find them.
Then she will think,
‘I might as well return to my husband,
for I was better off with him than I am now.’
She doesn’t realize it was I who gave her everything she has—
the grain, the new wine, the olive oil;
I even gave her silver and gold.
But she gave all my gifts to Baal. (2:1-8) 

The last line is terribly painful:  Israel is so steeped in her spiritual adultery that she ascribes her wealth and abundance to a god that doesn't even exist. She takes the gifts from Yahweh and hands them over to a fake, a deceiver, a demon. 

She walked away from love and light into sin and darkness.   

But still, even still, He watches over her and wants her back.

How can we say we've gone beyond God's reach when we sin? How can we listen to such a lie? How can we think that of other people and their sin? 

Isaiah reminds us: "Listen! The LORD’s arm is not too weak to save you, nor is his ear too deaf to hear you call." (59:1)

Amen.