Hosea 11:1-12: a reflection

1“When Israel was a child, then I loved him, and called my son out of Egypt. 2They called to them, so they went from them. They sacrificed to the Baals, and burned incense to engraved images. 3Yet I taught Ephraim to walk. I took them by their arms, but they didn’t know that I healed them. 4I drew them with cords of a man, with ties of love; and I was to them like those who lift up the yoke on their necks; and I bent down to him and I fed him. 5“They won’t return into the land of Egypt; but the Assyrian will be their king, because they refused to repent. 6The sword will fall on their cities, and will destroy the bars of their gates, and will put an end to their plans. 7My people are determined to turn from me. Though they call to the Most High, he certainly won’t exalt them. 8“How can I give you up, Ephraim? How can I hand you over, Israel? How can I make you like Admah? How can I make you like Zeboiim? My heart is turned within me, my compassion is aroused. 9I will not execute the fierceness of my anger. I will not return to destroy Ephraim, for I am God, and not man—the Holy One among you. I will not come in wrath. 10They will walk after the LORD, who will roar like a lion; for he will roar, and the children will come trembling from the west. 11They will come trembling like a bird out of Egypt, and like a dove out of the land of Assyria; and I will settle them in their houses,” says the LORD. 12Ephraim surrounds me with falsehood, and the house of Israel with deceit. Judah still strays from God, and is unfaithful to the Holy One.

This is a deeply tender self-revelation of God. He remembers his people's infancy with a parent's affection: when Israel was a child, I loved him; I taught Ephraim to walk, I took them up by the arms; I led them with cords of kindness, with bands of love; I bent down and fed them. It is the language of a mother or father tenderly raising a child. And then, faced with that child's rebellion and the judgment it deserves, God cries out: How can I give you up, Ephraim? How can I hand you over? My heart recoils within me; my compassion grows warm and tender.

Notice the anguish in it, and where it comes to rest. God does not lightly wave away his people's sin; the judgment is real and deserved. But his love wrestles with his wrath, and love wins: I will not execute my fierce anger; I will not again destroy Ephraim. And hear the reason he gives, astonishing in its intimacy: for I am God and not man, the Holy One in your midst. His mercy triumphs precisely because he is God, not a human being who finally gives up on a wayward child.

That is the heart of God toward his people, and it is a well of comfort. When you have wandered and rebelled and know you deserve to be given up on, hear God ask, over you, How can I give you up? His compassion grows warm; his love wrestles down his wrath; and because he is God and not man, he does not abandon what he loves. You are held by a love that recoils from letting you go, a tender, parental, unquenchable love. Rest in the God who cannot bring himself to give you up.

Lord, when I have wandered and rebelled and deserve to be given up on, you cry over me, How can I give you up? Thank you that your compassion grows warm, that your love wrestles down your wrath, and that because you are God and not man, you do not abandon what you love. Hold me in the love that recoils from letting me go.