Hosea 11:1-11
Trembling Home
James Sledge August
4, 2013
Nowadays
they’re as likely to be on our smartphones or tablets as they are to be in an
actual album with real pages, but wherever it is they’re located, most of us
have had the experience of thumbing through a photo album. We’ve done a little
reminiscing via photographs, have looked back and remembered a time when things
were different, when we looked different, when the future perhaps looked
different.
Now
that both of my children are officially adults, having finished college and
gotten jobs, it’s a bit more poignant for me to view pictures of them as
babies, toddlers, or children. Different photos can evoke very different
feelings, feelings of warmth, joy, and
happiness, as well as feelings of sadness and regret. On the child
rearing front, Shawn and I were quite fortunate. We experienced the typical
difficulties, but our daughters arrived at adulthood without a huge number of
missteps on their part our ours. There were ups and downs, but still, things
seem to have turned out pretty well.
On
that count I feel quite lucky because I know that is not always the case. Things
can and do go horribly awry in the course of raising a child. For those who’ve
had such an experience, thumbing through those photos must be a great deal more
difficult than it is for me. And when a child or parent has gotten caught up in
their bad choices, and when this has led to estrangement, looking back at
pictures from before all that, at a time of happiness, of great hope and
promise for the future, must be terribly painful.
When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of
Egypt I called my son… it was I who taught Ephraim to walk, I took them up in my
arms… I was to them like those who lift infants to their cheeks. I bent down to
them and fed them.
God
thumbs through the divine photo album and is distraught. God has loved and
tenderly cared for Israel. The picture Hosea paints seems feminine and mothering.
God has lavished Israel with affection and done everything a parent possibly
could, but Israel has been a rebellions child from the beginning. The more God
called, the more they went the other direction. They seemed hell bent on
self-destruction and oblivious to all that God had done for them.
All
of us have a capacity for self-destructive behavior. All of us do or say things
we know we shouldn’t and that we regret almost as soon as we do or say them. I
know I get frustrated and even angry at myself in such moments, but I think it
is even more difficult to watch one’s own child engage in such behavior and not
be able to change it. One Bible commentator says, “The divine response in this
text is not unlike that of most loving parents who are never more angry with
their children than when they do self-destructive things.”[1]
Looking
at Israel and where their foolishness and rebelliousness has taken them; then
looking at those photos of a young child who had been so tenderly lifted and
held against her cheek, it is more than God can bear. God’s heart is wrenched
by feelings of love and anger. The prophet depicts a God literally in anguish.
But
out of God’s own inner turmoil, new hope arises. I have long thought them some
of the most poignant words in all the Bible. How can I give you up, Ephraim?
How can I hand you over, O Israel?.. My heart recoils within me; my compassion
grows warm and tender. 9I will not execute my fierce anger; I will
not again destroy Ephraim; for I am God and no mortal, the Holy One in your
midst, and I will not come in wrath.
Of
course this does not undo the destruction Israel has brought on itself. Israel
will be conquered by the Assyrians just as the prophet has said. But God will
create a way home. God will restore and heal and reconcile.
But
the image Hosea uses for God’s compassion and reconciliation is surprising. It
is no kindly grandparent who pats Israel on the head and says, “Now, now,
everything’s okay.” Rather it is a lion whose powerful roar brings Israel back,
trembling as they come.
Real reconciliation with God takes more
than a forgetting by God. It takes a turning by Israel, or by us. It requires a
turning toward God and God’s ways. I requires a turning from trusting ourselves
over God. And in the prophet’s picture of this turning, something must happen
to shake Israel, a roar that brings them trembling home.
____________________________________________________________________________
“Were
you there when they crucified my Lord? Oh! Sometimes it causes me to tremble,
tremble, tremble.” So goes the African-American spiritual. I don’t know that I
have ever thought of Jesus on the cross as the powerful roar of a lion, but the
apostle Paul does speak of the crucified Christ as the power of God. And so
perhaps it’s not so much of a stretch to speak of it as a roar, as the powerful
act of a God who will not come in wrath, and who is determined to call us back.
I’ve
long thought that Christian understandings of the cross and atonement where God
has to punish sin, and only Jesus can pay the price for everyone else, were
overly mechanical and formulaic, depicting God as unable to forgive without
following certain required steps. Are God’s hands really so tied?
But
forgiving and reconciling are two very different things. And the cross vividly
depicts both how deeply we humans grieve God’s heart, as well as the length God
will go to shake us out of our waywardness and call us back. The cross is not
simply about forgiveness. It is about new relationship. It is about the costly
work of reconciling, of reaching out to us, even when we have created the
breach in the relationship. It is a remarkable act of compassion and commitment
to us. And when we truly realize what God does for our sakes, it leaves us
trembling.
But
more than just tremble, we return. We return to discover who we truly are and
what we are truly meant to be. We come and find that we are home, that all the
longings and cravings that drive our hectic, stressed out, anxious lives have
been lifted, replaced with true peace and fulfillment, peace and fulfillment
that the world cannot give.
And
as we come trembling home, a prodigal God greets us and welcomes us to the
feast. The risen Christ stands as host, waiting to serve us, to feed and
nourish us with the grace that transforms and equips us to live as the true
children of God all of us are meant to be.
Thanks
be to God!
[1] Anna Case-Winters in Bartlett, David L.; Barbara Brown
Taylor (2011-06-10). Feasting on the Word: Year C, Volume 3, Pentecost and
Season after Pentecost (Propers 3-16) (Kindle Locations 10693-10694).
Westminster John Knox Press. Kindle Edition.
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