Hosea - Part IV - Hewn by the Prophets

We are saved by faith and not by works of the law; Paul tells us so repeatedly and emphatically. Christians sometimes believe that this is an insight particular to them. Jesus repeatedly bypassed the “law” in favor of acts of love and healing. He put love ahead of rules, people over procedure. Virtue comes from God. Rules and regulations must give way.

Old Testament writers, however, frequently point to God’s relentless care of his people. No matter how far they stray, God cannot abandon them. No matter how fleeting is their faith, God will reform them endlessly to his own purpose. All they need to do is know him, remember him.

Your love is like a morning cloud,
like the dew that goes away early.
Therefore I have hewn them by the prophets
I have killed them by the words of my mouth,
and my judgment goes forth as the light.
For I desire steadfast love and not sacrifice
the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings. 6:4-6

The dictionary tells us that to “hew” is “to make or shape” but, most interestingly, “to remove a large piece of.” This is what a prophet will do: a prophet will call a spade a spade; a prophet will provoke; a prophet will admonish; a prophet will be used by God to remake God’s people. Prophets unsettle our systems and plague our minds.

We don’t want this. We don’t want large pieces removed from us. We are comfortable as we are, or so we think.

There is a saying: Hate the sin but love the sinner. Our priest pointed out in a recent homily that we tend to love our sins and then hate ourselves for them. Israel loved its sin; it was attached to it. It was so far gone that it identified with its own defilement. Israel was tangled in a web of sin, a morass of wrong-headedness. They were bogged down; their systems imprisoned them in despair.

You have plowed wickedness,
you have reaped injustice,
you have eaten the fruit of lies. 10:13

God would force them into exile. Their wealth would disappear. Their hubris would dissolve. Their hearts would break.

I am the Lord your God
from the land of Egypt:
I will make you live in tents again
as in the days of the appointed festival. 12:9

and

Because you have trusted in your power
and in the multitudes of your warriors,
therefore the tumult of war shall rise against your people
and all your fortresses shall be destroyed. 10:14

As angry as God sounds in these passages, his words don’t feel angry to me. Certainly, from my place and time of safety, 2700 years later, I can see beyond the wrathful words and hear the love and care in them. God brought prophets to his people. He brought woe and hardship and destruction. Why? For salvation. For the kingdom.

In the later chapters of Hosea, God remembers his love for his people.

Yet it was I who taught Ephraim to walk,
I took them up in my arms;
but they did not know that I healed them.
I led them with cords of human kindness,
with bands of love.
I was to them like those
who lift infants to their cheeks.
I bent down and fed them. 11:3-4

There is so much pain in these stories of love. The people turn from God and are miserable and weary. God mourns for the loss of the true hearts he fashioned. The people are forced to remember God’s mercy, they are hewn by the prophets, reconciled to their Father.

Does this sound like freedom? Most of us don’t relish the idea of being hewn. We want to make our own decisions, correct our own faults in our own time and way. We aren’t primitive folk like the ancient Israelites.  God’s corrective actions might seem restraining as read in Hosea. Fine for them, but wrong for us. 

The thing about lectio divina is that every word in every text is meant to be taken to heart. Every verse is as if it were written expressly for me, for you. So I can’t dismiss anything. I can’t claim a 21^st Century view point. A point of view is meaningless here. When you are reading Scripture, especially when you are praying it, you are in eternity. Time vanishes. You may as well be some sinner in the northern kingdom destined for Babylon. This is what I learned: I am every one of those people. And God taught me to walk.