“WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME???”

This is where we left the Old Testament story of Hosea: the young bloke staring listlessly into space at McDonalds while his kids tear up the playground slide. His wife is absent, drunk at some party and getting with some guy or other, and he’s questioning God, who specifically match-made this relationship, “God, why are you doing this to me?!!!”

This is the question that stands squarely in front of God-fearing people: Why are you doing this to me? You put your trust in God, in good faith, and He takes you down the garden path and dumps you into the septic tank.

The standard answer that I have been offered as to why God commanded Hosea to marry a broken, rebellious wife is that Hosea was a prophet, and thus their relationship was a “parable” or a “lesson” or a “model” of the relationship between God and the nation of Israel. Hosea represents God. Gomer represents Israel. God wanted his people to know that they had fallen away from him, and it hurt him, and he wanted to restore the relationship.

Kinda sucks for Hosea, though, doesn’t it? He’s the axle the whole operation turns on: “Hey, Hosea,” God says. “Thanks for thinking I exist. And because you do, I’m going to ask you to marry a slut and write a memoir about your experience. And it will go in the Bible.” Merry Christmas. God bless us every one!

There has to be more… and I believe there is.

Follow me closely:

Gomer is obviously messed up. She has a broken heart, she has baggage, she probably has mental health issues. That’s a given.

But what about Hosea? Is he a perfect husband? Is he flawless? He may have thought, on his wedding day, that he was a regular guy. I mean, how difficult is marriage, right? You have feelings for your wife, you give her a kiss and a cuddle and do the dishes and bring home the paycheck. Job done.

Hmmm.

Hosea thought he knew how to love, but he just didn’t.

Don’t forget that Gomer represents the nation of Israel, and that Hosea is a member of the nation of Israel. The same sickness that infects Israel infected his heart. He believed in lies. He was broken, like Gomer was broken, but his brokenness was in a different place. And because of his brokenness, he was headed for oblivion and at risk of damnation. His soul needed saving. His heart needed healing.

How do I know this? It’s not obvious from Hosea, but it comes out clear in other parts of the Bible. 1 Peter 1:6-9:

For a little while, you have had to suffer various trials, in order that the genuineness of your faith, which is more precious than gold that perishes, though it is tried by fire, may be found to result in praise, glory, and honor… receiving as the result of your faith the salvation of your souls.

In this passage, “the salvation of your souls” seems like a big deal. It’s not something that God can bring about easily. It’s not a simple snap of the fingers, it’s actually a difficult job. Perhaps I’m being too simplistic here, but the upshot is that the “salvation” of a person’s soul generally implies that they must “suffer various trials.” You and I are no different. Neither was Hosea. The “trial” he had to suffer came to a climax in his marriage with Gomer.

Chapter Two

We start Chapter Two of Hosea, and he’s having a rant, to his kids:

Say to your brothers, Ammi, and to your sisters, Ruhamah,
Plead with your mother, plead—
for she is not My wife,
and am I not her husband— (2:1)

Note, first, the names he uses for his kids. In private, he does not call them Lo Ammi and Lo Ruhama. He calls them the opposite: “Mine” and “Loved.” They may not be his kids, but he has claimed them as his own.

And as I read this I have to ask myself, is Hosea triangling his young kids? Is he making them choose between him and their mother? I don’t know. I do know that kids usually know what’s going on. They live in the same house. He’s not telling them anything new. I also know that in situations like this, the biological mother-child bond is more visceral than the husband-wife “vows” bond, and that Hosea is hoping that his dear wife will listen to her kids even though she turns a deaf ear toward him.

This chapter is a little confusing, but two things are crystal clear. First, Hosea is hurt and angry because his wife is creeping on him. Second, he is NOT going to give up on her.

He is monologuing, and ranting, and we can hear that he has a plan:

“I will hedge up your way with thorns, and make a wall…”

What does this mean? I can only imagine. There’s gossip that Gomer has some new sleazy boyfriend. When Hosea finds out, he marches down to the biker bar, crashes through the door, fronts up to the guy with the tatts and tells him to beat it. “Stay away! She’s mine!”

What do you make of verse 8?

“But she did not know that it was I who provided her the grain…”

Again, I can only imagine. Gomer is not living at home. She’s found a flat in town. It’s unfurnished, except for a bed, a busted sofa and a concrete block coffee table. She gets a knock on her door and opens it. Nobody is there, just a bunch of flowers and a bottle of wine.

“Oh,” she says, clutching the flowers to her chest as she slides down the door. “He must love me.”

On another day, there’s another kock at the door, and she opens it to find a bottle of bath oil, or a box of donuts tied in a ribbon, or a purse with money in it, or a new fine cashmere scarf.

“My boyfriend loves me!” she whispers, eyes glistening…

But who is really knocking at her door? Not the biker boyfriend. It’s Hosea, the lonely fool, spending his income to buy her gifts, thinking about her at the shops, wondering what colour scarf will go best with her eyes, or what flowers she will like the most. Then he’s sneaking to her place, leaving the present, knocking and running before she knows it’s him. It’s his wife. He loves her. He’s got to look after her.

Then he finds out, through a friend of a friend, that Gomer is talking up a new story. Some rich boyfriend has given her an entire vineyard and a fig grove in payment for her ministrations. (The prick!) Hosea is jealous and angry. His eyes are bright and hard.

I will destroy her vines and her fig trees, of which she said, “These are my rewards that my lovers have given me.”

So he finds out the address. The vineyard is in a different locale, we gather, far out of town. He goes there, grinding his teeth the whole way, stomach in knots. His plan is to take an axe and a machete to the place. He’s going to smash down its walls and destroy the vines and trees.. At least, that’s the plan.

Does he do it?

I will give her vineyards to her…

Obviously, I’m using my imagination now, and I’m leaning on the idea that the boyfriend is trash and has taken as much advantage as he can…

Hosea finds the place. It’s not like the glossy brocure Hosea has been describing. The vines are pathetic. They’re unwatered and unpruned. The wall is smashed down. The vineyard is not an asset, but a liability. It’s gone to ruin. Hosea imagines Gomer’s reaction when she finds out how little the boyfriend thinks of her–the disappointment, embarrassment and shame. Is her body worth so little? And I imagine Hosea going to that first vine. It’s sickly and dry. Ants crawl up its stem. The fine has thrown out a few pathetic buds. Hosea wants to smash it apart with the back of his axe, to leave it as pulp in the dust, but he can’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he pulls out the weed that is choking the little vine, gives it a bucket of water, prunes back the dead tendrils, pulls out and rolls on. But what about the next vine? And the next one after that? Hosea, the lonely, heartbroken fool, can’t help himself. He starts fixing the place up. He goes back to the vineyard, week after week. He gets the irrigation system sorted out. He fixes the hedge to keep the foxes at bay. And in his head, he has the most stupid, ridiculous fantasy. One day… One day soon, in the future, he’ll bring her out here, and the sun will be setting low and golden on the horizon, and she’ll be smiling and swinging her arms easily, and her long hair will be loose and blowing in the breeze. She will respond to him like she did when they first met.

I will give her vineyards to her…

And the romantic love song will play over the top, and the camera will zoom up and out, and the credits will roll.

She will respond…

But how?

Next… (Part 3)