Hosea 11:1-11 When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son. 2 The more they were called, the more they went away; they kept sacrificing to the Baals and burning offerings to idols. 3 Yet it was I who taught Ephraim to walk; I took them up by their arms, but they did not know that I healed them. 4 I led them with cords of kindness, with the bands of love, and I became to them as one who eases the yoke on their jaws, and I bent down to them and fed them.
5 They shall not return to the land of Egypt, but Assyria shall be their king, because they have refused to return to me. 6 The sword shall rage against their cities, consume the bars of their gates, and devour them because of their own counsels. 7 My people are bent on turning away from me, and though they call out to the Most High, he shall not raise them up at all.
8 How can I give you up, O Ephraim? How can I hand you over, O Israel? How can I make you like Admah? How can I treat you like Zeboiim? My heart recoils within me; my compassion grows warm and tender. 9 I will not execute my burning anger; I will not again destroy Ephraim; for I am God and not a man, the Holy One in your midst, and I will not come in wrath.
10 They shall go after the LORD; he will roar like a lion; when he roars, his children shall come trembling from the west; 11 they shall come trembling like birds from Egypt, and like doves from the land of Assyria, and I will return them to their homes, declares the LORD.
INTRODUCTION
Can you think of a time when two good convictions did battle in your mind? For instance, as a parent I never want my children to suffer. That’s a strong conviction of mine. I’d take their every pain, sickness, and heartache if I could. That means that I often take things upon myself to shield them from difficulty. At the same time, I want my children to honor God and walk in holiness. And that means that I need to discipline them when their hearts go astray. Discipline, of course, is always (temporarily at least) unpleasant. As you can imagine, then, as a parent of five kids, I regularly find these two good convictions competing with one another.
Similarly, perhaps you are convinced, like me, that it is often good to overlook the offense of a friend (Proverbs 19:11); that it is often wise to let something hurtful go. At the same time, you may also be convinced of the fact that helping a friend to see their sin is an act of love (Proverbs 27:6). If you share these biblical convictions, you have likely felt the kind of tension I’m talking about.
Our passage for this morning is a remarkable expression of divine tension. God is perfectly holy and just, and resolute and, therefore, will not tolerate Israel’s unrepentant sin and rebellion. At the same time, he is a God of love, compassion, and tenderness and, therefore, takes no pleasure in the death of his people—wicked as they may be (Ezekiel 33:11). Throughout the bible we see these two aspects of God’s being pushing and pulling one another. Hosea presents one of the more remarkable pictures of this tension. And 11:1-11 is one the most remarkable passages where we see the tenderness of God win out. There is no other passage where the tenderness of God is so clearly seen in His lament over Israel’s unfaithfulness and His resolution to rescue her nonetheless. Let’s pray that we’d know the tenderness of God as we walk in faith, not (as was the case for Israel) as we await judgment.
GOD’S TENDER LOVE IN ISRAEL’S YOUTH
In a somewhat unusual way (for Hosea), this passage is more than likely one complete thought and the structure of the passage is fairly clear. In it we see (1) God’s tender love for Israel in her youth, (2) Israel’s rejection of God’s tender love, (3) God’s tender love in Israel’s rebellion, and (4) the promise of God’s future, eternal tenderness toward Israel. In vs. 1-4 we see the first section—God’s tender love in Israel’s youth. That story begins back in Exodus 4—just prior to the exodus.
In Exodus 4:22-23 God said through Moses, “Then you shall say to Pharaoh, ‘Thus says the LORD, Israel is my firstborn son,’ 23 and I say to you, ‘Let my son go that he may serve me. If you refuse to let him go, behold, I will kill your firstborn son.'”
That was the first time God presented himself as Israel’s Father (and Israel as His son). In Exodus 4 Israel was pictured as a dependent child under the care and protection of her strong and loving Father.
In our passage for this morning, Hosea drew Israel’s attention back to that time—”Out of Egypt I called my son” (v.1). It was a time when Israel was “a child” (v.1) and God taught her “to walk” (v.3). It was a time when God lovingly and gently picked Israel up when she fell and tended to her wounds (3). Hosea reminded Israel that in her youth as a nation, God led her in kindness and love, and He kept her burdens light and her needs met (4). And yet Israel, apparently, had no idea that it was God who was doing these things for her (“but they did not know that I healed them”).
I remember a time at our local fair when I tried to climb a spinning rope ladder in order to win a prize. I made it to the top and was so proud. Only later did I find out that my dad was holding onto the ladder in order to keep it from spinning. He was the only reason I made it to the top even though I didn’t know it. I ignorantly took the credit that belonged to him.
That’s how things went for Israel in her youth. God cared for her in remarkable ways that she entirely missed, and Hosea was drawing Israel’s attention to that fact in this passage.
It gets worse, though. Because Israel did not know that it was God who cared for her and blessed her, “the more they were called, the more they went away” (2). Not only did Israel miss the blessings of God, she ran from them.
The picture here is one of a child unknowingly wandering toward a busy street. Upon being frightened by his dad’s yell of warning, the child runs away from the yell and closer to harm’s way.
Because Israel hadn’t learned to recognize and trust the voice and tenderness of her Father, she often drew back from God, and closer to danger, instead of toward Him, and closer to safety.
How often is this the case for you and me? How often is the blessing of God in front of us but we miss it? How often do we run from God’s blessings because they seem scary to us?
Grace, consider the tenderness of God in this passage. Once again He is pictured as patiently teaching Israel to walk, taking her up by her arms when she gets hurt, and bending down to feed her. Even though Hosea says she didn’t know it, and often ran from it, God’s tenderness toward Israel in her “childhood” was genuinely amazing. And God offers that same tender affection and care to you and I and we trust in him. Trust in him, therefore and know the comfort and peace and blessing that you were made for and so long for.
ISRAEL’S REBELLION AGAINST GOD’S TENDER LOVE
As tragic as it was that Israel missed the tender blessing of God and ran from them, it gets worse still. The worst part of all of this is that Israel ran from the voice of God, not to a solitary place, but into the arms of those who would do only harm. In v.2 we read, ” The more they were called, the more they went away; they kept sacrificing to the Baals and burning offerings to idols.” The more they were called, the more they went away; and the more they went away, the more they looked to other men and gods for the things God offered and alone could give.
Numbers 14 recounts the time in Israel’s youth (many years before Hosea’s prophecy) between God’s rescuing her from Egypt and her taking possession of the Promised Land. The Israelites were wandering in the wilderness on the edge of the Land that God had commanded them to take, but spies had just come back with a report of a fertile land inhabited by mighty men. The Israelites were frightened by this report and began to grumble.
In Numbers 14:3-4 we read, “Why is the LORD bringing us into this land, to fall by the sword? Our wives and our little ones will become a prey. Would it not be better for us to go back to Egypt?” 4 And they said to one another, ‘Let us choose a leader and go back to Egypt.'”
Again, in spite of God’s tender faithfulness to Israel, and in spite of God’s promise to deliver the Promised land into her hands, the more God called her to trust, the more she went away; the more God described the blessings of obedience, the more she longed for a different path; the more God described the sweetness of Caanan’s bounty, the more Israel longed for the familiarity of Egypt’s oppression.
The same thing was happening in Hosea’s day. God called Israel to hope in Him and therein find fullness and blessing and freedom. However, Israel continued to long for another way. In a sense, Israel was still clamoring for a return to slavery in Egypt instead of receiving the tender affection, protection, and blessing of God.
In the Numbers passage God refused to let Israel return to Egypt, protecting Israel from herself. He eventually delivered her into the Promised Land. But things had changed by the time of Hosea’s prophecy. God’s jealous love had been kindled white hot. He was about to grant to the Israelites what she wanted but would soon regret. God was about to (temporarily) stop protecting Israel from herself.
It would not be to Egypt, however, that Israel would go. Instead, God would give them new masters, the Assyrians. They shall not return to the land of Egypt, but Assyria shall be their king, because they have refused to return to me. 6 The sword shall rage against their cities, consume the bars of their gates, and devour them because of their own counsels. 7 My people are bent on turning away from me, and though they call out to the Most High, he shall not raise them up at all” (5-7).
What God denied to the fathers of Hosea’s hearers, he gave to them. Because they would not return to God, because they listened to their own wisdom instead of God’s, because they were bent on turning away from God, God would give them over to their desires. When they fell, He would not (immediately) pick them up. When they called, He would not hear. God would allow Israel to walk the path of her choosing and find that it led in exactly the opposite direction of everything she truly wanted.
God’s tenderness didn’t leave God when Israel sinned against him, but their ability to experience it did. Instead of God’s freedom she would get Assyria’s bondage. Instead of God’s peace, she would get Assyria’s chaos. Instead of God’s healing, she would get Assyria’s wounds. Instead of God’s milk and honey, she would get Assyria’s measly scraps. Instead of God’s kindness, she would get Assyria’s disdain. Instead of God’s love she would get Assyria’s scorn. And instead of God’s tenderness, she would get Assyria’s harshness.
How often do we forsake God’s calling for what appears to be an easier path? How often do we desperately want things, only to be quickly disappointed once we get them? How often do we look to things other than God to provide the things only found in God?
Grace, the fact that Israel’s sin and rebellion was not obvious to her, ought to make us pause in humility as we evaluate our own perspectives and lives. You and I can look at this recounting of Israel’s rebellion and rejection of God’s grace and see how utterly foolish it was. But the fact that Israel couldn’t ought to make us think: what are we missing that should be obvious as we relate to God? Make it easy for your friends and spouse and leaders to talk to you about your sin. Regularly ask for other godly people to help you see what you might be missing. And if it seems as if God’s tenderness has dried up in your life, consider whether or not you are looking for it in places that it is never found.
GOD’S TENDER LOVE IN ISRAEL’S REBELLION
In her youth God tenderly blessed Israel. In spite of God’s tenderness and blessing, however, Israel turned away from God. Eventually, God allowed Israel to go her own way. We might think that this meant the end of God’s tenderness and blessing. Hosea sure sounded like utter destruction was about to befall Israel. But was that really the case?
Let me ask you: What do you do when you treat someone with gentleness and kindness only to have them misinterpret it or attribute it to someone else? What do you do when you mean nothing but good things for someone but they respond in meanness or anger? What do you do when you try to love someone and bless them over a long period of time only to have them continually reject your love and blessing?
Well, if you’re anything like me, eventually your tenderness wears out. Eventually you get tired of trying. Eventually you become hard. At least you eventually have to fight really, really hard to avoid wearing out, getting tired, or becoming hard.
God is like us in that he is tender toward his children (or rather, we are like God in that we can be tender with our kids), but he is not like us in that his tenderness never lessens, much less runs out. He is like us in his love for his children, but he is not like us in that his love never diminishes or vanishes. He is God and we are not. All of that was Hosea’s point in vs. 8-9.
8 How can I give you up, O Ephraim? How can I hand you over, O Israel? How can I make you like Admah? How can I treat you like Zeboiim? My heart recoils within me; my compassion grows warm and tender. 9 I will not execute my burning anger; I will not again destroy Ephraim; for I am God and not a man, the Holy One in your midst, and I will not come in wrath.
What an amazing passage. More than one commentator calls this one of the most remarkable passages in the OT. For some reason, it is rare to read of the tenderness of God in such clear language. God would give Israel up to the Assyrians. He would hand them over. He would allow them to be wiped out like Admah and Zeboiim (two cities mentioned with Sodom and Gomorrah). The question for Israel, the question Hosea allows us to enter into the mind of God to see, is whether God would cause these defeats to be total and irreversible; or if there was a possibility of revival. In this passage, again in truly staggering fashion, we are brought into the inner workings of the mind and heart of God.
“How can I give you up, O Ephraim? How can I hand you over, O Israel? How can I make you like Admah? How can I treat you like Zeboiim?” I’m going to do so, said God, my jealous love and impeccable justice require it, but it grieves me because I am not only jealous and just. I am also merciful, patient, slow to anger, and tender. There is tension within me because of these two aspects of my being. Truly, “My heart recoils within me; my compassion grows warm and tender.”
Therefore, “I will not execute my burning anger; I will not again destroy Ephraim; for I am God and not a man, the Holy One in your midst, and I will not come in wrath.” In other words, God’s judgment would not be final. He would keep his promises and his side of the covenant even though Israel had not. Three different times in this one verse God declares that his judgment would not be final. “I will not execute my burning anger.” “I will not again destroy Ephraim.” “I will not come in wrath.”
There was sternness and anger in God on account of Israel’s sin. However, unlike with you and me, those things never replace or diminish God’s love and tenderness. God is always perfectly loving and tender, even when His glory demands that he respond to us in sternness and anger. This passage, more than nearly any other passage in the bible, makes that plain. In a book that is nearly completely filled with God’s rebuke and righteous indignation, we find this most remarkable description of the tenderness of God. It breaks through here because it never went away. Amazing!
Remember that, Grace. So it is for you and me. Our sin grieves God. For everyone who has not received the forgiveness of God in Jesus, it will mean death if you do not turn to God. And for everyone who is hoping in Jesus, it will mean discipline. And yet, while our rebellion calls for the justice of God to prevail, His tenderness is never far. Non-Christian and Christian alike, then, turn to God. Turn to him and his tender love will follow close behind.
GOD’S TENDER LOVE IN ISRAEL’S FUTURE
Finally, that brings us back to the question of Israel’s future. If God would destroy Israel by the hands of the Assyrians, but his promise of ultimate rescue remained true, what did the future hold for Israel? How would Israel ever again be able to experience the tenderness of God? We find the answer in vs.10-11.
10 They shall go after the LORD; he will roar like a lion; when he roars, his children shall come trembling from the west; 11 they shall come trembling like birds from Egypt, and like doves from the land of Assyria, and I will return them to their homes, declares the LORD.
Grace, the promise of this passage is that Israel would one day return to God. Eventually they would go after him in faith. And when they do, the LORD will roar like a lion and his roar will summon His wayward children. His children will return humble and trembling, they will return fragile and weak, but God, in spite of all their sin and rebellion will receive them in tenderness.
We can’t help but to think of the scene after the Witch’s schemes were foiled by the deeper magic of Narnia; immediately after Aslan came back from the dead and rose to conquer his enemies once and for all.
“’And now,’ said Aslan presently, ‘to business. I feel I am going to roar. You had better put your fingers in your ears.’ And they did. And Aslan stood up and when he opened his mouth to roar his face became so terrible that they did not dare to look at it. And they saw all the trees in front of him bend before the blast of his roaring as grass bends in a meadow before the wind” (Lewis, C.S.. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (Chronicles of Narnia Book 2) (pp. 151-152). HarperCollins. Kindle Edition.).
But how could all this be? How could the tenderness of God possibly rise up again over the justice of God? How could this divine tension between His justice and mercy; between His holiness and grace; between His sternness and kindness ever end? We find a hint in this passage.
Remember back to verse 1, “Out of Egypt I called my son.” Well another Son would come to end the tension. In Matthew 2, we read of the new-born Jesus’ family being forced to flee to Egypt to avoid the sword of Herod. Matthew notes (in 2:15) that, “This was to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet, ‘Out of Egypt I called my son.’” And here’s the key: this second Son who was called out of Egypt would die on a cross and show himself to be the Lion of Israel and Judah. Paul tells us in Romans 3 that it was His roar that would abolish once and for all the tension between the different aspects of God’s nature. By dying in our place Jesus forever unleashed the tenderness of God to all who would hope in Him.
On the cross Jesus took all the wrath and anger and harshness of God for all who would hope in him, leaving only love and mercy and grace and tenderness.
The blessings of God are never far off, Grace. His tenderness is always near. Turn from your sin, look to Jesus, and know the humbling, summoning, rescuing, healing, victorious glory of the Lion’s roar.