Love that Never Gives Up

“When Israel was a child, I loved him,” says God. Ask most parents, about their children during their first years, and they will tell you a story with a smile. There may be sighs of “I don’t know how we made it through the colic, the sleepless nights, the endless demands,” but given enough distance, they will smile as they remember that little body curled up against them utterly dependent and completely relaxed, as they remember first steps and learning to say “no.”

It is then that the real problems start. Out of Egypt I called my child, Israel, but the more they were called the more they went away from me. Nothing panics a parent more than when their toddler gets away and begins running toward danger. They turned to Ba’als, the fertility and nature Gods of the Canaanites. As they moved out of the wilderness of the desert, into the promised land of Canaan, they assimilated. These were the teenage years; they were influenced by the culture around them and turned away from God, their loving Parent. They seemed to forget that it was God who had taught them to walk, holding their hands as they took those first steps, and they had forgotten it was God who had bandaged their knee when they fell, kissed it and made it better.

“They are going to wind up back in Egypt,” God laments. Like so many parents who struggle as their child falls in with the wrong crowd, gets mixed up in self-destructive behaviors, God is wondering where it all went wrong. He no longer listens. She has no respect. And the choices they have made have left them slaves to the destructive ways they have chosen. God sees the path of destruction in front of them, sees the choices that they are making, knows where they will wind up. Assyria will invade and cities will turn into battlefields. “I will by no means exalt them,” declares God.

I think this may be the most important word for us to hear in this passage. “What do I do?” parents ask, “What does it even look like for me to love my child now?” I was exhausted as I sang “Hush Little Baby” and walked around and around the house bouncing this child all night long, but it was not anywhere near as hard as wondering where they are all night now and whether or not they are safe.

God considers kicking us out.

I get asked fairly regularly if I think we are in the end times. I really don’t know. Jesus said he didn’t know and that no one could know except for God, so I feel ok about not knowing. We definitely seem to be in the teenage years of rebellion and all its consequences, though. God, the Divine Parent, will not show off pictures of us acting up and rebelling. “I will be no means exalt them.” I will not dignify what they are doing. I will not glorify their behavior. I will not praise it. I will not set them on a pedestal and keep them from experiencing the consequences.

When we put ourselves first, as individuals or as a nation, there are consequences. Jesus taught, “Whoever is least among you is greatest.” When we worship the idol of power, as individuals or as a nation, there are consequences. Jesus taught, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” When we worship the idol of wealth, as individuals or as a nation, there are consequences. Jesus taught, “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” When we judge and label one another, as individuals or as a nation, there are consequences. Jesus taught, “Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. ‘Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?’” When we allow hate to define our relationships rather than love, as individuals or as a nation, there are consequences. Jesus taught, “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven.”.”

The consequences are clear. And yet…God remembers what was, acknowledges what is, and cannot give up on what could be. God’s love just won’t give up. The prophet Hosea records 4 rhetorical questions God ponders:

1. How can I give you up? How can I stop being your Parent and no longer call you my child? How could I end our relationship?
2. How can I hand you over? How can I hand you over to bondage to the Assyrians? How can I let the destructive powers that you are choosing own you?
3 & 4. How can I destroy you like I destroyed Admah? How can I destroy you like I destroyed Zeboyim? Will I do to you what you deserve?

A rough translation of the Hebrew here, I think, gives us the best understanding of God’s struggle: “My heart churns within me; my instinct to comfort is stirred to unity.” I will not give you what you deserve. I will not act in anger, even though it is just. I will not allow you to be devastated.

Why? The answer is one that every child dreads hearing, “Because I said so.” Why will God not give up on you? Why will God not hand your over to the temptations that threaten to ensnare you? Why will God not just judge you like you deserve and destroy you? WHY? Because I said so. Because I am God, and I said so. I am not a human being. I am the holy one in your midst. Emmanuel, God with us, is our hope. It is the very heart of God. It is love that won’t give up.

They are going to wind up in exile; they will choose bondage. When we turn on the news, we see the consequences. We wonder how far down we will spiral as a society. We wonder how long our nation can stand divided against itself. We wonder; we worry; and yet, we rarely change.

God says, “I will keep calling. Eventually they will hear me. I’ll be roaring like a lion, and they will come from all the far-flung places they have gotten carried off to in their bondage, trembling in fear. Their room will be ready and waiting for them. And I will welcome them home.