Out of Egypt - Hosea 11

The main point: The chapter from Hosea shows God describing his love, the way his people reject his love, the consequences of that rejection, and the promise of restoration from a God whose mercy is everlasting. Matthew quotes this passage in the story of Jesus’ birth to reference this love, sin and forgiveness, and to show how deeply connected Jesus is to the story of Israel.

 

The book of the prophet Hosea is a story of God’s faithful love for his people, and his people’s unfaithful response to that love. This relationship is dramatized in the life of Hosea as God instructs his prophet to marry a woman who becomes unfaithful to him. But even in that infidelity, Hosea still pursues his wife and tries to woo her back. So does God woo back his unfaithful bride, Israel. But this does not minimize the offence nor the consequences of the infidelity. It shows instead the impossible miracle of God’s mercy and unsurpassed love, that though his people would be sent into exile because of their sin, yet those who return to him will be redeemed.

 

Hosea 11 is a chapter that contains this entire cycle of God’s love, Israel’s sin, exile and punishment, and promised forgiveness and return. Instead of the bride imagery, though, Israel is described here as a child, a son, whom the Lord has loved and raised. The first verse describes what God has done for his child because of love, bringing his people out of Egypt in the Exodus, delivering Israel from slavery into the Promised Land. This is the iconic moment of God’s salvation for Israel, the event that Israel brings to mind whenever it wants to describe what God is like: God is the One who delivers, the One who saves, the One who set us free.

 

In the later verses of this chapter we see more descriptions of God acting as a Father: he taught Ephraim (one of the tribes, another representative name for God’s people) to walk, took them up in his arms, healed them, led them with kindness and love, eased their pain and fed them. But God’s children did not repay his kindness with love. Instead, the more they were called, the more they went away, worshipping other gods, sacrificing to idols, not even recognizing the God who healed them. The firstborn child of God, the son he called out of Egypt, turned his back on his Father and refused to return.

 

There are consequences to this rebellion. God’s protection is removed from his people, and they are not even allowed to return to the relative safety of Egypt. Assyria, instead, will conquer them and rule over them. They will be killed in war, and their cities will be destroyed. They will be sent into exile, away from the Promised Land. And worst of all, when they cry out to God for help, he will not hear them or help them. At the end of verse 7, it seems that because the children of God have abandoned him, they too will be abandoned.

 

These are the consequences of rebellion, of sin. Outside the loving protection of God, we are doomed. God’s merciful Father-love has been poured out for all people, his deliverance is available, his daily presence and assistance is promised. But we most often reject this love and worship ourselves or the things around us that make us most comfortable. This rejection, rebellion, pride, and sin all bring about the burning anger of God.

 

If the message of Hosea ended in verse 7, Israel would have been in a hopeless situation, as would we if the message of Scripture ended with our sin. But it does not end there. Verses 8-11 shift the mood entirely. In these verses God wonders aloud, and in seemingly great emotional distress, how he could ever let his children go. He cannot do it, he cannot let them go, his heart recoils within him and his compassion grows towards them. This is not fluffy stuff either. God’s anger still burns towards them, their sin and deceit still infuriates him, and there is still talk of terrible judgment in chapters 12 and 13 of Hosea. But in chapter 11, the Lord chooses not to act on his anger, so he does not destroy them. He continues to have patience, to show mercy, to call his children again, this time with the roar of a lion. And his children, chastened, will come home from exile.

 

Hosea does not actually seem to be prophesying anything in 11:1 when he talks about God bringing his son out of Egypt. He is merely relating historical facts that proved God’s love for his child, Israel when he brought them out of Egypt and took them to the Promised Land. This he is able to do again, to bring them out of exile and bondage when they return to him. But this verse does not seem to be pointing towards Jesus in any obvious way.

 

Why then does Matthew announce that a prophecy had been fulfilled by Jesus and family fleeing to Egypt, and then returning later once Herod was dead? It is perhaps not the verse so much that is in question, as the fact that Jesus was living out the life and story of Israel. Moses was saved from the slaughter of male children at the hands of the Pharaoh. Jesus was saved from the slaughter of male children at the hands of Herod. God called his people out of Egypt into the Promised Land. God called his Son, Jesus, out of Egypt and back into the land of Promise. But Jesus did not live out one significant aspect of Israel’s story. Hosea 11 describes how God’s child, Israel, rejected its Father. Jesus did not reject his Father, did not enter rebellion, did not sin. In Matthew’s Gospel Jesus relives the story of Israel, but he does so from the position of a faithful Son, one who does not incur the burning anger of his Father. The quoting of Hosea 11:1 highlights this to the reader.

 

The gift of Jesus, God’s perfect child, is the gift of God’s great mercy towards his people. Jesus is the enactment of God’s offer of forgiveness to the world, the liberation from freedom to sin, the return from exile. Jesus is the continuing proof that God loves his children and has done everything necessary and possible for their salvation, because Jesus’ perfection, his righteousness, is our hope. To reject this mercy, this patience, this forgiveness, this salvation puts us in danger of being exposed to the anger of God.

Can We Know God? (Deut 4:35-39)

Most religious activity is based upon the assumption that one can know God at all. This is something we perhaps take for granted, but it is not at all a small matter. If God is knowable by his creation, it is only because He has revealed Himself to us, and at great cost. Knowing God, if it is possible, is sheer gift and grace.

 

It is one thing to know of God, but quite another thing to be on familiar terms with God. To call God “Father” is a surprisingly intimate term, and one that is actually not all that frequently used in the Hebrew Scriptures. They were far more likely to use (or avoid using) the term Yahweh. By the time of Jesus that name was probably not used out of reverence and fear, being replaced by Adonai (“The Lord”) or Ha Shem (“The Name”). These were probably the names Jesus used when he prayed the Shema and other Hebrew prayers.

 

It is important to understand that this is the God to Whom Jesus prayed, the God of the Hebrew Scriptures (which we call the Old Testament) and of the Hebrew people. There was no other God but Yahweh for Jesus. And while we do see both the Spirit and the Son referenced or foreshadowed in descriptions of the divine in the OT, there is an overriding emphasis on the unity of Yahweh as One. There is no division or multiplication of gods in the OT. And there is not yet a fuller revelation of Yahweh as Trinity such as we see in the NT. This does not mean that Yahweh becomes Trinity in the New Testament, but that Yahweh was more fully understood in that light with the coming of Jesus and the Spirit. So we have to take the description of Yahweh in the OT on its own terms.

 

At the same time we have to be careful not to imagine a break between the God of the Old and New Testaments. The revelation of Yahweh to his people Israel is the revelation that Jesus speaks about and carries on. Jesus does not reveal a new God but fulfils the revelation of the God of Abraham, Isaac, Rachel, Joseph, Ruth, Esther, Samuel, David, Isaiah, Elijah, Micah, Amos, etc...This is the God who alone is Creator (Jer 10:11-12), King (Deut 10:14-17), Judge (Ps 33:13-15) and Saviour (Ps 68:19).

 

Part of the fulfilment of this revelation was the way in which Jesus called God “Abba” or Father. This was, of course, not unknown in Israel. The term Father was used for God in the OT, and God is often described in fatherly terms. But Jesus’ emphasis on this relationship was unique and striking, and has led to the Christ-follower tradition of referring to God as “Our Father.” We must not presume to have the same relationship with the Father as Jesus does, as we are not the only begotten Son of God. But because of Jesus’ sacrifice on our behalf, the gift of his righteousness, and the pouring out of the Holy Spirit on us and in us, we have been adopted as children of God. So we can know God as Abba Father, both through Scripture and through experience and prayer.

 

It then behooves us to understand in what way we might use the name “Father”, and the Hebrew Scriptures are essential guides in this discovery. What we must not do is simply think about what we know of fatherhood and then assume that God must be like that, only bigger. That is the wrong way around. We should instead see how God reveals himself through Scripture and then see what that makes of fatherhood. For one thing, Scripture does not only use the metaphor of Father, but also describes God as Parent, and even as Mother (see Deut 32:18; Ps 27:10; Isa 42:14; Isa 49:15). “Fatherhood” is a very important concept, but it should not be used as a club to reinforce harmful patriarchies or painful associations people in our world may have of the word “Father”.

What I Know About Bats

What I Know About Bats

I have, in my life, personally caught and released three bats. Two of them lived, one of them perished.

The first time I had to catch a bat was while working overnight as a security guard / janitor in an Old Folks home in Cambridge, Ontario. I received a report that a bat had been spotted down on the Alzheimer's wing, and that I was required to go and remove it forthwith.  Now, this was a little disturbing, because some of the residents in that wing would, on occasion, barrel out of their room naked and screeching. That was, of course, extremely tragic and sad, but also gut-wrenchingly terrifying at 3am. I did not think the addition of a bat into that scenario would go very well. A co-worker and I managed to get the bat trapped into one small room, which meant that we also had to be trapped in a small room with a freaked out bat. I managed to bring the bat down with a well-aimed broom strike, scoop it into a waste basket covered by a towel, and bring it outside where it flapped happily away to turn into Dracula or Edward or something.

Calvin from "Calvin and Hobbes" once described Bats as "The Great Flying Insect of the Night".

The second time I had to catch a bat was in our new house just after we brought Ciara home from the hospital. Cherie woke up screaming, while a bat flew around our heads, clearly threatening to attack our newborn girl. So I leaped into action, while Cherie leaped under the covers. This time the bat flew into our closet, which was really horrible, because it meant I had to GO INTO THE CLOSET TO GET THE BAT. I removed every article of clothing (from the closet, not from myself - I did not hunt the bat naked), and eventually found the bat squeezed into a little corner, trying to look like a shadow. It them flew into my face and out into the room again. A well-aimed broom strike brought it down (again), and I went to release it outside. This one got caught in the towel, and did not fly out until I shook the towel with lots of feeling.

Bat guano, in large quantities, can produce a fatal chemical atmosphere for humans. I have also heard that it may be used in certain types of explosives.

The third time I caught a bat was once again in my house, in my room, late at night, with Cherie screaming. This time, a well-aimed broom strike (why mess with a classic?) killed that vampire dead. Just to be sure, I put a tiny little toothpick through its heart, and exposed it to the sun the next morning (not really).

An American scientist once atempted to create a "bat-bomb" during WW2 for use against Japan, which involved placing a tiny incendiary device on thousands of bats and releasing them over Japanese cities. The project was scrapped when the Atomic bomb was developed.

These are the things I know about bats.

The First Sign

The First Sign: John 2:1-11

The main point: The miracles recorded in John’s Gospel are more than just random supernatural events;

they are signs that point to a much deeper reality. The transformation of water into wine at the wedding in

Cana is the first of these signs, and it tells us much about the identity and purpose of Jesus.

 

The Gospel according to John is different than the other three Gospels,

which are called synoptic gospels because they are roughly parallel in

the way they tell the story of Jesus’ life. John’s Gospel was created later

than the other three, and tells the story in a different way.

It has been traditionally connected to the apostle John, the son of Zebedee, brother of James.

Whether John wrote this gospel, or relayed his message to someone

else who then composed the gospel is uncertain.

Regardless, this gospel contains a message about Jesus that is true and reliable,

and that comes out of the first hand experiences of one of his disciples.

 

This gospel was certainly written when John was very old, and contains reflections

on the life of Jesus from the perspective of one who saw him live,

witnessed him die, encountered him after his resurrection,

and then lived a long life trying to understand and live out

what all of that meant as part of the Church, the new people of God.

John structures his Gospel a number of signs and I AM statements, all of which point to the identity of Jesus.

 

The first sign is the changing of the water into wine at the wedding in Cana.

On the surface this miracle seems a little unnecessary.

It was a very awkward situation to run out of wine at your wedding, to be sure,

and it was very kind of Jesus, at the prompting of his mother, to remedy the situation.

This does reflect an actual care for the daily lives of the people around him,

but it does not seem to be what this sign is all about.

 

This is not a random, feel-good miracle. John calls it a sign,

and it is called a sign because it points to something beyond itself.

And even though later miracles seem to be doing more immediate good,

such as healing someone’s blindness, or even bringing someone back from the dead,

they are still signs for something more. None of Jesus’ miracles in the Gospel of John were only

about doing something good. They were also, and more importantly, about communicating

who he was and what he had come to do. John is not just relating that these

miracles happened; he is also giving the reader an insight into what these miracles mean, what the signs point to.

 

So what doesthis first sign point to? New Wine had long been a symbol for the Jewish people

of the coming redemption, the fulfilment of God’s promise, the time of shalom, the

coming of the Messiah. One Hebrew saying has it that “there is no rejoicing save with wine”,

and we can see in passages such as Isa 25:6; Jer 31:12-14; Hos 14:7; Joel 3:18; and Amos 9:13-14

that free-flowing wine was expected to accompany Israel’s joy at arrival of the Messiah.

 

That Jesus created this wine from the water used for ritual cleansing is also significant.

Something new was happening in Israel, something that was deeply connected to

the history and rituals of Judaism, but also something that was going to bring a whole new life.

The water that Jewish people would ceremonially wash their hands and their cups with,

the water that was meant to make people ritually clean and pure, was not truly sufficient for the task.

No amount of water could ever wash away the world’s sins; no amount of ritual cleaning

could ever make a person pure and holy. Jesus alone could do that through the shedding of his blood.

In John 6 Jesus teaches that life can only come to those who eat his flesh and drink his blood,

connecting his own blood to the new wine of the covenant.

The old water cannot bring purity and life. Nothing humans do in their own strength can bring purity and life.

Only the new wine has the power to do that. And Jesus fills up the old water containers

with wine “to the brim”, showing that he is bringing abundant life, more than enough

new wine to fulfill every person and make them clean.

The wedding party runs out of wine, just as every human effort towards salvation will exhaust itself;

but Jesus’ wine will never run out.

 

Seeing the connection between this wine at the wedding and the blood of Jesus leads us

towards the true implication of the miracle at Cana:

the turning of water into wine is a sign that ultimately points to the death of Jesus.

This could explain Jesus’ reluctance to perform this sign, knowing that it was leading

him toward the shedding of his own blood.

Jesus’ mother asks him to perform a miracle, but Jesus knows that the miracle required

is on a totally different level. Her concern, the shortage of wine, is not the same as his concern,

the redemption of humanity. And he knows that it is not yet “his time”.

In John 12:23 Jesus announces that the hour had now come for him to be glorified, that is, killed.

The sign at Cana was merely the first step on the road to that hour, and was a fitting symbol

for what Jesus would accomplish through his death.

 

Finally, John points out that the sign was not recognised by the master of the banquet,

but it was noticed by the disciples. By this sign Jesus revealed his glory, and the disciples put their faith in him. 

God’s glory was shown in the Jewish Scriptures through theophanies (visions or manifestations of God),

through nature, and through the tabernacle and the Temple.

Now God’s glory, John says, is brought into the midst of God’s people again through the person of Jesus.

Bringing glory to God the Father is Jesus’ primary desire in the Gospel of John (see John 9:3; 11:4, 40),

and Jesus reveals the glory of God throughout the narrative, in particular through the signs.

I Love Studying, and I don't think that's Weird.

I took some time today to travel over to our prayer room for some much neglected study time. Typically I set aside one day a week to dig into the Scriptures, sweep through commentaries and devotional materials, and amuse myself with ethical and sociological material such as Hauerwas' "The Peaceable Kingdom", Postman's "The Disappearance of Childhood" or Gladwell's "Outliers". I know this regimen may not seem fun or relaxing to many, but it is to me.

Sometimes little gems stick out to me for no particular reason. I was reading through some commentaries on Exodus 1 this morning, and two little things caught my attention. The first was in Ex. 1:10, which merely mentions Pharaoh's fear that Israel would multiply, or "will be added to", and they would become too numerous and strong for Egypt to continue to oppress and control. Why does this matter? Well, in verse 8 this Pharaoh is described as one who did not know of Joseph, the descendant of Abraham who brought his whole family into Egypt at the end of the Genesis narrative. That is, he did not know that originally they were guests, invited in, and that Joseph had actually saved the nation. Now the people are slaves, and Pharaoh is concerned that their number will be added to. What I did not know is that this turn of phrase - "may be added to" - is a Hebrew pun. Joseph's name means "may He add", a reference to God adding to the family of Jacob, specifically through his beloved wife Rachel who had been barren. Many of the matriarchs are described as being at various points barren, and YHWH overcomes this and grants children to them. Now, at the beginning of the Exodus, these children of formerly barren mothers have become so numerous that they threaten the powers that be. And the great power, Pharaoh, who does not know Joseph, unknowingly invokes his name and the story of God's blessing just as he is endeavouring to curse this people. Thus, in the midst of their most desperate moment, the blessing and promises of God are brought to the front by their great adversary. I think that's neat.

The other interesting nugget from this morning's study was the Hebrew word for forced labour, which was being imposed on them by the Pharaoh. This was a representation of a disordered society, of alienated work, of humiliation and slavery. It is everything that the soon-to-be created nation of Israel (described later on in Exodus) was not supposed to be. Countless times the Israelites are impressed upon to treat foreigners, widows, orphans and slaves well, because they too were those people in Egypt and were delivered by their God. In the book of Kings, however, we read that Solomon imposed the same kind of forced labour on his people, which infuriated them to such a degree that they stoned the royal official in charge of announcing the new labour programme. Taxation they could handle, but not the re-introduction of something they had been liberated from in their founding narrative.

These may be two little details, but they really make Scripture come alive for me, and give me even greater reason and desire to sit down in freezingly cold or meltingly hot little rooms to read old books. It may be strange to you, but it's fun for me!

Rule of Life

A Rule of Life is better than Resolutions, because it is founded upon submission to something bigger rather than an internal Will to change.

Here is my Rule of Life, 2023 style:

Daily

On arising: Lectio 365

Meditatio: The Jesus Prayer

Scripture: Two set chapters per day

Physical: 2-3 sets of 4 stretches

Presence: Prayers in Oppenheimer Park

Mental: 1 hour of reading, 1 hour watching film (for clarity of truth, held before the heart)

Spiritual/Physical: 2 hours prayer walking/biking, intercession

Service: 1 household chore

Development: Practice in languages, juggling, instruments

Before sleep: House Examen (Lectio 365)

Weekly

Relationship: Protected time with Cherie, each child

Sabbath: Invited meal 

Scripture: Jacob's Well Bible Study

Community: Jacob's Well meal

Service: 1 big household chore

Monthly

Convivium

Practice generosity

This Year

This year I walked 3140 kilometres. This means two hours, 8.6 km per day. I climbed 20 flights of stairs a day, 7300 in total.

This year I also biked a lot.

This year my legs were my main means of locomotion. Elsewise I traveled sparingly: the Sunshine Coast to retreat; Montreal to join in prayer; Ontario to help a church; Washington State to visit a friend; Bella Coola to mourn; the UK to teach.

This year our family took a trip to Lillooet, of which I shall not speak.

This year the devil conspired against us.

This year I lost significantly more than I won. This year I nearly lost everything.

This year our neighbourhood and our garage and the abandoned house next door burned.

This year friends used Northwest Coast Indigenous art to protect us from arson.

This year our children took some hits. I am sorry about that. More will come, because life is like that. I am sorry about that too.

This year faith and family were tested.

This year I fought some demons. This year I was bloodied.

This year I watched my father die. He died well. But still.

This year I was very, very sad.

This year I sought solace in poetry and in prayer.

This year I prayed the Jesus Prayer every day.

This year I prayed over a large chunk of Vancouver.

This year I learned some things about intercession.

This year I saw some who were dead come back to life. 

This year I believed in Sasquatches.

This year I made some new friends, renewed some old friendships, lost some friends.

This year I sat under the teaching of indigenous elders, and began integrating physical, emotional, mental and spiritual directions within myself.

This year I completed a set of steps.

This year I was blessed by my neighbours and community.

This year I went to some great shows: Jack White, Ben Caplan (x2), Nathaniel Rateliff and the Night Sweats, Sigur Ros.

This read I read deeply, watched intently and listened closely.

This year I bailed ankle-deep ice water out of my basement on Christmas Eve.

This year I recorded a song about a baboon.

This year I began writing two books that no one asked for and which may never be completed.

This year I took a break, but did not get a rest.

This year I decided to no longer serve organizations, only people.

This year some people showed great mercy to us. Others did not. I am trying to learn how to be grateful for both.

This year was the hardest.

I am glad to see the back of this year.