What's He Gonna Do?
Commentary
More than four decades later, I have a vivid recollection of one night that I, as a teenager, arrived home well after curfew. My dad was an early-to-bed kind of guy, and I was pulling into our driveway several hours later than his preferred bedtime. Yet he had stayed up to keep vigil in order to make sure that I got home safely. (This was, of course, well before the days of cellphones, which make it much easier for us to keep in touch with our loved ones’ whereabouts.)
I had been out on a first date with a particular girl, and while she and I were together, it felt silly to interrupt our good time with something as arbitrary as a curfew. It wouldn’t matter if I was five minutes late, I reasoned at first. And once I had given into the five minutes, it was easy and natural to extend it to ten minutes. Then fifteen. Then a half-hour. And, well, you get the idea.
So when I finally arrived home, I was inexcusably late. And my father had stayed up. And so, when I pulled in the driveway and saw evidence through the window that he was waiting for me, I was very nervous as I walked through the door. What was he going to say? What was his attitude toward me going to be?
If you’ve ever been guilty of anything, you know the feeling. Failing a test at school. Dropping a ball during the game. Being late with an assignment at work. Not to mention many, many worse things that you or I may have done along the way. When we are guilty of some failure or offense, we wait with some trepidation to see how the offended or disappointed party will respond to us.
We see this dynamic played out again and again in scripture. At the very beginning, in the Garden of Eden, we observe the guilty and ashamed Adam and Eve running to hide for fear of an encounter with the Lord. And, ironically, the third steward in Matthew 25 miscalculates his responsibility because of his apprehension about his master’s attitude and demeanor.
The scripture readings assigned to us this week invite us to see our Master’s attitude and demeanor toward us. There is no doubt of our guilt. The question is what is he going to do about it? What is he going to say? When we pull into the driveway inexcusably late; when we fail so miserably on the test; when he finds us hiding among the trees — what will the Lord God do and say to you and me?
Hosea 1:2-10, 22-31, Psalm 8
Except for some well-known stories from Daniel, a couple of spirituals inspired by Ezekiel, and familiar, seasonal passages read at Christmas, Palm Sunday, and Good Friday from Micah, Isaiah, and Zechariah, the Old Testament prophets are unfamiliar territory for most of the people in our pews. The prophetic books represent about a fourth of the chapters of the Old Testament, yet most folks find them inaccessible. They are not as immediately comprehensible as, say, Job, Psalms, or Proverbs. They are not as easy to follow and understand as the narratives of the Old Testament history books. Instead, they assume historical and geographical background information that the average reader doesn’t have. And, in addition to those factors, the prophets also feature a challenging array of genres.
Given all of that, our Old Testament lection will likely be foreign territory for many of our congregants. Yet the Hosea selection will serve not only to carry its own beauty and meaning but will also offer a chance to give a broader understanding of the prophets in general. Specifically, the passage reveals principles about both the prophet’s calling and the prophet’s message.
The first thing we learn about Hosea when we begin to read the book that bears his name is the strange assignment he receives from God. Put bluntly, the Lord directs his prophet to marry an adulterous woman: a woman who will be sexually unfaithful to Hosea. It seems like a completely counterintuitive instruction from God. Yet there is divine purpose behind the unlikely commission: “for the land commits flagrant infidelity.”
The point is not at all that Gomer’s behavior is being endorsed by God. Rather, the point is that God’s experience is being shared by Hosea. It is because God’s covenant partner is chronically unfaithful to him that His representative should experience a marriage to a woman who will be unfaithful to him.
The prophet, you see, is the Lord’s middleman. He stands between God and God’s people. And, as such, he shares the experience of both.
When we watch Jeremiah living through the Babylonian onslaught and destruction of Jerusalem, we see that the prophet shares the experience of God’s people. And when we watch Hosea bearing the pain of infidelity, we see that the prophet shares the experience of God himself.
Meanwhile, the assigned selection from Hosea has two parts — natural companions, which introduce and then resolve a theme. In the first section, there is the word of judgment that is poignantly captured by the names of Hosea’s children. But then, in the second section, those judgment statements are reversed. The sin is replaced by forgiveness, the judgment is replaced by restoration, and the brokenness is replaced by reconciliation.
This, too, offers broader insight into the prophets in general, for what we see in this small sample from Hosea is typical of a larger pattern. The majority of the canonical prophets are labeled “judgment prophets.” Yet “judgment,” in the foreboding sense of the term, is not the only message that those so-called judgment prophets bring. On the contrary, there is almost always an accompanying word that offers the hope and promise of restoration. Judgment is never the last word with God. After all, the most cataclysmic judgment to-date, the flood, had deliverance and a fresh start built into it. And the final judgment anticipated at the end of the age gives birth to the inauguration of the new heaven, new earth, and new Jerusalem.
Finally, even more important than what we learn about Hosea in particular or the prophets in general is what we learn in Hosea 1 about the Lord himself. We learn that he sees himself as in an intimate relationship with his people. He is not detached from them, indifferent to them, and unaffected by what they do. And yet, for all of their presumptuous and galling infidelity, his love and ultimate good purpose for them remain and prevail.
Colossians 2:6-15 (16-19)
As usual, the Apostle Paul provides us with a very dense passage. This is not the sort of lection that is simply read aloud and immediately understood and internalized by a congregation. This will require some deliberate study.
In our preaching, it might be most natural to take a thematic approach. That is to say, we might simply deal with the elements of this epistolary message that suit whatever larger theme we might be preaching. We find here soteriology, Christology, and instruction for Christian living. It might be most efficient and effective for our preaching, therefore, simply to highlight whichever of those matters is most pertinent to the sermonic theme.
For our purposes here, however, I think it might be a profitable exercise to rewrite our selected passage chronologically. That is to say, all of the major thematic elements that Paul presents are framed in terms of time, and so we might see and understand those themes more clearly if we uncovered the implicit timeline. I believe such a treatment, while perhaps not suitable for a sermon, will be helpful to the preacher who endeavors to preach this passage.
And so, if we were going to attempt to rewrite Paul’s points in chronological order, we would begin with the person of Christ and move then to the work of Christ. As to his person, we see in verses 9 and 10 that “in him all the fullness of deity dwells in bodily form” and that, “he is the head over every ruler and authority.” His work, meanwhile, is captured in verses 14-15: He “canceled the certificate of debt consisting of decrees against us,” and he “]disarmed the rulers and authorities, he made a public display of them, having triumphed over them through him.”
We come next, then, to the Colossians’ condition, prior to their salvation: “dead in your wrongdoings and the uncircumcision of your flesh” (verse 13). Then they “were instructed” (verse 7) and they “received Christ Jesus the Lord” (verse 6). That, in turn, resulted in a complete change of status and relationship. They have been “firmly rooted” (verse 7), “made complete” (verse 10), “circumcised with a circumcision performed without hands” (verse 11), “buried with him” and “raised with him” (verse 12), and “made...alive together with him” (verse 13). They have been “forgiven all (their) wrongdoings” (verse 13) and are “now being built up in him and established in (their) faith” (verse 7).
With that history, experience, and context in mind, then, Paul’s exhortation is that the Colossians should “walk in him...overflowing with gratitude” (verses 6, 7) And, furthermore, they are weaned to make sure that “no one who takes (them) captive through philosophy and empty deception in accordance with human tradition, in accordance with the elementary principles of the world” (verse 8).
I believe such a chronological retelling of the truths that Paul expresses here helps to clarify them. The passage — and the gospel message it contains — is perhaps more easily understood when treated sequentially rather than thematically. And that clear understanding, then, can be conveyed to our people as we preach Paul’s words to the Colossians.
Luke 11:1-13
If the lectionary would permit me to take my time with this passage, I would preach more than just one sermon from it. Indeed, how many pulpiteers through the years have turned just The Lord’s Prayer itself into an entire series of sermons! But even if I were to restrain myself on that score, I would be inclined to preach four separate sermons from our gospel lection. Perhaps it would be a four-part series, titled, “How to Pray.”
First, there is the marvelous request from the disciples, which deserves its own sermon, titled, “The Request.” Almost everything that you and I and the people in our pews know how to do we learned either by observation, by instruction, or by practice. And, in most cases, we learned by some combination of those three. Given that fact of how we learn how to do things, it is worth considering how we have learned how to pray. What examples have we had? What instruction have we received? And how much do we practice?
In the case of the disciples, they were asking for instruction. And they were asking for instruction from the best possible teacher! It is worth reflecting on the times in our lives when we have asked someone else to teach us how to do something. And, at the beginning of this series, I would encourage my church family to follow the disciples in asking Jesus to teach us how to pray.
As we noted above, the disciples asked for instruction from the best possible teacher. And we are immensely fortunate to have a record of the instruction that he gave to them. The second sermon in the series, therefore, would be titled, “The Answer.” In this sermon, I would simply endeavor to invite people to use The Lord’s Prayer as a standard against which to evaluate their own praying. Specifically, after the profound salutation of the prayer (which is its own gospel message!), Jesus recommends a handful of petitions. It is interesting that The Lord’s Prayer does not include any confession or thanksgiving sections, for those of course are necessarily personal. Instead, Jesus is simply giving us a model of what our petitions should be — what we should be asking for in prayer. And my encouragement would be for each individual to juxtapose what he or she customarily asks for in prayer with what Jesus teaches us to ask for in prayer.
The third sermon in the series would be titled, “The Style.” Having told us the ideal content of our praying, Jesus goes on to teach us about the ideal style of our praying. To make his point, he tells a story. And it is, we blush to confess, the story of a man whom most of us would regard as obnoxious if he lived next door to us. Yet he is Jesus’ role model for prayer. And so, we are encouraged and challenged by the one through whom we pray to pray with unapologetic and unflagging persistence.
Finally, the fourth sermon in the series would be titled, “The Relationship.” Even private prayer, you see, is not a solitary act. By its very nature, prayer is relational. And Jesus is reminding us of the heart and will of the one with whom we are in prayerful relationship. So having taught us what to ask and how to ask, he shows us now the nature of the one whom we ask. While we may need to have the boldness and persistence of the knocking neighbor, we mustn’t assume that God plays the part of the one who is asleep and refuses to get up. No, but rather we make our requests of a loving Father whose impulse and eagerness is to give us all that we need.
The lectionary does not give me all the time that I might want to preach this passage. But I share with you what I might do with it in the hope that some part of my treatment might prove beneficial to you in what you prepare and preach this Sunday.
Application
In 1973, noted psychiatrist Karl Menninger published a book titledWhatever Became of Sin? In it, Menninger observed and lamented the way that the culture was trying to eradicate the concept of sin as a legitimate diagnosis of the human condition. And, in the half-century since then, the trend that Menninger detected has only become more expansive and more entrenched. In 2022, the culture’s version of saving a person from sin is to dismiss the idea of sin. All balls are fair, after all, if you just erase all the foul lines!
The Bible wants us to be saved from sin, too, but it explores a more honest way. Rather than pretending we are well, scripture reveals the cure for our sickness. And so, the passages we read in both the Old and New Testaments this week do not shy away from acknowledging candidly our sinful plight.
The people of Hosea’s audience, for example, were compared to an adulterous wife. And, in response to their infidelity, they were introduced to the tragic consequences of their sinfulness. They were warned about being cut off from their privileged relationship with the Lord and losing in the process all of the blessings and benefits of belonging to him.
The people of Paul’s audience eight centuries later, meanwhile, were happily in a different condition than Hosea’s people. The Colossians’ sinfulness and rebellion was a rear-view-mirror phenomenon, and so the apostle was able to address it in the past tense and focus on better news. But his “dead in your wrongdoings” characterization was Paul’s pull-no-punches diagnosis of their former condition.
In the face of such human guilt, then, what is the response of the holy God?
The prophet proclaims in poetic terms the mercy of God toward his unfaithful people, and the promises of restoration and redemption. The apostle writes in more theological terms, but the good news is the same: God himself has initiated our salvation, and that at his own expense. And lest we wonder how such undeserved favor is plausible, Jesus reminds us of the fundamental nature of our relationship to God: “your heavenly Father.”
Human fathers are always imperfect — some more than others. I am happy to say, though, that how my human father raised and treated me makes it very easy for me to understand God as Father. He did not minimize my egregious breaking of curfew that night, but neither did he allow it to break our relationship, nor did he let my guilt call into question his love.
A part of the great, good news that you and I are privileged to preach is that my proposed title for this week is the wrong question. We sinners are not like the nervous, guilty child who wonders, “What’s he gonna do?” Rather, we are in the marvelous position of people on this side of the incarnation, the crucifixion, and the resurrection, and so we proclaim and affirm what he already did!
Alternative Application(s)
Hosea 1:2-10, 22-31 — “Prior to Use”
Almost anything I undertake to do at home that comes with instructions makes me wait to begin. Before I assemble the bookcase or bicycle, I am instructed to lay out and take inventory of all the parts first. Before I bake the pizza, I am told to preheat the oven. Before I paint the door or wall, I understand that I must do some things to prepare the surface.
So many things that we endeavor to do feature at least some preliminary steps. We can’t just jump right in and start the thing, for some preparation is required first. And perhaps that is true in the Lord’s relationship to us, as well.
At the beginning of our Old Testament lection, we are introduced to the prophet Hosea with these words: “When the Lord first spoke through Hosea, the Lord said to Hosea, ‘Go, take for yourself a wife inclined to infidelity...’” That’s a fascinating sentence. Consider the order of events.
We know that the Lord spoke through the prophet Hosea. Most of the 14 chapters that comprise his book, after all, are filled with the messages that the Lord spoke through Hosea. Yet the first thing the Lord said to Hosea was not something for Hosea to turn around and say to the people. Rather, the first thing the Lord said to Hosea was an instruction about what Hosea was to do.
In short, the first task for the prophet was not a “say” but a “do.” And the Lord’s first order of business for Hosea was not public but private. Just as I must prepare the surface before I can paint the wall, evidently the Lord must prepare the prophet before he can employ the messenger.
We see explicit and implicit evidence of this principle all through scripture. Folks often observe that Moses lived two entire life experiences — being brought up in the royal court in Egypt and being a shepherd in the wilderness — before he was ready for the real mission God had for him. Likewise, how much unwelcome training did Joseph undergo in Potiphar’s house and in the Egyptian jail before he was promoted to the ultimate role God meant for him to play? And we are well-acquainted with the years of apprenticeship before the disciples were sent out to make disciples of all nations.
We human beings are often impatient. Like Daniel LaRusso of The Karate Kid, we want to get right to thing that we think we are supposed to be doing and are oblivious to the preliminary steps of training that necessarily come first. But I find that almost anything I undertake makes me wait to begin.
If we have lived long enough, we will see the truth of this principle in our own rear-view mirrors. We look back and see the evidence of God’s provident timing and preparation. We recognize how he used experiences in the past to prepare us for the present.
Or perhaps we are in that unwelcome waiting period right now. That is much harder to see while we are in the midst of it. But we can trust! The Lord has his ways, and we may be certain that he will “prepare the surface” well in order to accomplish his good will in us and through us.
I had been out on a first date with a particular girl, and while she and I were together, it felt silly to interrupt our good time with something as arbitrary as a curfew. It wouldn’t matter if I was five minutes late, I reasoned at first. And once I had given into the five minutes, it was easy and natural to extend it to ten minutes. Then fifteen. Then a half-hour. And, well, you get the idea.
So when I finally arrived home, I was inexcusably late. And my father had stayed up. And so, when I pulled in the driveway and saw evidence through the window that he was waiting for me, I was very nervous as I walked through the door. What was he going to say? What was his attitude toward me going to be?
If you’ve ever been guilty of anything, you know the feeling. Failing a test at school. Dropping a ball during the game. Being late with an assignment at work. Not to mention many, many worse things that you or I may have done along the way. When we are guilty of some failure or offense, we wait with some trepidation to see how the offended or disappointed party will respond to us.
We see this dynamic played out again and again in scripture. At the very beginning, in the Garden of Eden, we observe the guilty and ashamed Adam and Eve running to hide for fear of an encounter with the Lord. And, ironically, the third steward in Matthew 25 miscalculates his responsibility because of his apprehension about his master’s attitude and demeanor.
The scripture readings assigned to us this week invite us to see our Master’s attitude and demeanor toward us. There is no doubt of our guilt. The question is what is he going to do about it? What is he going to say? When we pull into the driveway inexcusably late; when we fail so miserably on the test; when he finds us hiding among the trees — what will the Lord God do and say to you and me?
Hosea 1:2-10, 22-31, Psalm 8
Except for some well-known stories from Daniel, a couple of spirituals inspired by Ezekiel, and familiar, seasonal passages read at Christmas, Palm Sunday, and Good Friday from Micah, Isaiah, and Zechariah, the Old Testament prophets are unfamiliar territory for most of the people in our pews. The prophetic books represent about a fourth of the chapters of the Old Testament, yet most folks find them inaccessible. They are not as immediately comprehensible as, say, Job, Psalms, or Proverbs. They are not as easy to follow and understand as the narratives of the Old Testament history books. Instead, they assume historical and geographical background information that the average reader doesn’t have. And, in addition to those factors, the prophets also feature a challenging array of genres.
Given all of that, our Old Testament lection will likely be foreign territory for many of our congregants. Yet the Hosea selection will serve not only to carry its own beauty and meaning but will also offer a chance to give a broader understanding of the prophets in general. Specifically, the passage reveals principles about both the prophet’s calling and the prophet’s message.
The first thing we learn about Hosea when we begin to read the book that bears his name is the strange assignment he receives from God. Put bluntly, the Lord directs his prophet to marry an adulterous woman: a woman who will be sexually unfaithful to Hosea. It seems like a completely counterintuitive instruction from God. Yet there is divine purpose behind the unlikely commission: “for the land commits flagrant infidelity.”
The point is not at all that Gomer’s behavior is being endorsed by God. Rather, the point is that God’s experience is being shared by Hosea. It is because God’s covenant partner is chronically unfaithful to him that His representative should experience a marriage to a woman who will be unfaithful to him.
The prophet, you see, is the Lord’s middleman. He stands between God and God’s people. And, as such, he shares the experience of both.
When we watch Jeremiah living through the Babylonian onslaught and destruction of Jerusalem, we see that the prophet shares the experience of God’s people. And when we watch Hosea bearing the pain of infidelity, we see that the prophet shares the experience of God himself.
Meanwhile, the assigned selection from Hosea has two parts — natural companions, which introduce and then resolve a theme. In the first section, there is the word of judgment that is poignantly captured by the names of Hosea’s children. But then, in the second section, those judgment statements are reversed. The sin is replaced by forgiveness, the judgment is replaced by restoration, and the brokenness is replaced by reconciliation.
This, too, offers broader insight into the prophets in general, for what we see in this small sample from Hosea is typical of a larger pattern. The majority of the canonical prophets are labeled “judgment prophets.” Yet “judgment,” in the foreboding sense of the term, is not the only message that those so-called judgment prophets bring. On the contrary, there is almost always an accompanying word that offers the hope and promise of restoration. Judgment is never the last word with God. After all, the most cataclysmic judgment to-date, the flood, had deliverance and a fresh start built into it. And the final judgment anticipated at the end of the age gives birth to the inauguration of the new heaven, new earth, and new Jerusalem.
Finally, even more important than what we learn about Hosea in particular or the prophets in general is what we learn in Hosea 1 about the Lord himself. We learn that he sees himself as in an intimate relationship with his people. He is not detached from them, indifferent to them, and unaffected by what they do. And yet, for all of their presumptuous and galling infidelity, his love and ultimate good purpose for them remain and prevail.
Colossians 2:6-15 (16-19)
As usual, the Apostle Paul provides us with a very dense passage. This is not the sort of lection that is simply read aloud and immediately understood and internalized by a congregation. This will require some deliberate study.
In our preaching, it might be most natural to take a thematic approach. That is to say, we might simply deal with the elements of this epistolary message that suit whatever larger theme we might be preaching. We find here soteriology, Christology, and instruction for Christian living. It might be most efficient and effective for our preaching, therefore, simply to highlight whichever of those matters is most pertinent to the sermonic theme.
For our purposes here, however, I think it might be a profitable exercise to rewrite our selected passage chronologically. That is to say, all of the major thematic elements that Paul presents are framed in terms of time, and so we might see and understand those themes more clearly if we uncovered the implicit timeline. I believe such a treatment, while perhaps not suitable for a sermon, will be helpful to the preacher who endeavors to preach this passage.
And so, if we were going to attempt to rewrite Paul’s points in chronological order, we would begin with the person of Christ and move then to the work of Christ. As to his person, we see in verses 9 and 10 that “in him all the fullness of deity dwells in bodily form” and that, “he is the head over every ruler and authority.” His work, meanwhile, is captured in verses 14-15: He “canceled the certificate of debt consisting of decrees against us,” and he “]disarmed the rulers and authorities, he made a public display of them, having triumphed over them through him.”
We come next, then, to the Colossians’ condition, prior to their salvation: “dead in your wrongdoings and the uncircumcision of your flesh” (verse 13). Then they “were instructed” (verse 7) and they “received Christ Jesus the Lord” (verse 6). That, in turn, resulted in a complete change of status and relationship. They have been “firmly rooted” (verse 7), “made complete” (verse 10), “circumcised with a circumcision performed without hands” (verse 11), “buried with him” and “raised with him” (verse 12), and “made...alive together with him” (verse 13). They have been “forgiven all (their) wrongdoings” (verse 13) and are “now being built up in him and established in (their) faith” (verse 7).
With that history, experience, and context in mind, then, Paul’s exhortation is that the Colossians should “walk in him...overflowing with gratitude” (verses 6, 7) And, furthermore, they are weaned to make sure that “no one who takes (them) captive through philosophy and empty deception in accordance with human tradition, in accordance with the elementary principles of the world” (verse 8).
I believe such a chronological retelling of the truths that Paul expresses here helps to clarify them. The passage — and the gospel message it contains — is perhaps more easily understood when treated sequentially rather than thematically. And that clear understanding, then, can be conveyed to our people as we preach Paul’s words to the Colossians.
Luke 11:1-13
If the lectionary would permit me to take my time with this passage, I would preach more than just one sermon from it. Indeed, how many pulpiteers through the years have turned just The Lord’s Prayer itself into an entire series of sermons! But even if I were to restrain myself on that score, I would be inclined to preach four separate sermons from our gospel lection. Perhaps it would be a four-part series, titled, “How to Pray.”
First, there is the marvelous request from the disciples, which deserves its own sermon, titled, “The Request.” Almost everything that you and I and the people in our pews know how to do we learned either by observation, by instruction, or by practice. And, in most cases, we learned by some combination of those three. Given that fact of how we learn how to do things, it is worth considering how we have learned how to pray. What examples have we had? What instruction have we received? And how much do we practice?
In the case of the disciples, they were asking for instruction. And they were asking for instruction from the best possible teacher! It is worth reflecting on the times in our lives when we have asked someone else to teach us how to do something. And, at the beginning of this series, I would encourage my church family to follow the disciples in asking Jesus to teach us how to pray.
As we noted above, the disciples asked for instruction from the best possible teacher. And we are immensely fortunate to have a record of the instruction that he gave to them. The second sermon in the series, therefore, would be titled, “The Answer.” In this sermon, I would simply endeavor to invite people to use The Lord’s Prayer as a standard against which to evaluate their own praying. Specifically, after the profound salutation of the prayer (which is its own gospel message!), Jesus recommends a handful of petitions. It is interesting that The Lord’s Prayer does not include any confession or thanksgiving sections, for those of course are necessarily personal. Instead, Jesus is simply giving us a model of what our petitions should be — what we should be asking for in prayer. And my encouragement would be for each individual to juxtapose what he or she customarily asks for in prayer with what Jesus teaches us to ask for in prayer.
The third sermon in the series would be titled, “The Style.” Having told us the ideal content of our praying, Jesus goes on to teach us about the ideal style of our praying. To make his point, he tells a story. And it is, we blush to confess, the story of a man whom most of us would regard as obnoxious if he lived next door to us. Yet he is Jesus’ role model for prayer. And so, we are encouraged and challenged by the one through whom we pray to pray with unapologetic and unflagging persistence.
Finally, the fourth sermon in the series would be titled, “The Relationship.” Even private prayer, you see, is not a solitary act. By its very nature, prayer is relational. And Jesus is reminding us of the heart and will of the one with whom we are in prayerful relationship. So having taught us what to ask and how to ask, he shows us now the nature of the one whom we ask. While we may need to have the boldness and persistence of the knocking neighbor, we mustn’t assume that God plays the part of the one who is asleep and refuses to get up. No, but rather we make our requests of a loving Father whose impulse and eagerness is to give us all that we need.
The lectionary does not give me all the time that I might want to preach this passage. But I share with you what I might do with it in the hope that some part of my treatment might prove beneficial to you in what you prepare and preach this Sunday.
Application
In 1973, noted psychiatrist Karl Menninger published a book titledWhatever Became of Sin? In it, Menninger observed and lamented the way that the culture was trying to eradicate the concept of sin as a legitimate diagnosis of the human condition. And, in the half-century since then, the trend that Menninger detected has only become more expansive and more entrenched. In 2022, the culture’s version of saving a person from sin is to dismiss the idea of sin. All balls are fair, after all, if you just erase all the foul lines!
The Bible wants us to be saved from sin, too, but it explores a more honest way. Rather than pretending we are well, scripture reveals the cure for our sickness. And so, the passages we read in both the Old and New Testaments this week do not shy away from acknowledging candidly our sinful plight.
The people of Hosea’s audience, for example, were compared to an adulterous wife. And, in response to their infidelity, they were introduced to the tragic consequences of their sinfulness. They were warned about being cut off from their privileged relationship with the Lord and losing in the process all of the blessings and benefits of belonging to him.
The people of Paul’s audience eight centuries later, meanwhile, were happily in a different condition than Hosea’s people. The Colossians’ sinfulness and rebellion was a rear-view-mirror phenomenon, and so the apostle was able to address it in the past tense and focus on better news. But his “dead in your wrongdoings” characterization was Paul’s pull-no-punches diagnosis of their former condition.
In the face of such human guilt, then, what is the response of the holy God?
The prophet proclaims in poetic terms the mercy of God toward his unfaithful people, and the promises of restoration and redemption. The apostle writes in more theological terms, but the good news is the same: God himself has initiated our salvation, and that at his own expense. And lest we wonder how such undeserved favor is plausible, Jesus reminds us of the fundamental nature of our relationship to God: “your heavenly Father.”
Human fathers are always imperfect — some more than others. I am happy to say, though, that how my human father raised and treated me makes it very easy for me to understand God as Father. He did not minimize my egregious breaking of curfew that night, but neither did he allow it to break our relationship, nor did he let my guilt call into question his love.
A part of the great, good news that you and I are privileged to preach is that my proposed title for this week is the wrong question. We sinners are not like the nervous, guilty child who wonders, “What’s he gonna do?” Rather, we are in the marvelous position of people on this side of the incarnation, the crucifixion, and the resurrection, and so we proclaim and affirm what he already did!
Alternative Application(s)
Hosea 1:2-10, 22-31 — “Prior to Use”
Almost anything I undertake to do at home that comes with instructions makes me wait to begin. Before I assemble the bookcase or bicycle, I am instructed to lay out and take inventory of all the parts first. Before I bake the pizza, I am told to preheat the oven. Before I paint the door or wall, I understand that I must do some things to prepare the surface.
So many things that we endeavor to do feature at least some preliminary steps. We can’t just jump right in and start the thing, for some preparation is required first. And perhaps that is true in the Lord’s relationship to us, as well.
At the beginning of our Old Testament lection, we are introduced to the prophet Hosea with these words: “When the Lord first spoke through Hosea, the Lord said to Hosea, ‘Go, take for yourself a wife inclined to infidelity...’” That’s a fascinating sentence. Consider the order of events.
We know that the Lord spoke through the prophet Hosea. Most of the 14 chapters that comprise his book, after all, are filled with the messages that the Lord spoke through Hosea. Yet the first thing the Lord said to Hosea was not something for Hosea to turn around and say to the people. Rather, the first thing the Lord said to Hosea was an instruction about what Hosea was to do.
In short, the first task for the prophet was not a “say” but a “do.” And the Lord’s first order of business for Hosea was not public but private. Just as I must prepare the surface before I can paint the wall, evidently the Lord must prepare the prophet before he can employ the messenger.
We see explicit and implicit evidence of this principle all through scripture. Folks often observe that Moses lived two entire life experiences — being brought up in the royal court in Egypt and being a shepherd in the wilderness — before he was ready for the real mission God had for him. Likewise, how much unwelcome training did Joseph undergo in Potiphar’s house and in the Egyptian jail before he was promoted to the ultimate role God meant for him to play? And we are well-acquainted with the years of apprenticeship before the disciples were sent out to make disciples of all nations.
We human beings are often impatient. Like Daniel LaRusso of The Karate Kid, we want to get right to thing that we think we are supposed to be doing and are oblivious to the preliminary steps of training that necessarily come first. But I find that almost anything I undertake makes me wait to begin.
If we have lived long enough, we will see the truth of this principle in our own rear-view mirrors. We look back and see the evidence of God’s provident timing and preparation. We recognize how he used experiences in the past to prepare us for the present.
Or perhaps we are in that unwelcome waiting period right now. That is much harder to see while we are in the midst of it. But we can trust! The Lord has his ways, and we may be certain that he will “prepare the surface” well in order to accomplish his good will in us and through us.
