Eagle Harbor Congregational Church, UCC

Sermon preached by Rev. Emily Tanis-Likkel

July 17, 2011

Cords of Love

Hosea 11:1-11

I attended a young adult Bible Study last week that was hosted by a group from Plymouth Church in Seattle. We discussed a book called The Jesus Diaries, which is a compilation of perspectives on Jesus by writer-theologians in the UCC. Tony Robinson’s essay described his understanding of Jesus as much more than the ultimate role model. He wrote, “We aren’t simply good people in need of education. We are sinners in need of redemption. We need a Savior.” The Bible Study participants grappled with this idea of whether or not we needed a Savior. We were progressives--don’t we leave the concept of sin for the other denominations? We talked about the UCC tendency to focus on the resurrected Christ over the crucified Christ. We were all familiar with the discomfort of talking about sin. Yet there is a grace and a freedom with being comfortable talking about sin. It is difficult to understand the world if we don’t talk about sin, because there is a whole lot of evil in it. Sin is falling out of step with God. Some of the sin in our lives is corporate sin, wound up in the systems of society, and some of it is wound right up in the choices we make. It pains God to see God’s children wander away; distracted, destructive.

Barbara Brown Taylor wrote “sin is our only hope, because the recognition that something is wrong is the first step toward setting it right again.”^[1] The concept of sin shouldn’t be avoided, because it is a recognition of what separates us from God.  When we can name it and confess it, then we can begin again. If we sense that our life is out of whack, we can go to God and say, help. If we’re headed in the wrong direction, we can pray for the strength to stop and change course. The Old Testament prophets constantly reminded the people to turn back to God. They gave their message with great passion and conviction.  This summer we are focusing on the Minor Prophets, those OT prophets whose brief books in the Bible give a picture of God being intensely affected by the injustice, unfaithfulness and rebellion of the Israelites. They also depict God as deeply personal, inescapably loving.

Today we are introduced to the prophet Hosea. Hosea depicted God as a loving husband and the Israelites as an unfaithful wife. Hosea chose a wife who would not be faithful, in order to truly understand the anguish experienced by God. Hosea identified so closely with God’s heart, that he lived out the scenario of betrayal in his own life. He married a woman who was a prostitute and follower of the baals, the pagan religion. As we heard in the dramatic reading, the three children of Hosea and Gomer were given names that described Israel’s rejection of God. Despite the heartache in his own family, Hosea never stopped loving them. He was always there. His love for them was not qualified by ifs ands and buts. It was a true, pure, unconditional love.  

He reflected in his own family the brokenness between God and the Israelites.  This was a profound illustration for getting his point across.  Hosea also portrays God as a Parent rejected by her children. We read in the text, God lamenting: “The more I called them, the more they went from me . . .” The human tendency to a sense of entitlement, of not seeing outside our little worlds is childlike. It is a familial love that God has for humanity. Like all human families, it’s complicated. Our relationship with God is dysfunctional because we are dysfunctional. God’s heart breaks when we forget what God has done for us. Yet God’s compassion overrides God’s sorrow. Mercy trumps law. Grace is extended. It is so difficult to accept God’s grace! We go to the baals and put our trust in things that do not last. True repentance, turning around, goes beyond saying a prefunctory “I’m Sorry” and owns and acts on the responsibility we have to join with God in creating a transformed world.

The prophet Hosea lived in constant communion with God. He deeply empathized with God’s sense of betrayal. The Israelites went to God when they got in a pinch, but for everyday concerns they put their trust in the Canaanite fertility gods. They chose syncretism, a blending of religions, because they did not put their trust wholly in God.  They loved the God of their ancestors, the God of the covenant, but when it came to praying for rain, it was a different story. They turned their backs on God and participated in the pagan religion of the day, one that was destructive and immoral.

I’m a Christian, but it’s complicated, we might say. “It’s complicated” is a favorite for relationship status on Facebook. At the Bible Study, we talked about a reticence to speak of God in a personal way, an awkwardness with evangelism. We qualify our testimony with what we don’t believe about God. The Christian right makes it harder to be heard, at least that’s what we tell ourselves.  God tells us, it’s not that complicated. I love you. Love me back. Uncomplicate your relationship with God. See the cords of love that connect you. God is leading us to live in solidarity with God. Here in the bands of love we can begin again.

The parable of the wheat and weeds that we heard this morning from the Gospel of Matthew is about the presence of both good and evil in the world. Our roots are always intertwined. Good and evil tangled together. Each of us is a tangle of love and fear, shame and grace. May we work with God to untangle the mess of fear, shame and hate in our lives. May we weed out whatever separates us from God. The Gospel reading reminds us that we are all tangled up together. What affects one affects all. We trust in the baals of over-indulgence, we go to the altar of greed. The Israelites put their trust in the fertility gods, we put our trust in whatever promises to get us ahead in life. Like the forgiveness Hosea offers Gomer, the repair of relationship that God offers us goes beyond saying “all is forgiven,” to an invitation to love and be loved. Hosea wrote that despite the constant betrayal of the Israelites, God said of them: “And I will take you for my wife forever; I will take you for my wife in righteousness and in justice, in steadfast love, and in mercy.”

Penance is often thought of as a thing of the past. It was a rite that was corrupted and thrown out of the church. But penance in its simplicity, uncomplicated by church history, is repairing what one has done wrong. Even if we don’t use the word much anymore, the concept is relevant: when we take strides to make reparations, we go beyond the words of reconciliation and actually begin to live it.  I ask my kids to use the words of confession and forgiveness, even when they don’t feel sorry. It is frustrating though, when a child repeatedly says, “sorry” for a wrong done, and then simply does it again. I’ve thought, maybe I shouldn’t teach them to say it if they don’t feel it.

There is value in the act of saying the words, and I believe that at some point after age four that their intellect and empathy will catch up with the ritual. The confession is given more meaning if they do something to repair the wrong. When we go beyond the words to offer an embrace to the one we hurt, or to give up something to that person, it reminds us to live differently. If we are sorry for our part in the degradation done to the environment, we should not resign ourselves to the sadness of it, but do all we can to restore the earth. If we sense a corporate responsibility for the inequalities in society, we can advocate for politics that affirm equal rights.

How do we complicate our relationship with the God who loves us with a pure, true love? Do we ever reject this love because we don’t see ourselves as deserving of it, forgetting that grace is a gift? Do we ever go to more tangible, human constructs that offer meaning but leave us feeling empty? Do we confess with words but fail to change direction?

God, through the prophet Hosea, said, When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son. The more I called them, the more they went from me; they kept sacrificing to the Baals, and offering incense to idols. Yet it was I who taught Ephraim to walk, I took them up in my arms; but they did not know that I healed them. I led them with cords of human kindness, with bands of love. I was to them like those who lift infants to their cheeks. I bent down to them and fed them.

God loves us so completely. Do we see the cords that connect us to God? May we be in such constant communion with God that we sense when we begin to stray. May we confess and accept God’s forgiveness. May we listen well, in order to get back on course toward wholeness in our relationship with God, that we are able to repair what is broken in our relationships with one another, and join with God and our brothers and sisters in the task of restoring the world.