John Mark Hicks

Delivered at the Restoration Collective in Dallas, TX, on April 21, 2026.

“But a devotional and sanctifying reading of that sacred Book, is essentially different from the readings of the theologian, the moralist, the sectary, and the virtuoso of every caste and school. The man of God reads the Book of God to commune with God, “to feel after him, and find him,” to feel his power and his divinity stirring within him; to have his soul fired, quickened, animated by the spirit of grace and truth. He reads the Bible to enjoy the God of the Bible; that the majesty, purity, excellency, and glory of its Author may overshadow him, inspire him, transform him, and new-create him in the image of God. . . God speaks; he listens. Occasionally, and almost unconsciously, at intervals he forgets that he reads, he speaks to God, and his reading thus often terminates in a devotional conversation with God.”

Alexander Campbell, Millennial Harbinger (January 1839) 38

“We don’t understand the words of a person we love by first dissecting them, but rather by simply receiving such words and letting them echo within us all day long. . . This is how we should treat the words of the Bible. Only when we dare to deal with the Bible in this way, as if here God is really speaking to us, loving us, and does not want to leave us alone with our questions–only then will we find joy in the Bible.”

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, I Want to Live these Days with You, 289

Reading Scripture is a means to an end, but not the end in itself. Both Campbell and Bonhoeffer understood this. We read to enjoy God and commune with God so that the glory of God might transform us and create us anew. Reading Scripture becomes a means by which God stirs our minds, hearts, and souls that we might be animated by the Spirit of Christ, the Spirit of grace and truth. Reading Scripture is a means of grace; the spoken words become an explosive and transformative encounter.

Discipleship, though often couched in individualistic terms, is a communal process because disciples belong to a community. The invitation to “follow me” is a shared call, not an isolated one.  As a communal reality, discipleship stands upon and under Scripture as the primary word that identifies and shapes what it means to follow Jesus. Therefore, we do not read Scripture, according to Stanely Hauerwas, “as democratic citizens who think their common sense is sufficient for understanding Scripture” who “feel no need to stand under the authority of the truthful community to be told how to read.” Many “assume,” he writes, “that they have all the ‘religious experience’ necessary to know what the Bible is about. As a result,” Hauerwas continues, “the Bible inherently becomes the ideology for a politics quite different from the politics of the church” (Unleashing the Scriptures [1993] 15).

While a democratic common sense leads to the dominance of political ideology, reading Scripture in a community of disciples is artegenic, as Ellen T. Charry put it (By the Renewing of Your Minds [1977] 19). The purpose of theology—grounded in Scripture as its primary source and shaped by communal engagement—is character or spiritual formation. Theology should give the people of God an identity (a sense of calling and status) and equip them with values that form them into the image of Christ.

We read, embrace, and teach the story of God given to us in Scripture so that, as Titus 3:8 puts it, when we “stress things . . . those who trusted God may be careful to devote themselves to doing what is good.” The goal is a beloved community that does good.

An Encounter

Reading Scripture, then, is a means of grace which serves the goal of renewal or transformation into the image of God by participating in communities of faith that seek to embody that image. The aim is transformation (a community devoted to good works) by entering the story of God as believers seeking understanding. To place this reading of Scripture as an act of discipleship and formative for discipleship into a larger frame, consider these four bullet points.

• Reading Scripture is an act of piety; a liturgical act of listening to God. It is a word about God from God heard through God who inhabits us.
• Reading Scripture is a transformative encounter with God; it is experiential, an existential communion with God.
• Reading Scripture is an act of loving God and loving neighbor as the foundation of life with God in the world.
• Reading Scripture nourishes the community of faith through divine habitation.

Scripture is living and active, a means of grace by which God encounters us in the Spirit. God actively encounters and transforms. Thus, the act of reading Scripture is a sacramental one, a means of divine presence and action.  Reading Scripture is a pneumatological event—God acts and shapes us through reading.

When we encounter God through Scripture, the authority of God calls us, disciples us, and forms us into the image of God. We encounter authority as we encounter God’s own self. To be sure, it is a loving encounter but can also be confrontational as we are called to repentance and embrace a new allegiance as we enter the kingdom of God.

A Contrast

Over the years I have slowly shifted from reading Scripture as a legal brief designed to provide a specific blueprint for organizing a church to reading Scripture as a story into which we are invited in order to participate in the mission of God by imitating God.

Growing up in Churches of Christ, I embraced and practiced a hermeneutic that sought an implicit blueprint for the work and worship of the church in Acts and the Epistles. Through a filter of generic/specific distinctions, coordinate associations, the law of silence, and expediency (among other rules for authorization), I shifted through the commands, examples, and inferences within the New Testament to deduce a blueprint, which then became the standard of faithfulness and a mark of the true church. And if everyone agreed upon and practiced the blueprint, we would be united!

The problem is the location of the pattern. The pattern is not found in an implied blueprint in Acts and the Epistles. Paul does not call people to obedience based on a blueprint identified by the practices of the church. Instead, he calls them to obedience based on the pattern manifested in the incarnation, life, death, resurrection, and exaltation of Jesus. This is the gospel we obey—the story of Jesus—rather than a blueprint we have inferred from the text. This gospel story is the narrative air we breathe. The pattern of God’s work through Christ in the power of the Spirit is explicit, objective, and formative.

We will discover unity when we confess the same pattern, and the shame of our past divisions is that we already confess the same pattern. Our pattern is God acting in Jesus through the Spirit, or the gospel itself. Here we are united, and our hermeneutic must not undermine that unity but provide ways to embody it. This past shame, however, may become our authentic hope—to embody the pattern of Jesus in our lives and communities.

This involves a hermeneutical shift that entails a different understanding of the authority of the Bible. Whereas the blueprint hermeneutic located God’s authority in the blueprint—what God authorized, specified, and excluded, a theological reading locates the authority in God’s acts—the pattern of God’s activity. Scripture mediates God’s authority not by a specified blueprint but by witnessing to the acts of God for our salvation. The authority of God is meditated through the story of God where we encounter God’s own self.

For blueprint patternism, the authority of the Bible is found in what it authorizes and excludes. It is a legal search for the boundaries, specifics, and rituals of ecclesial life. But a more story-formed approach hears God’s speaking through Scripture, but authority does not reside in Scripture per se but in the God who self-discloses in the story.

A Story

A Hindu friend of Lesslie Newbigin, a long term missionary in India a generation ago, told him this (from A Walk Through the Bible, 4): “I can’t understand why you missionaries present the Bible to us in India as a book of religion. It is not a book of religion–and anyway we have plenty of books of religion in India. We don’t need any more! I find in your Bible a unique interpretation of universal history, the history of the whole creation and the history of the human race. And therefore a unique interpretation of the human person as a responsible actor in history. That is unique. There is nothing else in the whole religious literature of the world to put alongside it.”

Scripture offers an interpretation of human existence in relation to God within God’s good creation. This interpretation is fundamentally a narrative into which we are invited—not as religionists but as human beings.

A healthy reading of the Scripture assumes a Triune understanding of the basic story to which the text bears witness, that is, God creating, revealing, and redeeming the world as the Father sends the Son and then sends the Spirit through the Son for the sake of recreating humanity in the image of God. The story—the canonical world—is the world in which the church reads, understands, and applies Scripture for formation as disciples of Jesus. It equips us for participation in the mission of God.

Scripture bears witness to God’s redemptive acts, interprets them and appropriates their significance for the people of God in their particular circumstances. Our task to understand the meaning of God’s redemptive acts through Scripture’s own witness, and then to interpret and appropriate its significance in our own particular circumstance. We recognize the occasionality of Scripture, but we perceive its narrative theological unity and embrace those values in our contemporary setting.

A Call

The language of Scripture privileges the vocative rather than the descriptive. Words are not merely signs for things but a call from the God. The God of Israel and Jesus invite us to participate in this redemptive drama. This prioritizes the relational over predication within Scripture. It prioritizes the personal over propositional reality. The function of Scripture is to make us wise unto wholeness (salvation)—sapiential rather than primarily or fundamentally propositional.

The Christian faith is not so much defined in terms of a set of beliefs as it is characterized by the story it performs (e.g., “Rule of Faith”)—practicing the kingdom of God in the created though broken world.  It is not the doctrinal affirmations that define Christianity but how the drama is enacted.  Truth is being and doing rather than mere propositional affirmations.  Truth is fundamentally performative; it is lived.  Truth is evidenced in the practice of the kingdom.  Praxis in community precedes maturation of faith and knowledge—communal practices shape faith and knowledge. Theology functions as dramatic direction for our participation in the story.

This leads to missional interpretation. This means that we indwell the story driven by the mission of God so that we are enabled to perform the drama and participate in that mission. Consequently, we locate every text of Scripture within the drama, view it through the lens of the mission of God, and read it as participants in the mission. And we do so in dialogue with each other, both within and without our own faith communities. At the same time, our own missional praxis and practices are a resource for new meaning within the story we indwell.

Missional interpretation focuses on praxis as participation in God’s mission. Interpretation is no mere mental exercise but embodied so that the church’s participation is always already shaping how we interpret reality. In this sense, while theological hermeneutics is “faith seeking understanding,” missional hermeneutics is “works seeking understanding” (as per our friend, Greg McKinzie).

Just as missional theology and practice prioritize the question, “What is God doing in this situation?” So, the missional reading of Scripture prioritizes the question, “What is God doing in this text?” Or, what is the word God speaks through this text? Or more fully, how does this text not only participate in the mission of God, but also how does it bear witness to the mission of God? But this is incomplete without appropriation.

An Appropriation

This language comes from Paul Riceour. To appropriate what is in a text is to “make what was alien become one’s own.” The “matter of the text” is what is appropriated. “But,” Riceour says, “the matter of the text becomes my own only if I disappropriate myself, in order to let the matter of the text be. So I exchange the me, master of itself, for the self, disciple of the text” (Hermeneutics and the Human Sciences, 113).

As we think about inhabiting the story, what we appropriate is a “proposed world”—a world that the text through appropriation “unfolds, discovers, reveals.” This happens as we expose ourselves to the text and receive from it an “enlarged self.” This proposed existence fits the proposed world, lives coherently within it, and lives out the trajectory of the text. Discipled by the text “as a reader,” Riceour writes, “I find myself only by losing myself” (Hermeneutics and the Human Sciences, 143).

Interpretation—or the hermeneutical event—is not complete without appropriation where reading becomes an existential “event in the present moment.” It is an event because the text is addressed to a person, and the person appropriates the proposed world of the text. In this way, “as appropriation, interpretation becomes an event” (Interpretation Theory, 92).

Interpretation as appropriation has at least two moves. First, it seeks “the internal dynamic” of the text “that governs the structuring of the world,” that is, the dynamic that creates the proposed world. Second, the text has the power to “project itself” and “give birth to a world that would truly be the ‘thing’ referred to by the text” (From Text to Antion, 17). Hermeneutics both reconstructs the “internal dynamic of the text” and “restore[s] to the work its ability to project itself outside itself in the representation of a world that the reader could inhabit” (From Text to Action, 113). That is the “world of the text” readers are invited to inhabit.

When we read Scripture, we seek to be discipled by the world that Scripture proposes, the kingdom of God. We submit to that world, embody it, and practice it. Theological interpretation may help us discern that world in terms of Scripture’s inner dynamic, but missional interpretation illuminates the reality of that world through praxis, that is, by actually acting as disciples in the world.

A Theological Summary of the Hermeneutical Event

A reader (within and with the present traditioned community) inhabited by the author (pneuma of God—individually and communally), reads the text (the product of a pneumatic, traditioned community) in community (present, global, and historic) for the sake of wisdom (listening to God’s wisdom) to inhabit its world (the kingdom of God) and perform the drama and participate in that world (missio Dei), depending upon God’s active leading (pneumatology).

In Honor of Dr. Seth Fletcher (46 Years Old)

Memorial on April 25, 2026

The opening poem is beautifully crafted and memorable. It is probably the most well-known part of Ecclesiastes. It has a lyrical quality which The Byrds used in their 1965 hit, “Turn! Turn! Turn!”  

The poem articulates the extremes of human existence from birth to death, from love to hate, from mourning to dancing, from peace to war. Life “under the sun” is filled with both, and there is no escape from its reality.

Many find comfort in the words of the poem. By its very nature, poetry may have many levels of meaning, and it may be appropriated in different ways. The situation of the reader will shape how it is heard, and this is part of the point as poetry draws out and speaks our emotions.

What I find striking is that the Teacher (or Qoheleth) is frustrated by the poem. The teacher’s response is basically, “What’s the use?” or “What’s the point?” Life goes round and round, cycling from one extreme to another. There does not seem to be any profit in how life plays out. Qoheleth’s response to the poem is the same as the opening question of the book, “What do people gain from all the toil at which they toil under the sun?” (1:3).

Life feels like a burden that makes no sense. It is frustrating.

Qoheleth expresses this frustration by recognizing that God has put “eternity” (הָעֹלָם֙) in our hearts. Whatever that may mean, God has given humanity a sense of time, “a sense of past and future” (NRSV), that in our present human experience is beyond our wisdom. We can’t figure it out. We “cannot find out what God has done from beginning to the end.”

Nevertheless, the Teacher believes God “has made everything suitable (or fitting) for its time.” I wish I knew exactly what that means. It does not seem to me that everything that happens is “suitable,” much less “beautiful” as some translations.

Today, as we remember Seth, we have many questions. We don’t understand how it is fitting for death to invade the life of the Fletchers when their son, husband, father, and brother passes suddenly and unexpectedly in his sleep at the age of forty-six.

With Qoheleth, the poem does not offer much comfort but raises many questions. It seems to me that the poem is more like a protest and a submissive acknowledgement. Even The Byrds used it to protest the Vietnam War as the last line in the lyric is “A time for peace, I swear it’s not too late.” It is not, in effect, a time for war.

Neither is 46 years a time for death. Seth’s death is a question mark. It does not make sense. Or, as Qoheleth would say, it is vanity (hebel, הֶ֖בֶל); it is an enigma, or perhaps even absurd. It is the brevity of life, and this it burden we must bear.

So, our lament, our pain and our hurt are shared by the Teacher, and it is shared by the Psalmists of Israel where almost half of the Psalms are lament. They are filled with questions like “How long?” (Psalm 13:1-2) or “Why?” (Psalm 88:14). The life of faith is filled with frustrations as life continuously cycles from birth to death, mourning to dancing, love to hate, and peace to war.

Nevertheless, the Teacher is resolute. His response to this frustration is determined and purposeful. The Teachers affirms some fundamental truths about life.

First, Qoheleth says, “I know there is nothing better for them than to be happy and enjoy themselves as long as they live; moreover, it is God’s gift that all should eat and drink and take pleasure in all their toil.”

Today we have been immersed in Seth’s “toil.”  He was a musician, professor, and husband and father. We have listened to the music he loved and played. We have heard stories of his love for family, even to the point of letting go of his career to homeschool his son and empower his wife to pursue her musical career in a military band.

This was Seth’s joy, and it was God’s gift to him. Seth found pleasure in his toil, in his music. He created beauty, created joy in the hearts of his audiences, and encouraged others to pursue the creative art of music. Seth knew something of what our Teacher expresses here—to enjoy life with God’s gifts.

Second, Qoheleth says, “I know that whatever God does endures forever.”

Love lasts forever; it is God’s own identity. Joy also lasts forever; it is God’s intent for humanity.

God was at work in Seth’s life, and what Seth created and shared with the world will endure because his love and joy will overflow again and again in the hearts of those who knew him and through his mentorship, care, and love for others. The joy and beauty of his music as a gift of God will endure forever.

This is the root of hope. The cycles of life is often frustrating, but God is at work in those cycles. God is making, creating, and acting in ways that are beyond us, beyond our discovery.

Perhaps in faith we might confess, “Yes, it is ‘fitting’—perhaps even ‘beautiful’”—while, at the same time, we cry out, “I believe, Lord; help my unbelief.”

Today we embrace hope, as Seth himself did. As he wrote, hope last forever. It will work, if we give our hearts space for God’s own working of hope in our lives.

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Spirit.” Romans 15:13

Whom shall I fear? There is only one thing that I want and that is to sit in the house of the Lord, inquire of the Lord, and wait to see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.

Psalm 27 is a confidence song, a song of trust. Though surrounded by adversaries and assaulted on every side, we will not be afraid because we live in God’s presence with security.

Psalm 22 is the lament and confession of a righteous sufferer in the expectation of God’s righteous deliverance. The Psalmist identifies with the story of Israel, and Jesus himself appropriates this Psalm for his own lament and confession in the hope of his own vindication.

This is not a Psalm about divine wrath or punishment for sin. Rather, it is the world all believers enter when we face suffering and death. We lament (“Why?”), we confess (“my God”), and we praise because we know God’s righteousness and kingdom will prevail.

This is the climax of Hosea’s series of oracles identifying the reason for Israel’s exile before offering hope in the next chapter. Again and again Hosea attempts to shock, persuade, and confront Israel with its unfaithfulness in hopes of their repentance and renewal. But Israel’s leaders—whether prophets, priests, or kings—were not listening.

They are living on past glory, but they don’t realize their glory was their shame. Sometimes what a nation glorifies is actually their shame. They became prosperous, but they turned their wealth toward idolatrous rituals, political power, military strength, and oppressive practices. Israel, the northern kingdom, is headed into exile because they did not use their prosperity to serve God but served themselves and credited other gods. They trusted in their military power and alliances rather than seeking the Lord.

Yahweh set them in the land to farrow it, plant, and reap. They had a choice to sow righteousness, reap steadfast love, and enjoy communion with God. But Israel chose to sow wickedness, reap injustice, and eat lies. Consequently, they suffered the consequences of their own choices, and their king was cut off and their calf lost its glory as it was carried to Assyria.

Prosperous but Idolatrous Israel (10:1-4)

Hosea remembers when Israel was a flourishing nation, which is particularly true under the reign of Jeroboam II. Together Israel and Judah reached the dimensions and prosperity of the reign of Solomon. It was the economic golden age for Israel during its independence from Judah.

While some translations use the present tense in Hosea 10:1 (NRSV), it is better to see this as past (NIV). There is no verb; its meaning and tense are supplied. “Israel was a spreading vine” identifies Israel’s growth period when Israel bore “fruit,” but it was a fruit “for” Israel. It was about them, their self-centeredness.

They used their prosperity to build more altars and pillars (or sacred stones). In other words, their cultic worship ritual was expanded, and we may presume that this was idolatrous in character (though the use of such shrines and pillars are known in the faithful history of Israel; cf. Exodus 20:24-26; Exodus 24:4; 1 Kings 6:20, 22). In fact, Deuteronomy 16:22 forbids the use of these tools in the service of foreign gods.

At the core is Israel’s heart. Hosea declares their heart “false” or “deceitful;” the Hebrew word literally means slippery or smooth. Their worship, even if offered to Yahweh, was not from a faithful heart. Consequently, Israel will suffer the consequences in the wake of their guilt, and God will destroy their shrines.

Instead of prosperity, Israel “now” lives with the unsettled political situation prior to the final fall of Samaria to Assyria. The political chaos of the successive assassinations of four kings renders Israel without a king—and ultimately there is no king in Israel when Assyria takes control.

Israel locates the reason for their situation—they did not fear the Lord. Consequently, their worship and civil practices (words and oaths) are meaningless. Injustice abounds and the political institutions have failed. The economic situation of the land is also chaotic through injustice, and what is growing in the land is poisonous. The fields are barren. Israel has no recourse. It will suffer its fate.

Samaria’s Idolatry (10:5-8)

Beth-Aven (10:5; cf. 4:15; 5:8) means the “House of Iniquity” or “House of Idolatry” which is a sarcastic assessment of Israel’s “house of God.” Samaria—representing Israel—had a calf (or calves in Dan and Bethel) that represented its unfaithfulness. Yet the people loved their calves and will mourn for their loss—a loss of glory, but not the glory of Yahweh; it is the glory of the false god represented by the calf. The calf (and its glory) will be carried to Assyria (Hosea 10:6) to honor the Assyrian Emperor, and by this Ephraim will be shamed by the loss of this idol. This glory contrasts with the glory of the Lord that one finds in the temple in Jerusalem. Not only has Israel lost the glory of its own idol, but more importantly it has not access to the glory of the Lord that led them out of Egypt so many years ago.

Along with the calf, Israel’s king will disappear as well. The high place where the calf sat at “Aven” will be destroy. Hosea calls it the “sin of Israel.”  This also evokes the image of the calf at Mount Sinai (as in Hosea 8:6).

The contrast between the prosperity in Hosea 10:1 and the economic disaster in Hosea 10:8 is important to note. Once a flourishing vine, now the land is a place of “thorns and thistles.” The altar that was once loved is now mourned. What was once was a thing of beauty is now covered with weeds. It no longer functions. Its meaning is totally lost.

The result is that the people will say to creation itself—release us from our misery and eliminate us. They will invite the mountains to crash on top of them as in an earthquake. They will seek escape in the face of the onslaught of the Assyrian empire’s ruthless warriors.

Samaria’s Unfaithful Monarchy and Fruitless Land (10:9-15)

The reference to Gibeah in Benjamin, which was king Saul’s hometown (1 Samuel 10:26; 15:34), alludes to a time of general corruption. The “days of Gibeah” remind us of the time of the Judges when sexual violence is committed against women in Judges 19-20, and then summarized as the time when everyone did what was right in their own eyes (Judges 17:6; 21:25). Given the stories of Gibeah at the origins of Israel’s presence in the land, Israel has a track record of corruption, violence, and iniquity. This is their undoing, and God punishes them for the continuation of the evil of Gibeah in their own day.

Once Israel was a trained heifer but now their land is fruitless. Once Israel flourished, God loved Israel and cared for her as one would care for a heifer. Her neck was beautiful and appreciated; God delighted in her. Yahweh wanted Israel and Judah to plow good ground and reap righteousness and hesed (steadfast love). There was always opportunity for Israel to seek the Lord and reap God’s blessings. Judah is also included in this prospect. Hosea brings the full horizon of God’s intent to guide Jacob (all 12 tribes) into righteousness as they dwelt in the land God gave them.

But the situation has changed. Israel sowed evil and reaped injustice rather than righteousness. Consequently, “the tumult of war” came to the people of Israel. Their leaders failed them. This is happening “because” Israel trusted in their “power,” particularly the size of their military.

We don’t know the historical context of the reference to Shalman (perhaps a shortened form of the Emperor Shalmaneser V or III, or a Moabite king named Salamanu but it is uncertain) destroying Beth-Arbel, which was probably located in east side of the Jordan or may have been near the lake of Galilee. Whatever it was, its horror was astonishing since it involved the death of mothers and their children. The incident evokes terror in the memory of Israel. This is probably a literal reference unlike what we saw earlier in Hosea. Their deaths are the evidence of war’s insanity and a prospect for the future. What was experienced at Beth-Arbel is coming to Israel by the hand of Assyria. What happened at Beth-Arbel will happen to Bethel, where one of the calves was located.

Therefore, there will be no more king in Israel. The land will be lost, and the people will be exiled. The nation will no longer exist.

But does this mean God is finished with Israel forever? Has God forgotten them? Hosea 11 answers that question.

Psalm 21 is a royal Psalm that locates the king’s strength in Yahweh’s steadfast love. Yahweh saves and blesses the king of Israel because the king trusts in the steadfast love of the Lord. Yahweh delivers the king from the enemies of Yahweh and gives him the glory of the Lord’s presence.

The Psalm idealizes the king, hopes the king will trust in the Lord, and trusts in God’s deliverance. Israel praises and worships Yahweh toward this end. Unfortunately, the kings of Israel did not live out this pattern of submission, trust, and deliverance. Ultimately, Israel was exiled.

However, the Messiah, Jesus of Nazareth, did. He submitted to the Father, trusted the Father, and the Father delivered him. He exalted him to the right hand, and the Messiah will reign until all enemies are put under his feet.

Bobby Valentine and John Mark Hicks discuss the Psalm.

The Feast of Tabernacles (Booths)—in Hebrew, Sukkoth—was one of great and festive celebrations of God’s grace. Israel lived in tents (booths) for seven days to reenact and remember God’s grace in the wilderness for forty years. They also celebrated the ingathering of grapes and olives as they planted grain in anticipation of the Spring harvest (Pentecost).

As Israel gathered to celebrate this festival, the prophet counsels them, “Do not rejoice!” Israel’s sacrifices will not be accepted because of their adulteries, their idolatries. Rather than festive celebration, it will be a time of mourning. Rather than deliverance, the prophet predicts destruction and exile.

No Joy at Your Feasts (Hosea 9:1-9)

Israel expects to celebrate an “appointed festival,” a “day of the festival of the Lord” (Hosea 9:5). This is probably the Feast of Tabernacles because of the allusions to Israel’s wilderness experience in Hosea 9.

The festival included feasting. It was celebrated with wine, grain, and animal sacrifices. But Israel had dedicated their threshing floor (for grain), their wine vats (for wine production) to idolatrous practices, and celebrated meals in honor of other gods. Israel has committed adultery; she is an unfaithful covenant partner.

Consequently, they will not remain in the land God gave them, but they will “return to Egypt” and “eat unclean food” in Assyria. The return to Egypt is probably symbolic, though some refugees fled to Egypt in the aftermath the fall of both Israel and Judah. It is symbolic of their origins: enslavement in Egypt. They will become landless once again and enslaved by another power. Assyria, however, is the primary topic. Many Israelites will be relocated to Assyria where they will eat unclean food, that is, Israel will not be able to practice Torah there.

In Assyria, Israel will not be able to come to the “house of the Lord.”  Yet Israel will seek Yahweh. They will pour out their drink offerings to the Lord and offer their sacrifices. But God will not accept them; they are like “mourners’ bread” which indicates there is no joy in this festival. It is filled with grief rather than joy. Such sacrifices defile rather than liberate.

So, what will Israel do “on the day of the festival of the Lord”? It is canceled. It is not possible because destruction is coming. Assyria will overwhelm Israel, and some will escape, possibly, to Egypt and Memphis (often regarded as a burial region). Death awaits them even in Egypt.

The “days of punishment” and “recompense” has come, but Israel’s regards Hosea as a fool for predicting Israel’s end. [It is possible that Hosea is describing a false prophet in Hosea 9:7, but himself in Hosea 9:8.] They are hostile to God’s sentinel or watchman; people who look for impeding danger. They won’t listen but have already set themselves against God’s intent for Israel through their adulteries.

Israel is deeply corrupted as in the days of Gibeah. This refers to the events narrated in Judges 19-21. The horrendous sexual abuse and murder of a concubine led the narrator to comment: “such a thing has not occurred or been seen since the day that Israel came up from Egypt” (Judges 19:30). In other words, the state of Israel under their kings was equivalent to the corruption of Israel under the last judges when there was no king and everyone did what was right in their own eyes (Judges 17:6; 21:25).

Therefore, God will remember Israel’s sins and judge her accordingly.

Consequences of Israel’s False Worship (Hosea 9:10-17)

Yahweh also remembers the beginnings of Israel. Her story could have ended other than it has. Yahweh remembers the grace of Israel’s beginnings even as God remembers their sins.

At one point God found grapes in the wilderness and figs on a tree in its first season—both totally unexpected; indeed, practically impossible. God’s grace created grapes and figs in a wilderness where they do not grow; God created Israel out of grace rather than merit.

But in the wilderness, though showered with God’s grace, “they came to Baal-peor” and consecrated to evil through their idolatry. The name refers to the story narrated in Numbers 25:1-11 (alluded to in Deuteronomy 4:3-4). Israelite men “played the harlot” with Moabite women (same word as in Hosea 4:13; 5:3; 9:1). God responded to Israel’s sin then, and Yahweh does so in the time of Hosea.

“Ephraim’s glory” will fly away. The glory of Ephraim is the presence of Yahweh among them. When Yahweh leaves, Ephraim is endangered and open to conquest by Assyria.

In effect, this reverses Israel’s fertility. There is no future for Israel—there are no children in their future.  This is not so much about actual births or specific children but a metaphor for the extinction of the nation as a political entity. In other words, the point is not infanticide but the loss of national identity with no hope of recovery as a nation on their own strength. They cannot populate the nation.

It is best to hear Hosea’s language in the context of political realities rather than the massacre of children. This is a common Ancient Near Eastern’s trope of destruction and loss, including the political extinction of a nation. God has rejected the nation, and therefore they have no future. The loss of children symbolizes that bleak future.

Israel’s future is not extinction as a people—they will wander among the nations. Consequently, this is not describing literal extinction and childlessness. Rather, it describes the loss of national or political status. The people are scattered among the nations but not extinguished.

Nevertheless, the loss of national identity is the consequence of Israel’s sin. Their behavior images Gibeah and Baal-peor rather than imaging Yahweh who graced them with existence. In the very wilderness where God found grapes and figs, Israel committed adultery with other gods. Therefore, for their adulteries, Israel’s feasts are not accepted and their future is bleak.

Hosea is redundant as he returns to the themes of idolatry and political alliances. This is more than literary style; it speaks to the stopped ears of his audience, their stubbornness, and the need to hear again—as a kind of last measure appeal—the deep corruption in their society. Apparently, the message is not penetrating their hearts, and the outcome will be disastrous. Hosea repeats himself, though with different metaphors and language, to press his point: Israel is in danger. They must repent, or they will suffer the consequences of their choices. They must recognize their corruption before reconciliation is possible. In this section, Hosea highlights the idolatrous calves of the northern kingdom and their political alliance with Assyria. Neither the calves nor Assyria will save them; only Yahweh can do that.

The Destruction of the Israel’s Idol—the Calf (Hosea 8:1-6)

Blow the sophar (“trumpet”)! Typically made of a ram’s horn, it was used in both rituals and military action, and also to announce the coming of the day of the Lord, the day of judgment where God appears to confront the people. Here it is probably a combination of impending military action which itself is the day of the Lord for Israel.

The sophar announces judgment because a predator is “over the house of the Lord.” While vulture is a possible translation, it seems more appropriate that a predatory eagle is in mind because it will devour Israel. The eagle was a symbol of Assyrian kings and their god Asshur. In fact, such an eagle is part of the curse in Deuteronomy 28:49-51, which refers to a nation that will consume the people’s wealth and devastate their resources.  The sophar announces the aggression of the Assyrian empire.

The reason is explicit: Israel is a covenant breaker, an adulterer. They have transgressed the Torah. They presume to know God. They cry out to God, even “my God” for deliverance. One might think of this as similar to Israel’s cry to God in Egypt (same verb in Exodus 2:23 and Hosea 8:2). But their cry is not from the heart (according to Hosea 7:14) and based on a false claim—they don’t know God. Israel has rejected the good God has offered (as in Numbers 10:29). Consequently, “the enemy” (Assyria) will overtake them and pursue them like a predatory eagle.

Instead of receiving God’s good gifts, they sought to generate their own and create their own world without Yahweh.

• They set up kings and rulers (princes) without God’s direction.
• They made idols with their precious metals.

Israel’s political system failed them. In the last years of the northern kingdom, four of the five kings were assassinated. But the primary topic in Hoses 8:4-6 is the “calf of Samaria.”

When the northern kingdom was established, Jeroboam I set up cultic sites in Bethel (in the south) and Dan (in the north), each with their own idolatrous calf. This is the same word used to describe the golden calf at Sinai in Exodus 32:4. The calves in Samaria (Ephraim, the nation of Israel) were echoes of the rebellion of Israel at Mt. Sinai—the original sin of Israel, one might say.

Yahweh rejects Samaria’s calf, just as God rejected the nation’s calf at Sinai. This does not necessarily mean there was a calf in the city of Samaria. Rather, Samaria refers to the nation because it is its capital city, where the king is enthroned. The calves are at Dan and Bethel, though it is possible there were multiple calves.

God’s anger burns against the idols. It is the work of human hands—Israelite artisans made it. The idol is not Yahweh; it is not Elohim. Rather than the work of God or representing Yahweh, the calves are headed to destruction, just as Israel itself is because of its idolatry.

The Futility of Egypt and Assyria (Hosea 8:7-14)

Hosea introduces a new metaphor—agriculture. Israel has sown what they did not want to reap. They thought they would sow prosperity but what they got was devastation. What they sow will not produce edible grain—there will be nothing to eat. Rather, it will reap the presence of foreigners (strangers) will devour the resources of the nation. Israel will be swallowed up, scattered among the nations, and will become a useless vessel. Literally, the Hebrew reads, “a vessel no one desires.”

Then Hosea switches metaphors to make his point. Ephraim has bargained for lovers, but what she became was a “wild ass wandering alone” when she appealed to Assyria into stave off her destruction. She tried to make a deal, but her attempts were laughable. Israel was out of her element, like a” wild ass wandering alone.” She has no recourse or resources.  Israel’s attempts at diplomacy will fail miserably. Instead of independence, they will live under the oppressive rule of Assyrian kings and princes.

Hosea continues his sarcasm by returning to the calves—the altars where Israel sought to expiate their sin. But those altars where themselves sinful. No expiation was possible there even if they offer their sacrifices to Yahweh and eat them before the Lord. Yahweh does not accept them. They do not follow the Torah, and therefore they are not accepted. Their sacrifices are “strange” things just as the strangers who devour their nation (same Hebrew root for “strange” and “stranger”).

In contrast to the promise of Jeremiah 31:31-34 and the revelation of Yahweh in Exodus 34:6-7, Yahweh will remember their iniquity rather than forgiving it. God will punish their sins and return them to Egypt.

The return to Egypt is not a prophecy for exile in Egypt instead of Assyria. Rather, it plays on the calf-motif where at Mt. Sinai they created an idol and dreamed of a return to Egypt. The return to Egypt is a metaphor for a return to enslavement or exile. Israel is right back where they started, and their idolatrous calves are part of the reason. Hosea 8:14 brings Israel (the northern kingdom) and Judah (the southern kingdom) into view. Both are guilty, and both will suffer the consequences.

Israel will suffer because she has “forgotten” her creator and built palaces. This hints at the economic injustice of the northern kingdom (see Amos, for example). Instead of caring for the people of Yahweh, rulers built palaces for their own glory.

Judah will suffer because she “multiplied fortified cities.” This military buildup reflected a lack of faith in Yahweh’s protection. They increased fortifications just as Ephraim increased altars (Hosea 8:11—same Hebrew word).

The consequence is that neither these buildings (like palaces) nor these cities (fortified) will survive. They are symbols of covenant-breaking and rebellion against God, and therefore they will be destroyed.

Israel is consumed by her own devices. They has made her bed, and now she must iie in it.  Yahweh will remember her sins.

Yahweh yearns to restore the fortunes of Israel, but Israel would not. Their evil, corruption, pride, rebellion, and political alliances hardened their hearts so that they did not seek God’s face. None called on Yahweh. Consequently, their self-destructive cycle, stoked like a hot oven by their greed and pride, played itself out on the world stage. Their internal political chaos destroyed them from within. Ultimately, their political intrigues trapped them like a bird and left them homeless. God would have healed them, but they would not. Rather than they living peacefully in the Eden God gave them in covenant with Yahweh, they returned—metaphorically—to Egypt.

I Would Restore Them But They Would Not (6:13-7:10)

The opening lines of this section are ominous.

• When I would have restored the fortunes of my people. . .
• When I would have healed Israel . . .

Instead, the corruption of Ephraim and the wicked deeds of Samaria are uncovered and made public. [Samaria is the capital of the northern kingdom.] It is also the word for exile, that is, to be removed. God wants to restore, but the evil is too great. The more specific reason is: (1) they do not act with integrity (they lie, שָׁ֑קֶר); (2) they are thieves (stealing from others out of greed), and (3) they raid the people like a group/army of bandits (raiding parties, probably filled with violence; a marauding band as in Hosea 6:9). It is for this reason (“for” or “because” in Hosea 7:1) that restoration and healing is not available for Israel, though God desires it.

This somber judgment does not affect Israel’s thinking. It does not occur to them to say (“consider” in NRSV), “Yahweh remembers our wickedness.”  This memory is not simply an accounting of past facts or deeds, but it is remembering in the sense of holding accountable. Rather than forgetting or overlooking their evil, their deeds are “before the face” of Yahweh. Israel has not “taken to heart” (לִלְבָבָ֔ם) Yahweh’s memory. Consequently, their deeds overcome (“surround”) them, and they are brought before Yahweh for discipline and judgment.

In Hosea 7:3-7 the prophet names some of the consequences of Israel’s sin. A major part of this is the nation’s internal political chaos. “All their kings have fallen,” Hosea says. This probably refers to the assassination of four of Israel’s last five kings (namely, Zechariah [748 BCE], Shallum [748 BCE], Pekahiah [735 BCE], and Pekah [733 BCE]). It was a time of intense instability and political chaos. And this chaos involved not only the internal intrigues but also international alliances (which is named in the following section).

The participants in this chaos are called “adulterers,” which refers to their covenant disloyalty to Yahweh and probably some form of idolatry as well as moral vicissitudes. Primarily, however, the effect or consequence is political chaos and national instability at the very time the nation is threatened by empires to the north and south, Assyria and Egypt. Perhaps “adulterers” refers to the plotters themselves who seek to use their political assets for their own gain.

The primary metaphor comes from making bread, which is a daily occurrence in ancient Israel. Women would spend much of their morning—two to three hours or more—making bread for their daily meals, often in community with other women (much like a sewing group). This is a metaphor everyone would understand in Israel, though it may be lost somewhat on modern people who do not typically make their own bread (at least in the West).

The process of kneading dough, leavening it, and baking it is a metaphor for the process of political destabilization. Bakers don’t want the oven too hot, but they needed it heated sufficiently. They must keep the fire going. Perhaps the political instigators are like bakers who are preparing the dough and keeping things hot until the moment to bake and complete the task. Plots take time, but they depend on heat.

The picture offered in Hosea 7:5 is uncertain. We don’t know enough about the context or the metaphors to have much certainty here. It does seem, however, that there is a potential feasting of bread and wine on the part of kings and officials (princes), and perhaps even they sought accommodations with others. (“stretched out his hand”). The mockers are probably other officials—people who might have a say in their plots and intrigues out of the nation’s political or ruling class.

But the heat of the oven, which represents the anger present in the nation, bursts into flame and devours the rulers (literally, judges). Hence, “all their kings have fallen.” The oven symbolizes the caldron where anger and greed boil over, and this ends in a coup and the death of the king.

“None of them calls upon me,” Yahweh says.  Yahweh would restore them, but no one asks, no one seeks God’s face.

Israel Relies on the Nations (7:8-16)

Ephraim is a “half-baked cake.” Its problem was not only its own internal squabbles but also its mixing with the nations (“peoples”). The cake is not edible because of its own chaos and because of its international relations. Hosea, more than likely, primarily has in mind Assyria and Egypt, though it could include alliances with Aram (Syria) and perhaps even Judah (though “foreigners” would not apply to Judah in Hosea 7:9).

Israel did not realize the implications of its international politics. The foreigners (literally, strangers) ate their strength. Perhaps they ate Israel’s grain, but it seems more likely that this came in the form of tribute to Assyria or Egypt. Their international alliances drained their economy and weakened Israel. It made them weak, old, and near death (“gray hair”). But Israel did not realize what they were doing to themselves. It was a form of self-destruction, and they did not recognize it until it was too late.

As Hosea stated earlier (Hosea 5:5), pride is a key failing of Israel’s leadership. It is a word that describes glory and majesty—in a negative sense, pride. Israel thought it could handle its future through alliances when they should have turned to Yahweh as their God who could protect the nation and give them life. They neither returned to God nor sought him. Now, as a result, their gray hairs testify to their coming death.

While baking in a hot oven was the metaphor for internal political intrigue, the metaphor for international alliances is a caged or captured bird. Israel is like a dove—a naïve animal, easily trapped, and Israel is like birds (perhaps a reference to doves again) caught in a net. The point is sobering. When Israel seeks political alliances by calling on Egypt and Assyria, they are naively setting themselves up for a trap, and when that trap springs, destruction awaits them. And this is the Lord’s discipline or chastisement, or instruction. [This is made public in an assembly—perhaps a ratification or covenantal ceremony; or perhaps the audience to which Hosea preaches?]

Yahweh reiterates the desire to redeem Israel, but their lies and rebellion make it impossible in the moment. So, Hosea 7:13 is a judgment oracle: “Woe to them!” Israel has lost its way and like sheep have strayed from their shepherd. They have wandered away to Egypt and Assyria rather than trusting in Yahweh.

Their history with Yahweh should have instructed them. It was Yahweh who brought them up out of Egypt, gave them the land, and formed a nation—Yahweh “trained and strengthened their arms.” But instead, they seek grain and wine from other resources (whether idolatry as Hosea 2:5, 8 or international favor). This is a heart problem—instead of crying out to God from their hearts (literally, in their hearts, בְּלִבָּ֔ם), they grieve and moan on their beds. Instead of acting on their faith in Yahweh, they seek comfort in their beds where they wail and moan. They live in despair rather than turning to Yahweh.

Israel made the wrong choice. They sought profit where there was none. They are a broken people without power, like a defective bow. They are at the mercy of their enemies. So, their princes or leaders fall by the sword. Their rage and insolence brought them destruction rather than restoration. Their wailing ends up a “babbling” or mocking, a derision.

The location of this “babbling” is “in the land of Egypt.”  This is rather curious because Israel ends up in Assyrian exile, not Egyptian. Most likely, this is a biting allusion to Israel’s first captivity—their bondage in Egypt. Instead of being liberated from their enslavement as happened in Egypt, they will be enslaved again—though this time in Assyria. It is a metaphor for Israel’s reversal of fortune. Once they were liberated from Egypt, now they will be enslaved again. God would restore their fortune—liberate them from Egypt once again, but Israel would not—and so they, metaphorically, return to Egypt once again.

Israel lost their opportunity because of their pride, rebellion, and greed. God would have but they would not.

Hosea, the prophet who functions as a prosecutor, announced God’s judicial verdict in the previous chapter. Yet Hosea still holds out hope if Israel will seek God’s face (Hosea 5:15). Will Ephraim repent? Will they return to the Lord? Will they seek God’s path rather than their own? Hosea 6 opens the door, but Israel’s previous path has hardened their hearts and dimmed their hope. At bottom, they are people more interested in their rituals rather than seeking God; more interested in sacrifices and burnt offerings than mercy and intimacy with God; more interested in the form than the meaning. As Jesus said, “Go and learn what this means,” quoting Hosea 6:6.

The People Speak: An Invitation (Hosea 6:1-3)

There is hope! There is an invitation! This is true despite the verdict rendered in Hosea 5.

“Come, let us return to the Lord” is the invitation. Just as Yahweh returned to the divine abode in Hosea 2:15, Israel is invited to return to God.

Such a return involves “knowing” God. Again, this knowledge is not primarily cognitive, though it does not exclude that. Rather, it is about intimacy with God along the analogy of a marriage or betrothal as earlier in Hosea 1-3. To return to God is to know God, that is, to renew covenant and relationship with God.

Healing, binding up wounds, and revival is the hope. Though Israel was suffered judgment—they have been torn, struck down, and killed—there is hope for healing and revival. These wounds were named along with an incipient hope in Hosea 2:13-15. The response is that healing is available if the people return to the Lord. Indeed, Israel is assured of this healing just like they anticipate the dawn or spring rains that enable agriculture in Israel.

This revival is pictured as a renewal of health or life itself. Hosea 6:2 has been read by early Christians as a picture of the resurrection of the Messiah. Some early Jewish Targums connected with an eschatological resurrection.

The revival is parallel with the “healing” and “binding up” in Hosea 6:1. It may refer to a recovery from an illness (like Hezekiah going up on the third day to the temple upon his healing in 2 Kings 20). At the same time, it may refer to the death (metaphorically) of Israel and the hope of the resurrection of the nation. The early creed that Paul recites in 1 Corinthians 15:3-4 may have Hosea 6:2 in mind as it identifies the “third day” according to the Scriptures.

It seems to me that Hosea has the resurrection of Israel in mind, much like Ezekiel 37 (can these dry bones live?). Hosea 2 has promised a renewal for Israel, a remarriage. This is pictured as a resurrection, a coming back to life. This, then, also serves the theological trajectory of the resurrection of the Messiah who is the redeemer of Israel. While Hosea does not have the Messiah in mind, the theological meaning of the text includes the future resurrection of the Messiah who represents Israel and gives life to Israel.

Yahweh Explains: The Primary Problem (Hosea 6:4-6)

God’s response seems rather harsh, even heartless. Will God receive this repentance and fulfill the hopeful expectations of Israel?

But it is not heartless because one hears to deep yearning for Israel and the lament for their status in the opening words. “What shall I do with you?”  The tone is important. Is it angry, or is disheartening, disappointing.  I think the latter.  God would love to embrace Israel and wants to do so, but Israel’s heart is not in it. They may approach God in the forms (sacrifices) but they do not approach God with God’s own heart beating in their chest.

Yahweh’s disappointment is the temporary nature of Israel’s seeking. Their steadfast love (hesed) is like a morning midst. It is there for a time but disappears. They do not live life with hesed.

The prophets have “killed” them with God’s words (thus resurrection in 6:2)—they have prosecuted and convicted Israel time and time again. God’s judgment is righteous and just—it is like light in the darkness.

What is Israel’s fundamental problem? Hosea 6:6—one of the most important texts in Hosea—provides the answer. They approach God with sacrifices and burnt offerings, but their lives do not exhibit hesed (mercy, steadfast love), and they do not know God (no intimacy with God). If they knew God, they would act like God.

If they were in authentic relationship with God, they would reflect God’s values—God’s hesed—in their own lives. Instead, as we will see later in Hosea, they live lives of greed, theft, and violence. Hosea’s point, then, is that God continues to reject Israel because they don’t love mercy; they don’t have the heart of God.  They have their forms and public shows, but they do not know what it means to live life with God.

The importance of Hosea 6:6 is illustrated by Jesus himself. According to Matthew, Jesus quotes this text twice in Matthew 9:13 and Matthew 12:7.  In both instances Jesus is confronting Pharisees for their lack of mercy or steadfast love. In the first case it is there inhospitable dealings with “sinners.” In the second case it is their exaltation of the technicalities of the law over mercy.

Both times Jesus tells them this is about what God “means” in Hosea 6:6. If they had understood its meaning, they would not have questioned Jesus’s practices nor condemned those who participated. “Go and learn what this means” (Matthew 9:13), and “If you had known what this means” (Matthew 12:7).

How we read the Bible matters greatly. Do we read it through a lens of mercy or hesed, or do we read it through a lens of legal technicalities? Jesus said, “if you had known what this means. . .” How do we read? (Luke 10:26).

To love mercy (Micah 6:8; hesed) goes to the heart of the law—and, more fundamentally, the heart of God.

Yahweh Describes: Israel’s Sins (Hosea 6:7-11a)

The description of Israel in these verses is horrific; God has seen a “horrible thing” in Israel. They . . .

• transgress the covenant
• deal treacherously with Yahweh
• filled with evildoers
• tracking blood throughout the land
• thieves wait to pounce
• murderers, even priests, abound
• adulterous life (idolatry)

Consequently, “Israel is defiled.” There may be a specific religio-political reality to these verses. Perhaps it refers to the time of political intrigue since Israel had a series of assassinations in its closing history. It may reflect the chaos of those last decades of the nation. We don’t know the details, but we know the effect—horrible and defiling behavior on the part of the Israel.

There is a translation question regarding the word Adam (Hebrew: keadam, כְּאָדָ֖ם). Should it be translated “at Adam” (a geographical location named in Joshua 3:16) or “like Adam” (the Adam in the Garden of Eden). Some favor the former because place names abound in this section. It is in parallel with something that happened in Gilead as well as on the road to Shechem. This is also supported by the use of “there” as a geographical locater.  Also, Adam is located on the east bank of the Jordan where Gilead is also located. That association seems to confirm the parallelism. However, some think this refers to Adam in the Genesis story. That is possible, but it seems more likely that this is geography rather than an allusion to Genesis.

Whatever may be the case with the use of the word “Adam,” the point is fairly straightforward. Israel has demonstrated its lack of hesed by the way it has lived as covenant-breakers. The heart of Israel is filled with greed and violence rather than the hesed of God.

At the end of this message, Hosea surprisingly addresses Judah. It seems this is a warning to Judah. They will experience a similar harvest if they do not keep hesed at the heart of their relationship with God and others.