A new connection
Commentary
As a very young and inexperienced pastor (many years ago), Bob made a terrible mistake. After he had officiated at his very first wedding, he entirely forgot about the certificate of marriage, the wedding license. The newly-married couple sped off on their honeymoon; the best man and bridesmaid of honor returned to their distant homes. In those days in America, young couples might be asked for proof of their marriage when they registered for a hotel room. (My, how things have changed!) Had that happened to these newlyweds, they would have been in deep trouble. Fortunately, however, they were not asked to show evidence of their marriage, and eventually the whole matter was cleared up, although Bob's dignity was seriously bruised!
The certificate of marriage (and even the more secular marriage license) is an important document insofar as it formalizes a new relationship and witnesses to the connection between a couple. In a marriage of two people, a unique connection comes into being. It is as if a third entity emerges into being where there had been only two. The individual entities of the two people remain intact, but their relationship with one another becomes a new and third reality. This creation of a new connection between two people is, of course, not limited to marriage. The same thing occurs when two people become intimate friends. Their individualities merge to create a novel relationship. What is important is this new connection fashioned out of two separate identities.
Our three passages this Sunday all have to do with the new connection God forms with humans in Christ. Like a marriage or a close relationship, the identities of God and humanity remain intact, but something new comes into existence. In our lessons there are two different metaphors used to speak of this new relationship or connection with God. The first is that of a marriage, and it appears in both the First and Gospel lessons. Paul uses a different metaphor, namely, that of a letter of recommendation. It is important for the preacher to understand that these are metaphors to speak of that mysterious association formed between us and God in Christ. If the marriage metaphor sounds sexist to us today, it is simply that it was fashioned in a day when the relationship between male and female was differently conceived. At least in the minds and hearts of some people, the metaphor of marriage may not work as well today as it once did. Nonetheless that new reality of connectedness to which it points is the same.
In many ways this topic of a new connection is fundamental to the whole of the Christian faith. Being connected with God is the most significant result of what God chose to do for humanity in Christ, so it merits our special attention on this Eighth Sunday After the Epiphany.
Hosea 2:14-20
The metaphor of marriage forms the foundation of the first major part of Hosea (chapters 1-3) and is the topic of a good deal of scholarly discussion. What is important about it for us preachers is the simple fact that these chapters are a sustained discussion of the relationship God has created with Israel, spoken of as a marriage. To be sure, the understanding of marriage from which the prophet draws this metaphor assumes male superiority over women and implies that in marriage a woman becomes the property of the husband. Yet the relationship Hosea speaks of through this metaphor is as important today as it was in the prophet's own day.
The whole section, verses 2-23, is a kind of allegory for God's relationship with sinful Israel. In this poetic narrative, in which the husband is a symbol for Yahweh and the woman a symbol for Israel, God declares the divine determination to bring the estranged wife (presumably Gomer, named in 1:3) back into the bond of marriage. Verses 14-15 describe how God will win back Israel's love and faithfulness and connect the people once again with their Creator. Verses 16-20 speak of the nature of that time when the two are rejoined in a new association.
In the first two verses, it sounds like Yahweh is trying to woo Israel. God has to win the people back into the relationship they had during the time of Israel's wilderness trek. So, God is attempting to make things like they were when Israel was first brought into covenant with Yahweh. The strategy is like that of courting another. God will give Israel gifts to lure them back into the marriage. From another perspective, the metaphor works like that of one party in a marriage trying to restore the romance and love the couple had in the early years of their relationship. The vineyards are like the roses and candlelight dinner. "[T]he Valley of Achor, a door of hope" refers to the pathway into the promised land of Canaan. God will once again provide a new land and a new hope to estranged Israel. The image pictures the depth of God's commitment to humanity.
When the relationship has been restored and the connection reestablished, everything will change. It will be a new day (vv. 16-20). This restored association comes into being by means of renaming it. When two people become intimate friends, they may begin to refer to one another with terms of endearment, such as nicknames. When God has brought humanity back into relationship with our creator, the language for God changes. In the metaphor, Israel will then speak of their God as their husband. "Baal" means "lord" and referred to the male deity in the Canaanite fertility religion which deeply influenced the Hebrew people (see Numbers 25:1-9 and Deuteronomy 4:3). The point here is that "husband" is far more personal and intimate than Baal.
This restoration of the connection between God and Israel marks a new day and a fresh age (v. 18). The covenant with Israel radically altered the whole of the relationships within creation. So, our associations with nature are different and our relationships with one another will be transformed. All of this results in "safety."
The reading concludes with the first marriage vow of a Hebraic wedding: "I will take you for my wife...." The vow is repeated three times in verses 19-20, each time pledging one feature of a true marriage. The relationship is forever; it is a relationship of righteousness, justice, steadfast love (the Hebrew hesed), and mercy; and it is a faithful relationship. Most importantly, in this new connection with God the people will "know the Lord." Of course, the character of this knowing is not purely intellectual. It is not that Israel will finally get its theology straightened out. The Hebrew verb "to know" is often used to describe an intimate relationship. (Remember the way in which the word is used on some occasions for sexual intercourse, for instance, Genesis 4:1.) The prophet supposes that the new connection with God entails a closeness that is best compared with the intimacy of a true and faithful marriage.
It's a matter of getting connected. But not connected in just any old way. Rather, the connection is like a marriage or a close relationship with a friend. It's that kind of connection God seeks with us and which is the goal of the divine strategy we find sketched in the Bible.
2 Corinthians 3:1-6
If the metaphor of a marriage does not work for you, if marriage is not the best way for you to imagine this connectedness with God, how about another kind of metaphor? One that is entirely different and not dependent on a social understanding of marriage. Paul seems to suggest that this new connection is like the results of a letter of recommendation. We might think of the letters of reference written in our behalf when we go for a job interview.
The reading is pulled out of those early chapters in 2 Corinthians in which Paul is trying to restore his relationship with the Christian church in Corinth. As we have said with regard to the previous readings from 2 Corinthians, the Corinthians seem to have come to mistrust Paul and his colleagues. The connection between them has been broken, and Paul is trying to reconnect with the congregations. Letters of recommendation were common in the social realm of the Greco-Roman world, and we know that the early Christian missionaries employed such letters to give them entree into a village or a church. Romans 16 may be just such a letter (see also Acts 18:27).
The strained relationship with his readers is evident in Paul's first sentence in the lesson. He anticipates the possibility that his readers will respond to what he has just said with something like this: "Oh, there he goes again -- bragging about himself!" Paul's response is, "Surely, we have gotten beyond the stage of our needing letters of recommendation!" He says in effect that the readers should not need others to testify to the authenticity of Paul's ministry. At verse 2 he begins to use the letter of recommendation in a metaphorical way. Your experience with us, he claims, writes our recommendation on your lives. However, the metaphor gets a bit confused at this point. He first says that the missionaries' letter of recommendation is written on their hearts (v. 2) and then that Christ has written such letters on the hearts of the Corinthian Christians (v. 3). The point is that the recommendation is not in physically written form but in the form of experience and character. So, it is not written on paper ("stone tablets") but in personalities ("tablets of human hearts"). The point seems to be that the readers' connection with Christ is all the recommendation they will ever need.
In the final verses, Paul picks up the theme of confidence and competency. The issue is implied in what he has just said in 2:14-17 and to which he imagines the Corinthians might respond with distrust (v. 1). We are not surprised by what the Apostle says here. The competency of Paul and his colleagues comes from God and not from themselves. The English translation makes it appear that he picks up the first theme of written letters in the final sentences of the passage. However, "the letter" here translates a different Greek word than was used in the previous verses of the lesson and seems to refer to the Law. Still, the Spirit that "gives life" is the same Spirit who is written on the hearts of the believers.
Perhaps Paul's metaphor is less clear than Hosea's, but it fleshes out the idea of being connected. The lesson suggests that connections with other people are related to being connected with God in Christ through the Spirit. Paul's point seems to be that if he and his colleagues as well as the Corinthian Christians are mutually connected with Christ, then they ought to be connected with one another. This relationship of mistrust and suspicion is unnecessary where the Spirit has written its letter on our hearts. Such strained relationships with other Christians make us take a look at our relationship with God.
Mark 2:13-22
This marvelous Gospel reading takes us off in still another direction. It takes us back into those early chapters in Mark and offers a reading that is really the combination of three related but quite independent pieces. The first two pieces are each a conflict story. Jesus clashes with the religious leaders of his day, first, over his associations with unseemly characters (vv. 13-17) and, second, over the matter of fasting (vv. 18-20). The conflict stories tend to be told in a certain pattern, as do the healing stories. In the case of altercations with opponents, the simple stories most often conclude with a pithy saying in which Jesus settles the matter in a few words. In the case of the difference over fasting, Mark has attached to the concluding saying two tiny parables about the relationship of the new and the old (vv. 21-22). Taken as a whole, this reading leads us into that new day Hosea mentioned. It is a new era in which the connection with God is entirely different and far more direct.
Jesus shocks the socks off of the religious leaders by inviting a despised and ostracized collector of taxes to become one of his disciples. He only makes matters worse when he then dines with Levi and his friends (other tax collectors and "sinners"). Peeking in the window, the scribes and Pharisees are insulted by what they see. We need to get the picture straight. These tax collectors and so-called sinners are the ancient counterparts of the drug dealers and pimps of today -- regarded as the lowest and most vile of persons. The tax collectors dirtied themselves by handling Gentile coinage and isolated themselves by supporting the oppressive tax system of the day and Roman oppression in general. "Sinners" is a broad category that includes anyone who is thought to be a criminal (e.g., an ex-con) as well as all those who did not meticulously practice ritual purity. From the perspective of the devout and zealous of the day, that meant that most of the common people were numbered among the "sinners," since they were preoccupied with matters of making a daily living and had little, if any, time for all of the purity regulations.
Jesus' associations with such indecent people (from the perspective of the religious establishment) is degenerate too because he eats with them. In the Jewish society of the day, eating entailed a degree of intimacy greater than our customs. We might have a casual dinner with most anyone without thought. However, the religious taboos in place in Jesus' time involved the idea that eating with another exposed you to the character of that person. It is as if the sinners had a disease that was contagious and could easily be communicated in the process of sharing food.
Jesus defends his association with such people in a simple saying: "These are the people who need help." His mission is to connect the outsiders with the reign of God, not to minister to those who were already connected. This is actually an implicit affirmation of the righteousness of the Pharisees, since they seem to be ones in this saying who have no need of a physician (although that proves obviously not to be the case). We are given to believe that this curt saying silenced the religious officials and sent them off trying to figure out just what Jesus had meant.
Following on the tail of the conflict over Jesus' hobnobbing with the scum of society comes the second clash. In this case, the clash is not so severe. Some "people" ask a simple and direct question of Jesus. We are to presume that there is nothing sinister in their question; their question is not intended to trap Jesus. Imagine, instead, a Baptist asking a Lutheran why Lutherans baptize infants. It is important to note, however, that both the Pharisees and the disciples of John the Baptist practiced fasting. Jesus had associated himself with John's ministry by asking to be baptized by the wilderness preacher (1:9).
Fasting was a regular discipline in Judaism, dating far back in their history. To fast was to admit your need and unworthiness before God. At least once a year, faithful Jews were supposed to fast (e.g., Leviticus 16:29), and fasting on special occasions was also probably common in Jesus' day (e.g., Ezra 8:21-23). Many scholars see in this story the church's justification for continuing the practice of fasting.
Jesus' response to the people's question is garbed in a marriage metaphor. There are times to fast and times to celebrate. You don't fast at a wedding. On the contrary, you eat a plentiful meal and drink more than you should. However, neither do you hold a joyful celebration at a wake. As long as Jesus ("the bridegroom") is with his disciples, they rejoice. When he is gone, then the fasting will begin.
The final segment of the lesson is another pair of metaphorical sayings, each of which suggests the radical newness of the era ushered in by Jesus' ministry. It does no good to patch up the old garment with a new piece of cloth. Nor does it make sense to try to use old wineskins for new wine. Here we have a remarkably concise insight into Jesus' understanding of his ministry. He is not about the process of trying to repair the old machinery of Judaism, simply tinkering with what is already in place. That won't work. What he begins is a totally new era in which God's presence in the world is direct and immediate. It is a new wine that needs a new container.
The new wine is an image of the new connection between God and humanity. In Christ God makes a new connection (a new covenant) with the creation. It is not that we try harder and get tuned into the right frequency so that we finally have a good connection with God. God connects with us by the immediacy of the divine presence in Christ. With the connection comes the birth of a new relationship: God, humans, and now the reality of the relationship between humans and God. This is the day Hosea promised would come, when God would lure humans back into relationship with God's self. This is the day when the Spirit writes letters on our heart, just as Paul supposed. Being connected with God entails God's successful wooing of the beloved into relationship.
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
Hosea 2:14-20
Hosea could very well be called "the prophet of intimacy" -- of intimacy with God. Hosea's ministry took place in northern Israel during the early days of the kingship of Jeroboam II (786-746 B.C.). And when he characterizes for his compatriots the relationship they are to have with their Lord, Hosea uses two figures of speech. First of all, Israel's relation to her God is to be like that of a faithful wife with her husband. The Lord "wed" his bride Israel in the desert (13:5), providing for her every need like a loving husband for his wife (cf. 2:8), and for his love he asked that Israel love him in return, with all her heart, in faithfulness and righteousness. Second, however, the prophet changes metaphors to characterize Israel's relation with God as that of an obedient and loving son to his father. When God delivered Israel out of bondage from the land of Egypt, he adopted Israel as his son, teaching the infant how to walk, lifting him up in his arms, showering upon him the love of a father for his firstborn child (cf. 11:1-4). And God the Father expected his son to love him in return, with steadfast devotion.
We can see from the use of such metaphors to characterize the relation with God that the message of Hosea and of the Old Testament is far from that legalism often ascribed to the Book of the Old Covenant. Hosea is speaking in terms of the deepest and most heartfelt devotion. And indeed, the entire Bible calls for us to have such an intimate relation with our Lord. In some portions of the New Testament, Jesus is metaphorically termed the bridegroom of the church (Mark 2:19 and parallel). In others, we members of the church are the sons and daughters whom God has adopted into his family (Galatians 4:4-7). Throughout the sacred story, God asks of us the most intimate and heartfelt love in return for his love. "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might" (Deuteronomy 6:5; Mark 12:30). That is the greatest commandment.
As is so often true of us, however, Israel in Hosea's time is neither a faithful wife nor an obedient son to God. The metaphor that predominates in the first three chapters of the prophet's book is that of marriage, and instead of being a faithful wife, Israel has been a whore. She has given herself to other lovers, that is, to other gods and goddesses, whom she thinks can furnish her with the good things of life. The result is that God is portrayed in Hosea as divorcing his unfaithful wife (1:9; 2:2), to leave her to her own devices and to fall victim to the onslaught of the Assyrian Empire. The northern kingdom of Israel was conquered by the forces of Assyria under Sargon II in 721 B.C., her populace was exiled, and the ten tribes that made up northern Israel disappeared forever from history. Hosea does not portray that fall, but he predicts it.
What then? Does God desert his people? Has his love finally had enough of Israel's unfaithful whoredom and abandoned her altogether? That's a burning question for us too, is it not, because what one of us here this morning can claim that we have always been faithful to our Lord? Have we too not gone after other gods, whom we think can furnish us with the good things of life -- after money and financial success, after social status and importance, after glorification of ourselves that we have so euphemistically labeled self-esteem, or indeed, after other gods of sex and power? Just look at the covers of all of the popular magazines as you go through the supermarket line. You can read there what our society and often we are chasing after. Like Israel in the time of Hosea, we have declared, "I will go after other lovers." And so are we in danger of being deserted by our God as Israel in Hosea's time was apparently deserted?
We have to look deeper into the heart of this God portrayed by Hosea to find any answers. And our prophet enables us to do that too. What do we find God doing in the Book of Hosea? We find him weeping: "How can I give you up, O Ephraim? How can I hand you over, O Israel? ... My heart recoils within me, my compassion grows warm and tender" (11:8). And so the promise of our text for the morning is that God will not finally desert his covenant people. No, what he will do is to start his history with Israel all over again. He will woo his bride once more in the wilderness, as he courted her in the beginning, and he will speak tenderly to her heart. The Valley of Trouble (Achor) will be turned into a "door of hope" for his people, and Israel will become his faithful lover as she was in the beginning when the Lord first delivered her out of Egyptian slavery (2:15).
God will betroth Israel to himself, says our text (vv. 19-20). Betrothal in Israel was legally tantamount to marriage, a binding commitment, and as a sign of that commitment, the bridegroom paid a price to the father of the bride. However, Hosea changes that custom to portray God as paying the price to the bride herself. And what will God give to his bride Israel? He will instill in her righteousness and justice, steadfast love and mercy, faithfulness and knowledge of himself in an everlasting covenant (vv. 19-20). The Lord will transform his peoples' hearts and minds, so that they will love him faithfully and forever. He will make them new persons from the inside out. Never again will they go after other gods and goddesses, those hated fertility gods of Canaan called the baals. The name "Baal" will be lost forever from their vocabularly (vv. 16-17). Never again will the land know warfare from its enemies, for the weapons of war will be abolished (v. 18). Indeed, even the fight with nature that threatens the life of Israel will be stilled, and God's people will dwell in security and in peace.
God promises all such good things will come about for his covenant people "in that day" (v. 16). That is a phrase that always signifies in the scripture an unknown time in the future, when God's kingdom will have begun on earth at the end of time and human history. In other words, this promise by God to Israel in the preaching of Hosea is an eschatological promise.
It is a puzzling promise, however, because in the eighth century B.C., northern Israel disappeared into Assyrian exile and has never been heard from again. How can God fulfill a promise to a people who are no more? How can he forgive those who no longer exist?
To answer that, we have to turn to see what the Gospel according to Matthew does with the prophecies of Hosea. Our text from Hosea portrays God beginning his history with his chosen people all over again, and Matthew is convinced that God did that in the life of Jesus. Matthew uses the words of Hosea 11:1 that speak of Israel as God's son, and he applies them to the flight of Joseph and Mary and the infant Jesus to Egypt. Joseph "rose and took the child and his mother by night, and departed to Egypt and remained there until the death of Herod. This was to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet, 'Out of Egypt have I called my son' " (Hosea 11:1; Matthew 2:14-15).
In other words, in our Lord Jesus Christ God begins his history with his covenant people -- with us, his church, his bride, his sons and daughters -- all over again, as he promised he would do in our text for the morning. And through the work and person of Jesus Christ, God can indeed turn all of us into faithful people, transforming us in our hearts and minds by his Spirit until we live with him in righteousness and justice, in steadfast love and mercy. God can make us new persons in Jesus Christ. And by faith in our Lord, we can have a "door of hope"; we can look forward with certainty to his kingdom of peace and safety, when war is no more and his good realm has come on all the earth.
The certificate of marriage (and even the more secular marriage license) is an important document insofar as it formalizes a new relationship and witnesses to the connection between a couple. In a marriage of two people, a unique connection comes into being. It is as if a third entity emerges into being where there had been only two. The individual entities of the two people remain intact, but their relationship with one another becomes a new and third reality. This creation of a new connection between two people is, of course, not limited to marriage. The same thing occurs when two people become intimate friends. Their individualities merge to create a novel relationship. What is important is this new connection fashioned out of two separate identities.
Our three passages this Sunday all have to do with the new connection God forms with humans in Christ. Like a marriage or a close relationship, the identities of God and humanity remain intact, but something new comes into existence. In our lessons there are two different metaphors used to speak of this new relationship or connection with God. The first is that of a marriage, and it appears in both the First and Gospel lessons. Paul uses a different metaphor, namely, that of a letter of recommendation. It is important for the preacher to understand that these are metaphors to speak of that mysterious association formed between us and God in Christ. If the marriage metaphor sounds sexist to us today, it is simply that it was fashioned in a day when the relationship between male and female was differently conceived. At least in the minds and hearts of some people, the metaphor of marriage may not work as well today as it once did. Nonetheless that new reality of connectedness to which it points is the same.
In many ways this topic of a new connection is fundamental to the whole of the Christian faith. Being connected with God is the most significant result of what God chose to do for humanity in Christ, so it merits our special attention on this Eighth Sunday After the Epiphany.
Hosea 2:14-20
The metaphor of marriage forms the foundation of the first major part of Hosea (chapters 1-3) and is the topic of a good deal of scholarly discussion. What is important about it for us preachers is the simple fact that these chapters are a sustained discussion of the relationship God has created with Israel, spoken of as a marriage. To be sure, the understanding of marriage from which the prophet draws this metaphor assumes male superiority over women and implies that in marriage a woman becomes the property of the husband. Yet the relationship Hosea speaks of through this metaphor is as important today as it was in the prophet's own day.
The whole section, verses 2-23, is a kind of allegory for God's relationship with sinful Israel. In this poetic narrative, in which the husband is a symbol for Yahweh and the woman a symbol for Israel, God declares the divine determination to bring the estranged wife (presumably Gomer, named in 1:3) back into the bond of marriage. Verses 14-15 describe how God will win back Israel's love and faithfulness and connect the people once again with their Creator. Verses 16-20 speak of the nature of that time when the two are rejoined in a new association.
In the first two verses, it sounds like Yahweh is trying to woo Israel. God has to win the people back into the relationship they had during the time of Israel's wilderness trek. So, God is attempting to make things like they were when Israel was first brought into covenant with Yahweh. The strategy is like that of courting another. God will give Israel gifts to lure them back into the marriage. From another perspective, the metaphor works like that of one party in a marriage trying to restore the romance and love the couple had in the early years of their relationship. The vineyards are like the roses and candlelight dinner. "[T]he Valley of Achor, a door of hope" refers to the pathway into the promised land of Canaan. God will once again provide a new land and a new hope to estranged Israel. The image pictures the depth of God's commitment to humanity.
When the relationship has been restored and the connection reestablished, everything will change. It will be a new day (vv. 16-20). This restored association comes into being by means of renaming it. When two people become intimate friends, they may begin to refer to one another with terms of endearment, such as nicknames. When God has brought humanity back into relationship with our creator, the language for God changes. In the metaphor, Israel will then speak of their God as their husband. "Baal" means "lord" and referred to the male deity in the Canaanite fertility religion which deeply influenced the Hebrew people (see Numbers 25:1-9 and Deuteronomy 4:3). The point here is that "husband" is far more personal and intimate than Baal.
This restoration of the connection between God and Israel marks a new day and a fresh age (v. 18). The covenant with Israel radically altered the whole of the relationships within creation. So, our associations with nature are different and our relationships with one another will be transformed. All of this results in "safety."
The reading concludes with the first marriage vow of a Hebraic wedding: "I will take you for my wife...." The vow is repeated three times in verses 19-20, each time pledging one feature of a true marriage. The relationship is forever; it is a relationship of righteousness, justice, steadfast love (the Hebrew hesed), and mercy; and it is a faithful relationship. Most importantly, in this new connection with God the people will "know the Lord." Of course, the character of this knowing is not purely intellectual. It is not that Israel will finally get its theology straightened out. The Hebrew verb "to know" is often used to describe an intimate relationship. (Remember the way in which the word is used on some occasions for sexual intercourse, for instance, Genesis 4:1.) The prophet supposes that the new connection with God entails a closeness that is best compared with the intimacy of a true and faithful marriage.
It's a matter of getting connected. But not connected in just any old way. Rather, the connection is like a marriage or a close relationship with a friend. It's that kind of connection God seeks with us and which is the goal of the divine strategy we find sketched in the Bible.
2 Corinthians 3:1-6
If the metaphor of a marriage does not work for you, if marriage is not the best way for you to imagine this connectedness with God, how about another kind of metaphor? One that is entirely different and not dependent on a social understanding of marriage. Paul seems to suggest that this new connection is like the results of a letter of recommendation. We might think of the letters of reference written in our behalf when we go for a job interview.
The reading is pulled out of those early chapters in 2 Corinthians in which Paul is trying to restore his relationship with the Christian church in Corinth. As we have said with regard to the previous readings from 2 Corinthians, the Corinthians seem to have come to mistrust Paul and his colleagues. The connection between them has been broken, and Paul is trying to reconnect with the congregations. Letters of recommendation were common in the social realm of the Greco-Roman world, and we know that the early Christian missionaries employed such letters to give them entree into a village or a church. Romans 16 may be just such a letter (see also Acts 18:27).
The strained relationship with his readers is evident in Paul's first sentence in the lesson. He anticipates the possibility that his readers will respond to what he has just said with something like this: "Oh, there he goes again -- bragging about himself!" Paul's response is, "Surely, we have gotten beyond the stage of our needing letters of recommendation!" He says in effect that the readers should not need others to testify to the authenticity of Paul's ministry. At verse 2 he begins to use the letter of recommendation in a metaphorical way. Your experience with us, he claims, writes our recommendation on your lives. However, the metaphor gets a bit confused at this point. He first says that the missionaries' letter of recommendation is written on their hearts (v. 2) and then that Christ has written such letters on the hearts of the Corinthian Christians (v. 3). The point is that the recommendation is not in physically written form but in the form of experience and character. So, it is not written on paper ("stone tablets") but in personalities ("tablets of human hearts"). The point seems to be that the readers' connection with Christ is all the recommendation they will ever need.
In the final verses, Paul picks up the theme of confidence and competency. The issue is implied in what he has just said in 2:14-17 and to which he imagines the Corinthians might respond with distrust (v. 1). We are not surprised by what the Apostle says here. The competency of Paul and his colleagues comes from God and not from themselves. The English translation makes it appear that he picks up the first theme of written letters in the final sentences of the passage. However, "the letter" here translates a different Greek word than was used in the previous verses of the lesson and seems to refer to the Law. Still, the Spirit that "gives life" is the same Spirit who is written on the hearts of the believers.
Perhaps Paul's metaphor is less clear than Hosea's, but it fleshes out the idea of being connected. The lesson suggests that connections with other people are related to being connected with God in Christ through the Spirit. Paul's point seems to be that if he and his colleagues as well as the Corinthian Christians are mutually connected with Christ, then they ought to be connected with one another. This relationship of mistrust and suspicion is unnecessary where the Spirit has written its letter on our hearts. Such strained relationships with other Christians make us take a look at our relationship with God.
Mark 2:13-22
This marvelous Gospel reading takes us off in still another direction. It takes us back into those early chapters in Mark and offers a reading that is really the combination of three related but quite independent pieces. The first two pieces are each a conflict story. Jesus clashes with the religious leaders of his day, first, over his associations with unseemly characters (vv. 13-17) and, second, over the matter of fasting (vv. 18-20). The conflict stories tend to be told in a certain pattern, as do the healing stories. In the case of altercations with opponents, the simple stories most often conclude with a pithy saying in which Jesus settles the matter in a few words. In the case of the difference over fasting, Mark has attached to the concluding saying two tiny parables about the relationship of the new and the old (vv. 21-22). Taken as a whole, this reading leads us into that new day Hosea mentioned. It is a new era in which the connection with God is entirely different and far more direct.
Jesus shocks the socks off of the religious leaders by inviting a despised and ostracized collector of taxes to become one of his disciples. He only makes matters worse when he then dines with Levi and his friends (other tax collectors and "sinners"). Peeking in the window, the scribes and Pharisees are insulted by what they see. We need to get the picture straight. These tax collectors and so-called sinners are the ancient counterparts of the drug dealers and pimps of today -- regarded as the lowest and most vile of persons. The tax collectors dirtied themselves by handling Gentile coinage and isolated themselves by supporting the oppressive tax system of the day and Roman oppression in general. "Sinners" is a broad category that includes anyone who is thought to be a criminal (e.g., an ex-con) as well as all those who did not meticulously practice ritual purity. From the perspective of the devout and zealous of the day, that meant that most of the common people were numbered among the "sinners," since they were preoccupied with matters of making a daily living and had little, if any, time for all of the purity regulations.
Jesus' associations with such indecent people (from the perspective of the religious establishment) is degenerate too because he eats with them. In the Jewish society of the day, eating entailed a degree of intimacy greater than our customs. We might have a casual dinner with most anyone without thought. However, the religious taboos in place in Jesus' time involved the idea that eating with another exposed you to the character of that person. It is as if the sinners had a disease that was contagious and could easily be communicated in the process of sharing food.
Jesus defends his association with such people in a simple saying: "These are the people who need help." His mission is to connect the outsiders with the reign of God, not to minister to those who were already connected. This is actually an implicit affirmation of the righteousness of the Pharisees, since they seem to be ones in this saying who have no need of a physician (although that proves obviously not to be the case). We are given to believe that this curt saying silenced the religious officials and sent them off trying to figure out just what Jesus had meant.
Following on the tail of the conflict over Jesus' hobnobbing with the scum of society comes the second clash. In this case, the clash is not so severe. Some "people" ask a simple and direct question of Jesus. We are to presume that there is nothing sinister in their question; their question is not intended to trap Jesus. Imagine, instead, a Baptist asking a Lutheran why Lutherans baptize infants. It is important to note, however, that both the Pharisees and the disciples of John the Baptist practiced fasting. Jesus had associated himself with John's ministry by asking to be baptized by the wilderness preacher (1:9).
Fasting was a regular discipline in Judaism, dating far back in their history. To fast was to admit your need and unworthiness before God. At least once a year, faithful Jews were supposed to fast (e.g., Leviticus 16:29), and fasting on special occasions was also probably common in Jesus' day (e.g., Ezra 8:21-23). Many scholars see in this story the church's justification for continuing the practice of fasting.
Jesus' response to the people's question is garbed in a marriage metaphor. There are times to fast and times to celebrate. You don't fast at a wedding. On the contrary, you eat a plentiful meal and drink more than you should. However, neither do you hold a joyful celebration at a wake. As long as Jesus ("the bridegroom") is with his disciples, they rejoice. When he is gone, then the fasting will begin.
The final segment of the lesson is another pair of metaphorical sayings, each of which suggests the radical newness of the era ushered in by Jesus' ministry. It does no good to patch up the old garment with a new piece of cloth. Nor does it make sense to try to use old wineskins for new wine. Here we have a remarkably concise insight into Jesus' understanding of his ministry. He is not about the process of trying to repair the old machinery of Judaism, simply tinkering with what is already in place. That won't work. What he begins is a totally new era in which God's presence in the world is direct and immediate. It is a new wine that needs a new container.
The new wine is an image of the new connection between God and humanity. In Christ God makes a new connection (a new covenant) with the creation. It is not that we try harder and get tuned into the right frequency so that we finally have a good connection with God. God connects with us by the immediacy of the divine presence in Christ. With the connection comes the birth of a new relationship: God, humans, and now the reality of the relationship between humans and God. This is the day Hosea promised would come, when God would lure humans back into relationship with God's self. This is the day when the Spirit writes letters on our heart, just as Paul supposed. Being connected with God entails God's successful wooing of the beloved into relationship.
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
Hosea 2:14-20
Hosea could very well be called "the prophet of intimacy" -- of intimacy with God. Hosea's ministry took place in northern Israel during the early days of the kingship of Jeroboam II (786-746 B.C.). And when he characterizes for his compatriots the relationship they are to have with their Lord, Hosea uses two figures of speech. First of all, Israel's relation to her God is to be like that of a faithful wife with her husband. The Lord "wed" his bride Israel in the desert (13:5), providing for her every need like a loving husband for his wife (cf. 2:8), and for his love he asked that Israel love him in return, with all her heart, in faithfulness and righteousness. Second, however, the prophet changes metaphors to characterize Israel's relation with God as that of an obedient and loving son to his father. When God delivered Israel out of bondage from the land of Egypt, he adopted Israel as his son, teaching the infant how to walk, lifting him up in his arms, showering upon him the love of a father for his firstborn child (cf. 11:1-4). And God the Father expected his son to love him in return, with steadfast devotion.
We can see from the use of such metaphors to characterize the relation with God that the message of Hosea and of the Old Testament is far from that legalism often ascribed to the Book of the Old Covenant. Hosea is speaking in terms of the deepest and most heartfelt devotion. And indeed, the entire Bible calls for us to have such an intimate relation with our Lord. In some portions of the New Testament, Jesus is metaphorically termed the bridegroom of the church (Mark 2:19 and parallel). In others, we members of the church are the sons and daughters whom God has adopted into his family (Galatians 4:4-7). Throughout the sacred story, God asks of us the most intimate and heartfelt love in return for his love. "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might" (Deuteronomy 6:5; Mark 12:30). That is the greatest commandment.
As is so often true of us, however, Israel in Hosea's time is neither a faithful wife nor an obedient son to God. The metaphor that predominates in the first three chapters of the prophet's book is that of marriage, and instead of being a faithful wife, Israel has been a whore. She has given herself to other lovers, that is, to other gods and goddesses, whom she thinks can furnish her with the good things of life. The result is that God is portrayed in Hosea as divorcing his unfaithful wife (1:9; 2:2), to leave her to her own devices and to fall victim to the onslaught of the Assyrian Empire. The northern kingdom of Israel was conquered by the forces of Assyria under Sargon II in 721 B.C., her populace was exiled, and the ten tribes that made up northern Israel disappeared forever from history. Hosea does not portray that fall, but he predicts it.
What then? Does God desert his people? Has his love finally had enough of Israel's unfaithful whoredom and abandoned her altogether? That's a burning question for us too, is it not, because what one of us here this morning can claim that we have always been faithful to our Lord? Have we too not gone after other gods, whom we think can furnish us with the good things of life -- after money and financial success, after social status and importance, after glorification of ourselves that we have so euphemistically labeled self-esteem, or indeed, after other gods of sex and power? Just look at the covers of all of the popular magazines as you go through the supermarket line. You can read there what our society and often we are chasing after. Like Israel in the time of Hosea, we have declared, "I will go after other lovers." And so are we in danger of being deserted by our God as Israel in Hosea's time was apparently deserted?
We have to look deeper into the heart of this God portrayed by Hosea to find any answers. And our prophet enables us to do that too. What do we find God doing in the Book of Hosea? We find him weeping: "How can I give you up, O Ephraim? How can I hand you over, O Israel? ... My heart recoils within me, my compassion grows warm and tender" (11:8). And so the promise of our text for the morning is that God will not finally desert his covenant people. No, what he will do is to start his history with Israel all over again. He will woo his bride once more in the wilderness, as he courted her in the beginning, and he will speak tenderly to her heart. The Valley of Trouble (Achor) will be turned into a "door of hope" for his people, and Israel will become his faithful lover as she was in the beginning when the Lord first delivered her out of Egyptian slavery (2:15).
God will betroth Israel to himself, says our text (vv. 19-20). Betrothal in Israel was legally tantamount to marriage, a binding commitment, and as a sign of that commitment, the bridegroom paid a price to the father of the bride. However, Hosea changes that custom to portray God as paying the price to the bride herself. And what will God give to his bride Israel? He will instill in her righteousness and justice, steadfast love and mercy, faithfulness and knowledge of himself in an everlasting covenant (vv. 19-20). The Lord will transform his peoples' hearts and minds, so that they will love him faithfully and forever. He will make them new persons from the inside out. Never again will they go after other gods and goddesses, those hated fertility gods of Canaan called the baals. The name "Baal" will be lost forever from their vocabularly (vv. 16-17). Never again will the land know warfare from its enemies, for the weapons of war will be abolished (v. 18). Indeed, even the fight with nature that threatens the life of Israel will be stilled, and God's people will dwell in security and in peace.
God promises all such good things will come about for his covenant people "in that day" (v. 16). That is a phrase that always signifies in the scripture an unknown time in the future, when God's kingdom will have begun on earth at the end of time and human history. In other words, this promise by God to Israel in the preaching of Hosea is an eschatological promise.
It is a puzzling promise, however, because in the eighth century B.C., northern Israel disappeared into Assyrian exile and has never been heard from again. How can God fulfill a promise to a people who are no more? How can he forgive those who no longer exist?
To answer that, we have to turn to see what the Gospel according to Matthew does with the prophecies of Hosea. Our text from Hosea portrays God beginning his history with his chosen people all over again, and Matthew is convinced that God did that in the life of Jesus. Matthew uses the words of Hosea 11:1 that speak of Israel as God's son, and he applies them to the flight of Joseph and Mary and the infant Jesus to Egypt. Joseph "rose and took the child and his mother by night, and departed to Egypt and remained there until the death of Herod. This was to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet, 'Out of Egypt have I called my son' " (Hosea 11:1; Matthew 2:14-15).
In other words, in our Lord Jesus Christ God begins his history with his covenant people -- with us, his church, his bride, his sons and daughters -- all over again, as he promised he would do in our text for the morning. And through the work and person of Jesus Christ, God can indeed turn all of us into faithful people, transforming us in our hearts and minds by his Spirit until we live with him in righteousness and justice, in steadfast love and mercy. God can make us new persons in Jesus Christ. And by faith in our Lord, we can have a "door of hope"; we can look forward with certainty to his kingdom of peace and safety, when war is no more and his good realm has come on all the earth.
