I’ve noted before that A. W. Tozer begins his book, The Knowledge of the Holy, writing, “What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us.”¹ But he is not the only one who makes such a claim. In like manner, John Frame writes in the opening pages of his excellent book on the doctrine of God, “There is nothing more important than knowing God. . . . Our message to the world must emphasize that God is real, and that he will not be trifled with. He is the almighty, majestic Lord of heaven and earth, and he demands our most passionate love and obedience.”²

But is this really true? I mean, if the most important thing about someone is how they think of God, is that reflected in how we speak of others. Do we speak about others by saying about them, “That is someone who is obsessed with his God. His heart has been so arrested by his God that there is nothing about he cares about more deeply”? It would seem that if we believed Tozer’s statement to be true, we would. After all, there is nothing more important about them, according to Tozer.

Or do we really believe, as Frame says, that there is nothing more important than knowing God? If that is to case, then is it reflected in our own lives? Would one suggest by looking at our lives that we think nothing is more important than knowing God?

Yet, we shouldn’t evaluate our lives simply on the basis of statements made by Tozer or Frame. After all, these men are flawed, like us. They are prone to error even as we are. So, perhaps they’ve overstated their case. Yet it doesn’t seem they have when you turn to the pages of Scripture.

Consider, for example, Jeremiah 9:23-24a, where the Lord declares, “Let not the wise man boast of his wisdom or the strong man boast of his strength or the rich man boast of his riches, but let him who boasts boast about this: that he understands and knows me.” Or again, consider Jesus’ prayer in John 17, as he prays, “Now this is eternal life: that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent” (17:3). And even consider Hosea’s opening words in his message from Hosea 4:1, “Hear the word of the LORD, O children of Israel, for the LORD has a controversy with the inhabitants of the land. There is no faithfulness or steadfast love, and no knowledge of God in the land.”

It doesn’t seem to be an overstatement in light of these texts to say that there is nothing more important than knowing God. And if that is true, then there is great delight in being able to look together at a text like Hosea 11-14.

I mentioned last week that Hosea moves from describing their acts of sin, judgment, and repentance to revealing what lies at the core of those things in chapters 4-10. Well, beginning in chapter 11, it seems he goes even deeper. In fact, I don’t know that there’s a more powerful and moving picture of God’s heart in the Old Testament that what we’ll see in these verses we look at this morning. Hosea 11-14 provides for us insight into who our God is, what is his heart, and what is his nature. So, this morning, I want us to look at and consider from Hosea 11-14 more about the nature of our great God, for this text reveals who he is to us.

First, as Hosea continues to proclaim his message, he show us that . . .

God’s love for us is greater, not lesser, than our love

Now, I want to spell out in a second why I’ve chosen to make the point that way. But let me first point you to these opening verses of chapter 11 that reveal to us God’s heart of love for his people.

In Hosea 11:1-3, the Lord begins to speak of how he brought Israel to himself, as his own son. Hosea writes, “When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I call my son. The more they were called, the more they went away; they kept sacrificing to the Baals and burning offerings to idols. Yet it was I who taught Ephraim to walk; I took them up by their arms, but they did not know that I healed them. I led them with cords of kindness, with the bands of love, and I became to them as one who eases the yoke on their jaws, and I bent down to them and fed them” (11:1-4).

Do you see that rich fatherly imagery? God says that he redeemed them because he loved them. He took them by the arms and helped them learn to walk. He knelt down and gently fed them so that they might be nourished. Yet, as he did all that, they grew up and rebelled against him so that the more he called them, the more they went away.

So, now God is going to judge them. Yet in his judgment, his heart of love comes through. He declares in 11:8-9, “How can I give you up, O Ephraim? How can I hand you over, O Israel? How can I make you like Admah? How can I treat you like Zeboiim? My heart recoils within me; my compassion grows warm and tender. I will not execute my burning anger; I will not again destroy Ephraim; for I am god and not a man, the Holy One in your midst, and I will not come in wrath.”

It’s almost hard to grasp these verses. The Lord says that as he considers their judgment, his heart recoils within him because his love and compassion are so deep. And ultimately he declares that he will not totally obliterate them, but leave a remnant, as he does.

But I don’t want us to move over this too quickly. After all, our minds can be quick to dismiss the reality reflected in this verse for a couple of reasons. First, we can be quick to dismiss this because we recognize that God is not emotional in the same way that we are. That is, when we think of emotional realities, we are often able to be ruled by them. So, we might be happy one day and sad on another because of something happening that is beyond our control. Or we might find ourselves just depressed on a certain day, wishing that we could control our emotions. In fact, emotions often signify for us that which is constantly changing. God is not like man in that way. So, when we read of God being described in terms that are characteristic of man, we are right not to associate those weaknesses of man’s character to God. So, for example, when the text says that God came down to confuse the language of those constructing the tower of Babel, we know that he didn’t literally need to move from one place to another. He is omnipresent. He is everywhere.

So, in this text, we can read of these expressions of God described to us in characteristics that are true of humans, and we rightly say, “This doesn’t mean that God is like us in these ways.”

Second, we can be quick to dismiss the reality reflected in these verses because it is simply hard to believe. To consider that the God who created the universe might love us – individuals who are so insignificant seeming in the universe – is almost beyond our understanding. It is sometimes easier for us to accept that another individual loves us more faithfully, more consistently, and more deeply than we are often tempted to think God does.

But, if we are quick to dismiss such truths and slow to accept them, Hosea 11:1-9 puts us in a tough place. After all, we might read of God’s love for us and say, “Well, that word ‘love’ doesn’t signify precisely the same emotions we feel in the same way we feel them,” and there’s truth to that. He’s not like us. But these verses don’t just say, “God loves his people.” No, there’s much more here. Here, he is pictured as a father, despairing over his children whom he will judge, and his love is so deep that his heart recoils within him. We can’t escape this picture by debating the meaning of a word like “love.” And clearly this description means something. Therefore, minimally, I think these verses teach us that God’s love for us is greater, not lesser, than the love we have.

That is, though we can say that God does not love in precisely the way that we as finite and fickle people love, it doesn’t mean his love is lesser than ours. How dare we suggest that! God’s love is deeper. In fact, we should look at one of our fellow creatures and think, “If he or she loves me that deeply, how much deeper is God’s love for me?”

And this is important for us to recognize because the Bible teaches us that our love for God is rooted in our understanding that he has first loved us. And if loving him is our greatest commandment, then acknowledging, and understanding, and delighting in his love for us is a requirement.

So, perhaps this morning we need to stop for a minute and repent for being slow of heart to believe what God has clearly revealed to us. That he deeply and dearly loves us as his children. After all, it may be your failure to recognize that truth and let it sink in your heart that has led you to embrace and hold on to sin too easily.

And that mention of sin brings us to another reality we see in these chapters, that . . .

Our sin is always personal rebellion against our God

It can be easy for us to want to separate our sinful actions from the notion of rebellion against God. After all, isn’t this how we act with one another at times? If we are discovered gossiping, we want to say, “Well, I didn’t do it to hurt you.” Or if we act selfish in relation to our spouses or roommates, we want to say, “I was just tired. I didn’t mean to make your life painful.” But the reality is, all sin is an act of personal rebellion against our God.

Note how God speaks of Israel’s sin in these chapters. In 11:7, the Lord declares, “My people are bent on turning away from me.” Their sinful words or actions aren’t just words or actions, they reflect a turning away from God. Then, in 13:4-6, after stating that Israel has sinned more and more, throwing themselves into gross idolatry, the Lord says, “But I am the LORD your God from the land of Egypt; you know no God but me, and besides me there is no savior. It was I who knew you in the wilderness, in the land of drought; but when they had grazed, they became full, they were filled, and their heart was lifted up; therefore they forgot me.”

Why does God bring up that he is their God who delivered them and saved them? It’s because he wants them to see that what they’re doing is rebelling against him. When they pursue their sin, it’s because they feel that they have all they need in their own power, and they don’t need God. They forget him.

Specifically the Lord declares in 13:16, “Samaria shall bear her guilt, because she has repelled against her God.”

We cannot hold this truth far from our minds. When you are making a choice to sin – even in a way that you think only harms you and no one else – you are actually rebelling against the God who loved you and redeemed you. All sin is moral rebellion against him.

And the reason this is the case is because God’s commands aren’t arbitrary. He doesn’t simply declare murder as wrong and loving others as yourself as good in an arbitrary way so that he might very well have declared murder as good and loving your neighbor as wicked. No, his commands are always in accord with his righteous character and a reflection of his righteous character. In any world God creates murder is evil because it’s not in accord with God’s character. Therefore, if we murder, we are acting in rebellion toward God’s own character, which he has made known to us as our lawgiver. Therefore, as our lawgiver, all our sin is moral rebellion against God. We cannot think of it otherwise.

And when we take these two points together – the depth of God’s love and the nature of our sin as personal rebellion against him – how can we who know God’s love refuse to turn from our rebellion against him?

In Hosea, that’s the way the Lord sets up these final chapters. That’s the tension he wants his people to feel. How can they continue to rebel against the one who loves them and redeemed them? But that’s not the only element here. The Lord also, as he has throughout this book, declares a coming judgment. And what we must recognize here is that . . .

God’s warnings to us are not empty threats

The Lord’s heart may recoil as he considers judging Israel, but if they don’t repent, judgment will certainly come. In 12:2 we read, “The LORD has an indictment against Judah and will punish Jacob according to his ways; he will repay him according to his deeds.”

As the Lord once compared Israel’s love for him like the morning dew quick quickly is wiped away, he says that he will wipe away Israel. “Therefore they shall be like the morning mist or like the dew that goes early away” (13:3).

Again, we read in 13:7-8, “So I am to them like a lion; like a leopard I will lurk beside the way. I will fall upon them like a bear robbed of her cubs; I will tear open their breast, and there I will devour them like a lion, as a wild beast would rip them open.”

Finally, in 13:16, “Samaria shall bear her guilt, because she has rebelled against her God; they shall fall by the sword; their little ones shall be dashed in pieces, and their pregnant women ripped open.”

And that did happen. In 722 BC, Assyria, as a tool of the Lord’s judgment, destroyed Israel. They slaughtered many and brought about a ruthless and gruesome destruction. And the Lord wanted Israel to know ahead of time that when that day came, it was his judgment of them. His warnings of judgment were no empty threats.

In the same way, as children of God, our hearts should be moved to obedience as we consider God’s gracious love for us. But that’s not all he’s given us to move our hearts. He also reminds us that if we will not let go of our sin and turn to him in obedience, then he will judge us. These aren’t empty warnings. You cannot refuse to turn from sin and think you can escape judgment.

Yet, there is hope. We finally see in Hosea that . . .

God’s call to repentance is rooted in his delight in forgiving

Chapter 14 begins with a call for Israel to turn, to repent, of their sin. The Lord declares in 14:1-3, Return, O Israel, to the LORD your God, for you have stumbled because of your iniquity. Take with you words and return to the LORD; say to him, ‘Take away all iniquity; accept what is good, and we will pay with bulls the vows of our lips. Assyria shall not save us; we will not ride on horses; and we will say no more, ‘Our God,’ to the work of our hands. In you the orphan finds mercy.”

But why does God command repentance? It’s because he delights in fully forgiving his people of their sins. Listen to his delight in speaking of what he will do if they repent. We read in 14:4-7, “I will heal their apostasy; I will love them freely, for my anger has turned from them. I will be like the dew to Israel; he shall blossom like the lily; he shall take root like the trees of Lebanon; his shoots shall spread out; his beauty shall be like the olive, and his fragrance like Lebanon. They shall return and dwell beneath my shadow; they shall flourish like the grain; they shall blossom like the vine; their fame shall be like the wine of Lebanon.”

And again, we hear God’s heart is wondering why Israel would not turn, as we read in 14:8, “O Ephraim, what have I to do with idols? It is I who answer and look after you. I am like an evergreen cypress, from me comes your fruit.” Why would they turn from him?

But how can forgiveness be possible? Let’s say we did repent this morning. We’ve still done awful things. How can God remove them or see us as righteous in light of them? That question is answered in part in Matthew 2:15. In Matthew 2, Matthew speaks of Jesus being taken to Egypt as a child until the king would die. Then, his father, Joseph, brought him out of Egypt so that Matthew writes, “This was to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet, ‘Out of Egypt I called my son.”

Now, we might read that and say, “How was that declaration in Hosea 11:1 actually prophesying so that it was fulfilled in Jesus coming out of Egypt?” Well, the answer is that it was prophesying indirectly. Not all prophecy in the Old Testament is direct. Much is. So, we might read that the virgin will bear a Son, and she does. That is direct prophecy. But there is also indirect prophecy. This is how the author of Hebrews tells us that the priests in the Old Testament prophesied. They did so indirectly. That is, merely looking at all their shortcomings – their need to offer sacrifices for their own sins, their offering of bulls and goats, and their inability to continue to intercede for us because they die – was sending us a message, namely, you need to look for a greater priest, and he is coming.

In the same way, when we read in Hosea 11 and see Israel’s rebellion, it should lead us to ask, “But will God ever have a righteous son?” After all, Israel doesn’t seem to be an answer. Hosea 11:1 is crying out, “Please, God, raise up a righteous son.” In Matthew 2:15, Matthew quotes that text to say, “He’s done it.” His name is Jesus of Nazareth. It is this child that is being led out of Egypt. And he will indeed be perfectly righteous. And it is through him that we will be made righteous as well.

The reason we can repent and truly be forgiven and truly be credited with righteousness before God is not because of ourselves but because of him who paid the penalty for our sins on the cross, who rose from the dead, and who lived a righteous life for us. As we place our faith in him, his perfect righteousness is counted for us that as those united with God’s Son, we get to be sons of God as well. And that is the most perfect revelation of his love for us and heart for us. So, let us delight good news now as we come to the table. Amen.

1 A. W. Tozer, The Knowledge of the Holy (New York: Harper Collins, 1961), 1.

2 John Frame, The Doctrine of God (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2002), 1-3.

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