Faithful Much?

I don't envy Hosea.  I mean, a prophet's job was typically unenjoyable, but his takes the cake.  Take for instance, the second verse of the book bearing his name:  "Go marry a whore and get her pregnant, so your kids will be sons and daughters of a whore." 

Awesome.

It sounds like something you'd find of the Best of Craigslist.  Only on Craigslist you know it's a joke.  When God tells you to do it, however, it gets a little scary.  It reminds me of the Crash Test Dummies Song, in which the people ask God, "We're not quite clear about what you just spoke; is that a parable or a very subtle joke?"

In my experience, jokes are supposed to be funny; I don't hear Hosea laughing.  Or his kids, for that matter.  Their names?  "Not My People", "Not Pittied," and "God Sows."  At least the last kid got off OK.  Not really.  His name is a reference to the site where King Jehu killed two kings, beheaded 70 of Ahab's princes, and slaughtered the rest of his leaders and officials.  It'd be like naming your kid "Dachau."

Alright, so God asked Hosea to do some...odd things with his family life.  So what?  Hosea's wife and kids become a metaphor for God and God's people.  We never hear that Hosea's wife (her name is Gomer, BTW) quit being a prostitute.  She kept sleeping with other men for money.
God says that's what his people do to him all the time.

Us, the unfaithful wife?  Worse:  Us, the common street walker?  How so?


Because God wants us to be his alone!  Not his and someone else's.

I know an ordained Presbyterian elder who will not pray with people in her church because she is afraid of offending them.  I also know a minister who will not pray "in Jesus' name" when asked to pray outside of regular Sunday morning church because non-Christians might be present.

Or how many of us grabbed a copy of The Secret, or Tuesdays With Morrie, and thought, "What a great way to enrich my spiritual experience, and this totally fits my Christian life!" 

There's a difference between having 'doubts' and actively searching for 'spiritual alternatives.'  Call me hard-line on this, but if you want a spiritual book, grab the Bible.  If you want 'new spiritual practices,' try doing what Jesus says.  Start with this one:  "But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; ...For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have?  Even IRS agents do the same.  Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect."  Sounds like a lifetime of work, right there.

Simple Kindness

In the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37), the mark of being a neighbor is 'kindness.'  Like your State Farm agent, the Samaritan was there when most needed.  One would think that kindness is one of those no-brainers in life.  Except, we're not all that good at it.  Like the man who questioned Jesus, we're always looking for a way to be neighborly on our terms.  As long as we get to define who our neighbor is and how exactly we are expected to treat that neighbor, we're good.  It's when those choices are taken from us that we begin to get uneasy.

Maybe it's because of the world we live in.  Try showing kindness on the battlefield in Iraq.  Or the boardroom in the office.  Or the lunch line in the cafeteria.  Our world is driven, not by love (sorry, Madonna), but by competition, greed, and individualism.  Although it is sometimes enjoyable, I'm not being cynical here. 

At best, modern ethicists are concerned with rights, justice, and equality.  That's all well and good, but where do mercy, forgiveness, and compassion enter into the scene?  At what point do we say, 'Fair just isn't going to cut it, we need to be kind.'?  

Now you're starting to sound like a hippy, Ben.  Maybe so.  But what Jesus challenges us to do here is to move from simply living to living abundantly.  To live and love as God does.  It's more than being helpful; more than being nice. 

God transforms us in Jesus Christ.  In doing so, we are moved beyond who we are and what we're comfortable doing, and into the fullest experience of life -- loving and being loved infinitely.