Then she shall say, “I will go and return to my first husband, for it was better with me then than now.”
Hmm. Hosea opens with a command by God that he take a wife of whoredom, and so he did. The marriage went like you’d expect, marrying an adulterous whore. What an awful command from God. Apparently, it’s designed to signify God’s relationship with Israel. Israel is the lovely and special wife, who turns to other gods and disregards her husband.
At some point, the adulterous wife realizes things were better before, with the loving and doting husband, and chooses to return, just as Israel will.
In what ways have I turned away from the loving and doting God, pursued my own purposes, only to eventually realize that things were better with God? I am not aware of any huge life regrets, or one single bad decision or wrong path in my life. Either I’ve avoided them, or am still on the wrong path and don’t know. But I have made hundreds or thousands of smaller bad choices.
For me, they tend to happen when three of my sometimes-good-but-frequently-bad traits collide. I am doggedly self-reliant, and I’m proud. Put these two together, and I’m happy to pursue a wrong path, because like a toddler, “I can do this all by myself”. And then when it turns out I cannot, or I should not, I’m too proud to stop or ask for help. Or I won’t even start something that I’m not already good at, because I’m too prideful to do it badly. Some of these I’m quick to re-turn to God. But some I doggedly stay on the wrong path until I run repeatedly into the brick wall at the end.
This morning, I’m thinking about how great it is that we have a God that is always waiting for us to return.
My strength left me, and my complexion grew deathly pale, and I retained no strength.
Whew! Daniel has just recounted his experience of meeting God. It was exhausting, confusing and complicated to read. I cannot imagine how it must have felt for Daniel. What we know is that after his encounter, Daniel’s strength left him, he grew pale and retained no strength. I can imagine.
The accompanying reflection focuses on the human experience of meeting God. Abram stretched himself on the ground. When Moses saw God in the burning bush, he hid his face. Isaiah proclaimed “Woe is me” upon meeting God. And poor Daniel. His visions were terrifying enough; to have God appear, it’s no wonder he retained no strength.
A.W. Tozer writes, “a vision of the divine transcendence soon ends all controversy between the man and his God.” Man is left with no question of God’s power and majesty. I am reminded of an explanation offered to me by a friend about the different ways Christians worship. Liturgical Christians, those who follow more set ways of worship, and those with more vestments and things considered “high church”, are reflecting and worshiping the God of power and mystery and might. There’s a holy reverence in the worship, acknowledging God’s holiness.
This is contrasted with more contemporary or evangelical worship that reflects a different but no less true picture of God. There is a familiarity and friendship in the worshipped God. Jesus my friend, my companion.
As someone who has grown up in the former worship style, this was so incredibly helpful for me. I’m a fan of contemporary Christian music, and love signing along in my car. It doesn’t take much to make me weep, at contemporary worship services or especially poignant music. I’m swept up in the closeness of God. I’ve been to clergy gatherings of mostly evangelical clergy, and the prayers offered between colleagues are heartfelt, and again, made me weep. There is a place for this worship in my world. It feeds that part of my soul that needs God as a friend. And there is a place for the liturgical, majestic worship in my world. It feeds the part of my soul that needs God as mystery and all-powerful.
If tears are a sign of the Spirit, I have experienced God in both forms of worship, but probably more in the God-is-close kind. But I have also experienced God in the God-is-mystery worship. In those instances, I’m left with a slack-jawed sense of awe. This morning, I’m thinking about how I experience God, based on the settings we humans construct to worship. I’m glad there are multiple ways. I need them all.
