The very abruptness of its introduction, without any explanation as to
the speaker, suggests how swiftly and joyfully the Father hastens to
meet the returning prodigal while he is yet afar off. Like pent-up
waters rushing forth as soon as a barrier is taken away, God's love
pours itself out immediately. His answer ever gives more than the
penitent asks--robe and ring and shoes, and a feast to him who dared not
expect more than a place among the hired servants. He gives not by
drops, but in floods, answering the prayer for the taking away of
iniquity by the promise to heal backsliding, going beyond desires and
hopes in the gift of love which asks for no recompense, is drawn forth
by no desert, but wells up from the depths of God's heart, and
strengthens the new, tremulous trust of the penitent by the assurance
that every trace of anger is effaced from God's heart.
The blessings consequent on the gift of God's love are described in
lovely imagery, drawn, like Hosea's other abundant similes, from nature,
and especially from trees and flowers. The source of all fruitfulness is
a divine influence, which comes silently and refreshing as the 'dew,'
or, rather, as the 'night mist,' a phenomenon occurring in Palestine in
summer, and being, accurately, rolling masses of vapour brought from
the Mediterranean, which counteract the dry heat and keep vegetation
alive. The influences which refresh and fructify our souls must fall in
many a silent hour of meditation and communion. They will effloresce
into manifold shapes of beauty and fruitfulness, of which the Prophet
signalises three. The lily may stand for beauty of purity, though
botanists differ as to the particular flower meant. Christians should
present to the world 'whatsoever things are lovely,' and see to it that
their goodness is attractive. But the fragrant, pure lily has but
shallow roots, and beauty is not all that a character needs in this
world of struggle and effort. So there are to be both the lily's blossom
and roots like Lebanon. The image may refer to the firm buttresses of
the widespread foot-hills, from which the sovereign summits of the great
mountain range rise, or, as is rather suggested by the accompanying
similes from the vegetable world, it may refer to the cedars growing
there. Their roots are anchored deep and stretch far underground;
therefore they rear towering heads, and spread broad shelves of dark
foliage, safe from any blast. Our lives must be deep rooted in God if
they are to be strong. Boots generally spread beneath the soil about as
far as branches extend above it. There should be at least as much
underground, 'hid with Christ in God,' as is visible to the world.
But beauty and strength are not all. So Hosea thinks of yet another of
the characteristic growths of Palestine, the olive, which is not
strikingly beautiful in form, with its strangely gnarled, contorted
stem, its feeble branches, and its small, pointed, pale leaves, but has
the beauty of fruitfulriess, and is green when other trees are bare.
Such 'beauty' should be ours, and will be if the 'dew' falls on us.
In verse 7 there are difficulties, both as to the application of the
'his,' and as to the reading and rendering of some of the words. But the
general drift is clear. It prolongs the tones of the foregoing verses,
keeping to the same class of images, and expressing fruitfulness,
abundant as the corn and precious as the grape, and fragrance like the
'bouquet' of the choicest wine.
Verse 8 offers great difficulties on any interpretation. The supplement
'shall say' is questionable, and it is doubtful whether Ephraim is the
speaker at all, and whether, if so, he speaks all the four clauses, and
who speaks any or all of them, if not he. To the present writer, it
seems best to take the supplement as right, and possible to regard the
whole verse as spoken by Ephraim, though perhaps the last clause is
meant to be God's utterance. The meaning will then come out as follows.
The penitent Israel again speaks, after the gracious promises preceding.
The tribal name is, as usual in Hosea, equivalent to Israel, whose
penitent cry we heard at the beginning of the passage. Now we hear his
glad response to God's abundant answer. 'What have I to do any more with
idols?' He had vowed (verse 3) to have no more to do with them, and the
resolve is deepened by the rich grace held forth to him. Hosea had
lamented Ephraim's mad adherence to 'his idols' (iv. 17), but now the
union is dissolved, and by penitence and reception of God's grace, he is
joined to the Lord, and parted from them. His renunciation of idolatry
is based, in the second clause, on his experience of what God can do,
and on his having heard God's gracious voice of pardon and promise. If a
man hears God, he will not be drawn to worship at any idol's shrine.
Further, in the third clause, Ephraim is joyfully conscious of the
change that has passed on him, in accordance with the great promises
just spoken, and with grateful astonishment that such verdure should
have burst out from the dry and rotten stump of his own sinful nature,
exclaims, 'I am like a green fir-tree.' That is another reason why he
will have no more to do with idols. They could never have made his
sapless nature break into leafage. But what of the fourth clause--'From
Me is thy fruit found'? Can we understand that to mean that Ephraim
still speaks, keeping up the image of the previous clause, and declaring
that all the new fruitfulness which he finds in himself he recognises to
be God's, both in the sense that, in reality, it is produced by Him, and
that it belongs to Him? He comes seeking fruit, and He finds it. All our
good is His, and we shall be happy, productive, and wise, in proportion
as we offer all our works to Him, and feel that, after all, they are not
ours, but the works of that Spirit which dwells in penitent and
believing hearts. Some have thought that this last clause must be taken
as spoken by God; but, even if so taken, it conveys substantially the
same thought as to the divine origin of man's fruitfulness.
The last verse is rather a general reflection summing up the whole than
an integral part of this wonderful representation of penitence, pardon,
and fruitfulness. It declares the great truth that the knowledge of the
pardoning mercy of God, and of the ways by which He weans men from sin
and makes them fruitful of good, makes us truly wise. That knowledge is
more than intellectual apprehension; it is experience. Providence has
its mysteries, but they who keep near to God, and are 'just' because
they do, will find the opportunity of free, unfettered activity in
God's ways, and transgressors will stumble therein. Therefore wisdom and
safety lie in penitence and confession, which will ever be met by
gracious pardon and showers of blessing that will cause our hearts,
which sin has made desert, to rejoice and blossom like the rose.