The Greatest Love Story You've Probably Never Heard

When Hosea's wife leaves, Hosea seeks after her, finding her, and paying the price for her redemption, giving us a wonderful picture of what Christ will do for us at the cross. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WEDpUCVqKEU

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The Greatest Love Story You’ve Probably Never Heard

Good Morning. What do you think of when you imagine a “love story.” I think of those Lifetime movies or something somebody is insisting I watch, promising that it’s not too sappy and has Dean Cain. One highlight in most of them is a wedding, there’s usually a wedding at the end or beginning.

The book of Hosea begins with a wedding, and like Lifetime movies that begin with a wedding, this one is headed toward heartbreak from the start. But by the time the story is over, it becomes one of the greatest love stories ever told, not because it’s romantic, but because it’s about God’s grace.

The book opens with the Lord telling Hosea, “I want you to get married.” Compared to some of the other commands prophets have gotten, this seems pretty easy. Then the Lord tells him who: “Her name is Gomer.”

That’s the biggest drawback to preaching this story, since no one over 40 can imagine a beautiful woman named Gomer. While she was beautiful, the problem was the life she lived. She was either already, or was about to become a prostitute, likely serving in Baal’s temple, where prostitution was a part of pagan worship. Verse 2 probably caused a little squirming in our Old Testament lesson when God’s command to Hosea was: “Go, take to yourself a wife of whoredom... for the land commits great whoredom by forsaking the Lord.” I wonder how long Hosea stood there in silence. Did I hear You right, Lord? I’m supposed to be a prophet. Lord, people know who I am!

But God hadn’t made a mistake. He wasn’t just arranging a marriage, He was writing a sermon, a sermon that wasn’t just preached, but lived.

Hosea obeyed. He found Gomer and married her. And it’s very important to notice for our story that he really loved her. Everything that follows shows this man genuinely loved his wife. Together they built a home, had children, and perhaps Hosea began to believe the Lord’s warning would never come true.

Then, little by little, things change. I imagine she started staying out later than usual, a few small lies, and shorter conversations. Then one night, she didn’t come home. One night becomes several, then weeks, and we find out she abandoned not just her husband but her children too, returning to her old life.

Now, most of us think we know how this story ought to end. We’d probably tell Hosea, “You did everything you could. She made her choice. It’s time to move on.” That’s certainly what the neighbors were saying, and it’s exactly what our culture would say. But if Hosea had simply walked away, God’s sermon would have been ruined.

Because Hosea isn’t really Hosea, and Gomer isn’t really Gomer. Hosea represents the Lord. Gomer represents Israel. But, before we can be too hard on Israel, we need to realize she represents us too.

One of the saddest lines in the book of Hosea is Hosea 2:8 where Israel thanks Baal for blessings that the Lord had given to the nation: harvests, rain, oil. We can read that and think, how could they? But we do the same thing.

We often credit accomplishments to discipline instead of God’s grace, to hard work instead of God’s mercy, and we forget that everything have was given to us by Him. We’ve just found more sophisticated idols, or sometimes, just ourselves. But the book of Hosea doesn’t just give us an image of our unfaithfulness, it also shows us a picture of redemption.

Hosea shows us how God bears the cost of restoring his people, both here, and ultimately at the cross. In chapter three, and just a few simple words: “And the Lord said to me, ‘Go again (and love her).’”

Not because Gomer deserved another chance, not because she’d apologized or earned forgiveness. Go again and love her again, just as I love My people. By this point, Gomer has hit bottom.

The world she chose has finished with her. At first, it’s exciting. Then it enslaves you and finally, it leaves you empty. That’s what happened to Gomer.

The beauty that once made her desirable has faded. The people who wanted her had moved on. Now her old life is done with her, and she’s standing in the slave market, ready to be sold because her appeal to the world has faded.

Then, through the noise of the marketplace, she hears someone bidding. Fifteen shekels of silver. One and a half homers of barley. The bidding stops. She looks up, and standing in front of everyone is the prophet Hosea.

Hosea, the man she betrayed, whose heart she broke. This is where everyone cries. Can you imagine the whispers? “Has he lost his mind after all of her unfaithfulness?” But he doesn’t seem to care. He didn’t come to defend his reputation. He came for his bride.

If someone had asked why, Hosea only has one answer: because I love her. Then Hosea does something remarkable. He doesn’t shame her, doesn’t remind her of every mistake. He simply takes her by the hand and leads her home.

If that were the whole story, it would already be one of the greatest love stories ever told. But Hosea was never meant to be the hero.

Hosea was pointing to Someone greater.

For hundreds of years, God’s people heard this story about the husband who went looking for his wayward bride, who paid the price for her adultery, and who brought her home and loved her despite her sin.

Then one day Jesus of Nazareth began walking the roads of Galilee. He ate with tax collectors, welcomed sinners, touched lepers, searched for the lost, and He began calling Himself the Bridegroom. Hosea’s story had never merely been about Hosea. It had always been pointing to Christ.

Jesus didn’t wait for His bride to find her own way home. He came looking for wayward sinners. He took on our flesh, and sought those who had wandered. He came, as He said Himself, “to seek and to save the lost.” Not merely to save, but to seek. Jesus walked into our broken world, but the price was infinitely greater.

Hosea paid with silver and barley. Jesus paid with His own blood, bearing the cost of restoring His unfaithful bride. Peter tells us we “were not redeemed with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ.”

Most of us spend our lives imagining we’re Hosea, the faithful one, the one who’s been wronged. But we’re Gomer. We’re the ones who wandered. We’re the ones He loved before we ever knew Him.

But the best news from this story is that, if I’m Gomer, then my salvation doesn’t depend on how tightly I’m holding on to Christ. It depends on how tightly Christ is holding on to me. And He will never let us go.