Hosea prophesied in the northern kingdom, and his oracles are directed primarily against Israel (e.g. 1:4–6; 3:1; 4:1; 5:1; 6:10; 9:1; 10:1; 11:1; 14:1), against Samaria, the northern capital (7:1; 8:5–6; 10:5, 7; 13:16), and against northern shrines, particularly Bethel (e.g. 10:15; cf. 4:15; 10:5).
The opening verse sets his ministry in the eighth century bc, during the reigns of Uzziah, Jotham, Ahaz and Hezekiah, kings of Judah, and during the reign of Jeroboam [II] son of Joash king of Israel (1:1). Jeroboam II was, effectively, the last king of the dynasty that began when Jehu killed Ahab’s son Joram and usurped the throne of Israel (2 Kgs 9 – 10). Jeroboam’s son Zechariah did come to the throne, but was assassinated after only six months (2 Kgs 15:8–12). I will soon punish the house of Jehu for the massacre at Jezreel (1:4) indicates that Jehu’s dynasty is about to come to an end, suggesting that the early part of Hosea’s ministry coincided with the closing years of Jeroboam’s reign, in the middle of the eighth century bc (Thiele 1994: 12; Kitchen 2003: 31; Miller and Hayes 2006: 222). Hezekiah is the latest king mentioned. He probably began to reign as coregent with his father, Ahaz, in around 727 bc, became sole ruler in 715 bc (Kitchen 2003: 31; see also Thiele 1994: 174; Miller and Hayes 2006: 403–404; cf. Becking 1992: 54–55) and died in the early seventh century bc. Hosea warns of impending judgment and exile at the hands of the Assyrians (e.g. 10:6; 11:5–7; cf. 13:15–16), who were becoming increasingly powerful. That judgment, though, does not yet appear to have taken place, suggesting that most of the material in the book dates to around 725 bc, at or near the start of the chain of events that led to the fall of the northern kingdom.
Hosea’s prophecy is thus set against the background of Assyrian expansion, and the chaos in Israel that followed Jeroboam’s death and which culminated in the fall of the northern capital, Samaria. And, while it is possible that some of the text has been edited, there is no compelling reason why most, if not all, of the material may not have originated in that setting (see Andersen and Freedman 1980: 57–59, 317; Dearman 2010: 4–8; Moon 2018: 7–8; see also J. Day 2010: 202–224).1
Assyria’s most recent resurgence began with the accession of Tiglath-Pileser III (744–727 bc), also known as Pul (2 Kgs 15:19), and continued under Shalmaneser V (726–722 bc), Sargon II (721–705 bc) and Sennacherib (704–681 bc). During the relatively long reigns of Jeroboam II in Israel and Uzziah in Judah both kingdoms enjoyed prosperity and stability. That changed with Jeroboam’s death, and in Israel a series of kings vied for power. Jeroboam’s son, Zechariah, was assassinated by Shallum, who was, in turn, killed by Menahem. Biblical and non-biblical sources show that Menahem paid tribute to Assyria (2 Kgs 15:19; COS 2.285, 287). This may have been enforced, though it is also possible that Menahem elicited Assyrian support for his coup, and alliances with Assyria are suggested in 5:13; 7:11; 8:9; 12:1. Menahem reigned for about ten years and was succeeded by his son Pekahiah. After two years, Pekahiah was killed by Pekah,2 who rebelled against Assyria. The assassination of Pekahiah may be alluded to in 7:3–7 (Macintosh 1997: 255–261).3 Pekah formed an alliance with the Syrian king, Rezin, and, in the so-called ‘Syro-Ephraimite war’, invaded Judah (cf. 2 Kgs 15:37; 16:5; Isa. 7:1–9).4 This is commonly viewed as an attempt to draw Judah into the rebellion and replace its king, Ahaz, with someone more compliant (Isa. 7:6) (M. E. W. Thompson 1982; Irvine 1990; Kelle 2005: 181–200; Na’aman 2005: 28–30). Another view is that this was a local conflict over territory (Oded 1972; Tomes 1993). The rebellion of Pekah and Rezin against Assyria would not be served by engaging in a potentially debilitating war with Judah (Oded 1972: 153; Tomes 1993: 70), and if there was a significant anti-Assyrian coalition, it is likely to have been more prominent in Tiglath-Pileser’s annals (Tomes 1993: 64–66). However, there are records of action by Tiglath-Pileser against several nations (COS 2.287–288; cf. Dearman 2010: 25), suggesting possible coordinated opposition against Assyria. Ehrlich (1991: 55; 1996: 88–94) suggests that what may have started as a coalition against Judah over the control of land developed into an anti-Assyrian league in the light of the growing threat from Assyria. Following Alt (1953), several commentators see a reference to the Syro-Ephraimite war in 5:8.5
Ahaz, against the advice of the prophet Isaiah (Isa. 7), appealed to Assyria for help, with the result that Judah became an Assyrian vassal. Tiglath-Pileser III seems to have responded to Ahaz’s plea (2 Kgs 16:9) and campaigned against Syria and Israel (734–732/1 bc),6 though he would probably have acted anyway in his own political interests. During this time, Hoshea appears to have killed Pekah, seized the throne in Samaria (2 Kgs 15:30) and come to terms with Assyria.7 Later, Hoshea rebelled, probably with the promise of Egyptian support (cf. 2 Kgs 17:4).8 This vacillating between Assyria and Egypt is noted in 7:11. Hoshea’s rebellion prompted the then king of Assyria, Shalmaneser V, to invade, and following a lengthy siege Samaria fell around 722 bc (Kaiser 1998: 363–365; Younger 1999: 465, 482; cf. Becking 1992: 56). According to the Babylonian Chronicle, Shalmaneser ‘shattered’ Samaria (COS 1.467; cf. Younger 1999: 466–468, 479), suggesting that he captured the city (cf. 2 Kgs 17:3–6; 18:9–12). His successor, Sargon II, also claims to have conquered the city (COS 2.296).9 This may refer to a subsequent attack in 720 bc (Becking 1992: 39–40; Younger 1999: 482); it may have been propaganda by Sargon, to support his claim to the throne (Kitchen 2003: 39–40; Younger 2002: 291); or, possibly, Shalmaneser died before the siege ended, and it was Sargon who took the city (Na’aman 1990: 206–225). Sargon also claims to have deported 27,290 people from Samaria (COS 2.296), thus completing the subjugation of Israel begun by Shalmaneser. As a result, by 720 bc, and maybe a few years earlier, Israel was an Assyrian province (see Becking 1992: 56; Younger 2002: 288–289).
The suggested dates of Hosea’s ministry (750–725 bc) make him a later contemporary of Amos, who also prophesied in the northern kingdom, probably around 765–745 bc. Though their periods of ministry may have overlapped by a few years, there is no indication of direct contact between them. The books have different emphases, but they address similar issues. Hosea’s dates also coincide with the ministry of Isaiah in the south, which probably began around 740 bc.10 Again, though, there is no indication of contact between them.
There are several references in the book of Hosea to Baal (baʿal) or the Baals (bĕʿālîm) (2:8, 13, 16, 17; 11:2; 13:1). The Hebrew word means ‘lord’ or ‘master’ and may sometimes be a generic reference: ‘lord of . . .’. In the Old Testament, the terms frequently refer to Canaanite gods,11 including deities associated with particular places. Discoveries at Ugarit have shed further light on the Canaanite understanding of Baal. The epic Baal and the Sea describes the victory of the storm god Baal, also referred to as Hadad (COS 1.247, 253, 261, 263, 265, 266), over the sea god Yam, and Baal’s subsequent elevation to a chief god of the Canaanite pantheon. Baal’s victory results in ‘well-being on the earth’, primarily in the form of rain (COS 1.253). The role of the goddess Anat in this,12 together with texts that suggest a sexual relationship between Anat and Baal (see J. Day 2000: 142–143; Wyatt 2002: 155–161; Yee 2012: 208), led to the common view that Baal worship was characterized by fertility rites and cult prostitution. In recent years, though, the view of the relationship between Baal and Anat has been challenged (P. L. Day 1992: 183–186; 1999: 36–43; M. S. Smith 2001: 57; Pitard 2002: 257–258), along with the understanding of what may have been involved in the Baal cult in Israel. In the Ugaritic epic, Baal’s pride following his victory led to him falling victim to Mot (death), but he was revived, and his prosperity restored (COS 1.271). Baal’s dying and rising is often taken to reflect the cycle of the seasons in the agricultural year (J. Day 2000: 117–118; cf. M. S. Smith 2001: 104–131). The association of Baal with fertility is alluded to in 2:5. The imagery of dying and rising may be reflected in 6:2; 13:14.
Since the discoveries of the Ugaritic texts, Baal (singular) in the Old Testament has generally been understood as a reference to the Canaanite god (J. Day 1992c; 2000: 68–90). However, Ancient Near Eastern texts refer to other names with the appellative ‘Baal’ (see Dearman 1993: 173–191; 2001: 12), including the Phoenician Baal-Shamem, ‘Lord of the Heavens’ (COS 2.146). One view is that these are ‘different manifestations of the one god, Baal’ (e.g. J. Day 2000: 68–69). Others suggest that they are distinct deities (see Dearman 1993; 2001: 13), though maybe with local manifestations.13 It is possible that distinctive characteristics were attributed to these different manifestations. So, for example, Baal-Zebub of Ekron seems to have been associated with healing (2 Kgs 1:2–6, 16). Old Testament references to ‘the Baals’ probably reflect this multiplicity of these deities (e.g. Mays 1969: 43; Wolff 1974: 39; Davies 1992: 77). References in the singular, ‘Baal’, may indicate that a particular deity is in mind, though it is not certain which one, or even if it is the same god in all cases. Hosea, though, appears concerned less about the specific details of ‘the Baals’, and more about what the worship of false gods represents: spiritual adultery away from Yahweh.
Kelle argues that Israel’s ‘lovers’ in Hosea are not other gods, but foreign powers with which Israel formed alliances. He claims that there is little evidence for a continuing Baal cult in Israel in the eighth century bc, and argues that references to ‘Baal’ and ‘the Baals’ should also be understood in the context of political treaties with these foreign ‘lords’ (2005: 17–20, 111–166; see also Keefe 1995: 70–100; 2001; 2008: 113–127; Yee 2001: 354–357). Nations with which Israel formed improper alliances are sometimes described as Israel’s ‘lovers’ (e.g. Jer. 4:30; 22:20, 22 [nrsv]; Ezek. 16:33–37; 23:5, 9, 22; cf. Hos. 8:9) (see also P. L. Day 2006: 167–173). However, there is little to suggest that references to Baal in Hosea should be understood in this way (P. L. Day 2006: 167 n. 2; Dearman 2010: 351). Also, while there may be few references to Baal worship in other texts relating to this period, by the time of Jeremiah it seems to have been a significant problem in Judah (e.g. Jer. 2:8; 7:9; 9:14; 11:13; 12:16; 19:5; 23:13). Jehu had made an important move towards eradicating Baal worship in the northern kingdom (2 Kgs 10:18–28), but his was not a thoroughgoing reform. In particular, Jehu continued in the ways of Jeroboam (2 Kgs 10:29), who had set up golden calves in Dan and Bethel (1 Kgs 12:28–29; cf. Hos. 8:5–6; 10:5). These were easily confused with the bull-like representations of Baal and are associated with Baal in the list of reasons for the fall of Samaria (2 Kgs 17:16). This suggests that aspects of Baal worship did survive in Israel within the official cult, up to, and beyond, the time of Hosea.
Hosea prophesied, then, at a time of significant religious apostasy; the people worshipped Canaanite gods and participated in the religious practices associated with them. What those practices were, though, is unclear. They included illicit sacrifice (e.g. 4:13, 14; 11:2), which was unacceptable to Yahweh (e.g. 8:13; 9:4; 12:11). Other features commonly associated with this false worship may, though, be questionable.
Baal worship has frequently been associated with cult prostitution, whereby temple servants, both men and women, engaged in sexual acts as part of fertility rituals (e.g. Mays 1969: 75; Andersen and Freedman 1980: 370; Hubbard 1989: 81–82; Birch 1997: 32–33; cf. J. Day 2010). This is related to the idea of hieros gamos (‘sacred marriage’),14 which linked agricultural fertility with the sexual union between a god, primarily Baal in this context, and the earth, represented by an earth goddess, possibly Anat (cf. Wolff 1974: 15; Davies 1992: 126–127). However, the view that ‘sacred marriage’ and rituals associated with it, including cult prostitution, were part of Israel’s syncretistic worship has been questioned. The terms qādēš and qĕdēšâ, which are frequently translated ‘shrine/temple prostitute’ (Deut. 23:17; 1 Kgs 14:24; Hos. 4:14), are related to qādôš (‘holy, set apart’) and probably refer to individuals in the service of the cult.15 And, in the Old Testament, the feminine forms, qĕdēšâ and qĕdēšôt, appear only in close association with zônâ,16 the usual term for ‘prostitute’. This suggests a link between the two and implies that these temple servants did engage in sexual activity (e.g. Bird 1989: 87; van der Toorn 1989: 203; Dearman 2010: 166, 364). This seems to be confirmed in Hosea 4:14, where zônâ and qĕdēšôt again appear in parallel. It is less certain that this was their primary role and had specific cultic significance.17 In the context of Hosea’s indictment of Israel, though, whether or not it was connected with specific religious rituals, illicit sex does have associations with the Baal cult, and parallels Israel’s spiritual adultery.
One aspect of Israel’s apostasy is highlighted in 2:16: ‘On that day, says the Lord, you will call me, “My husband”, and no longer will you call me, “My Baal”’ (nrsv). The term ‘my Baal’ (baʿlî) could be translated ‘my master’ (as niv),18 though it is probable that the term here refers to the Canaanite god (cf. 2:17), indicating that Yahweh and Baal had become confused in the minds and worship of the people. In the period of the settlement and early monarchy a number of personal names were compounded with ‘baal’ (cf. Dearman 1993: 187–190). Saul and David gave such names to their children,19 suggesting that ‘baal’ might have been used as an epithet for Yahweh (cf. Wolff 1974: 49–50). Also, the related verb, bāʿal (‘to rule over, marry’), has Yahweh as subject in Isaiah 54:5; Jeremiah 3:14; 31:32. Some mythological language associated with Baal also appears in the Old Testament, where it is applied to Yahweh. In Ancient Near Eastern literature Baal is referred to as ‘cloud-rider’ (COS 1.248–258; see also J. Day 1985: 30–32; M. S. Smith 2002: 81–82; Anderson 2015: 86–88), and similar expressions are used of Yahweh (Ps. 68:4; Isa. 19:1; cf. Dan. 7:13). Lotan, a monster overcome by Baal, is described in a similar way to Leviathan, who is defeated by Yahweh.20 This may not have been a problem initially. However, Hosea’s language suggests the development, by his day, of a religious syncretism, whereby Yahweh was worshipped, not as Israel’s unique God, but alongside other Canaanite deities, as just one more of them (contra Stuart 1987: 57–58). And worship practices associated with Baal were incorporated into the worship of Yahweh. This might not constitute an explicit rejection of Yahweh, but it was equally unacceptable, and Hosea’s prophecy looks forward to a time when false worship in all its aspects will be removed, and Yahweh will be known and worshipped as he should be.
The book of Hosea is the first of the twelve so-called ‘Minor Prophets’, a designation that is more indicative of their size, relative to the much longer prophetic books of Isaiah, Jeremiah and Ezekiel, than their significance. In the Hebrew Old Testament the collection appears as a single book, traditionally known as ‘(The Book of) The Twelve’. It is possible that the individual prophetic books were brought together primarily to fill a scroll (Childs 1979: 309), or maybe to prevent some of the smaller books from being lost,21 and in the past they have been treated separately. However, the collection is referred to as one book from early in the development of the Old Testament canon,22 and some recent discussion suggests that the collection should be read in its final form as a unified work.23 Others suggest that the unity of The Twelve has been exaggerated, and continue to argue that the individual books should be read primarily as distinct units.24
The Book of the Twelve has possible unifying elements. There are common themes, including the ‘Day of the Lord’, which appear in most of the individual books.25 And Malachi’s hope of a new world order serves as an appropriate conclusion to the collection. Yahweh’s love for his people, which is set in the context of a marriage in Hosea, is also reflected in Malachi 1:2. Both books also point to the relationship between father and son (Hos. 11:1–4; Mal. 2:10).26 In Watts’s view, this continuing love of God, which has not changed (cf. Mal. 3:6) despite the changing circumstances between the eighth and fifth centuries bc, provides a frame for the Book of the Twelve (Watts 2000: 209–217; cf. Lim and Castelo 2015: 39–40). Within The Twelve, there are a number of repeated catchwords and phrases (cf. Nogalski 1993a: 21–57; Redditt 2000: 14–15).27 And some of the smaller books, such as Nahum and Obadiah, which are limited in scope, might be seen to take on additional significance when read as part of a wider group. House (1990: 63–109), for example, suggests that the Book of the Twelve has a structural and literary unity with three main sections: Hosea–Micah focuses on sin;28 Nahum–Zephaniah sets out the consequences of sin; Haggai–Malachi points to future restoration. Hwang (2014) sees the Missio Dei as a unifying theme.
The process by which the Book of the Twelve was compiled is not clear. It is possible that Hosea may have been joined to other texts to form a smaller group, maybe of four books, Hosea, Amos, Micah and Zephaniah,29 sometimes referred to as the ‘Book of the Four’, which was then added to, in further stages, to form the final collection (e.g. Nogalski 1993a: 278–280; 1993b: 274–275; Schart 2000: 41–45; Albertz 2003: 231–251).
It is important to look at how texts function, both in their immediate context and within the wider canon. If it is possible to speak of a ‘Book of the Twelve’, rather than an anthology of twelve independent prophetic books, reading the book of Hosea as part of a larger collection might give an insight into the theological context in which it was transmitted. A key issue here, though, is whether existing texts have simply been ordered in a particular way, or whether their content has been edited so as to give greater coherence to the final work. In my view, arguments for unifying redactions of the Book of the Twelve are not convincing. Individual prophecies may have been put together in such a way as to give the collection an overall structure (e.g. House 1990), but this would primarily have involved ordering previously existing material rather than changing its content. It is also possible that the collection has no clear pattern and the order is broadly chronological, or grouped around common expressions and ideas. Hosea’s position at the beginning of the collection may, nevertheless, be significant. The first three chapters, in particular, introduce the theme of Israel’s unfaithfulness, which will result in punishment but which does not, ultimately, affect Yahweh’s love for them. This provides an appropriate introduction to the collection (House 1990: 74–76; Watts 2000),30 which ends with the hope of final restoration. There is little, though, to suggest that the text of Hosea has been adapted to fit into that context, and while its place within, and relationship to, the Minor Prophets as a whole may have some significance in providing a context for interpretation, it does not affect discussion of it also, and primarily, as an independent book.
Several commentators and scholars note that the book of Hosea has elements in common with Deuteronomy.31 There is significant emphasis on the covenant relationship between Yahweh and Israel (8:1; cf. 2:18; 6:7), and on the possibility of a return to the wilderness (midbār) (cf. C. Smith 2018), where that covenant relationship began (2:14–15). Both books liken breaking the covenant to prostitution (e.g. 1:2; 4:10, 12; 9:1; cf. Deut. 31:16). Hosea’s criticism of false worship recalls Deuteronomic regulations. In particular, the expression in 3:1 – pānâ ʾel ʾĕlōhîm ʾăḥērîm (turn to other gods) – occurs in that form only here and in Deuteronomy 31:18, 20 (cf. 30:17). Hosea 14:9 also echoes the language of Deuteronomy 32:29. As already noted, in Hosea the basis for Yahweh’s commitment to, and forgiveness of, his people is his love, and in that context the noun ʾăhābâ occurs in 3:1; 11:4, and the related verb, ʾāhab, in 11:1; 14:4. The verb also points to Yahweh’s commitment to his people in Deuteronomy 4:37; 7:8, 13; 10:15; 23:5 (see further, Vang 2011). The threefold reference to grain (dāgān), new wine (tîrôš) and oil (yiṣhār) (2:8, 22) appears in a very similar form in Deuteronomy (7:13; 11:14; 12:17; 14:23; 18:4; 28:51). This suggests a possible link, though similar expressions occur in other passages.32
Links with Deuteronomy have led some scholars to conclude that the book of Hosea underwent a ‘Deuteronomistic’ redaction, maybe around the time of the Babylonian exile (e.g. Yee 1987: 308–313;33 Nogalski 1993a: 278–279; 1993b: 274–275; Radine 2013). The term ‘Deuteronomistic’ is generally used to describe writings associated with a so-called ‘Deuteronomic movement’34 which reflects the theology of Deuteronomy and is linked with reforms from around the time of Josiah, at the end of the seventh century bc and into the early exilic period.35 However, there seems little need to date the final version of Hosea later than the early seventh century bc. Consequently, it seems better to suggest that Hosea was aware of the book of Deuteronomy,36 or that he was influenced by the same theology that also influenced the Deuteronomic reformers (Dearman 2010: 19–20, 39).37 Another possibility is that the message of prophets like Hosea had an impact on later movements (e.g. Wolff 1974: xxxi;38 Kugler 1999: 138–139). Some scholars point to the possible link between Deuteronomic traditions and Levites, and suggest, too, a close connection between those levitical reform circles and prophets such as Hosea (e.g. Wolff 1974: xxii–xxiii; Achtemeier 1996: 5; Cook 2004: 61–62, 231–266; Leuchter 2017: 142–154).
It is widely recognized that there are links between the prophecies of Hosea and Jeremiah (e.g. J. A. Thompson 1980: 81–85; Dearman 2010: 7, 19–20, 143–144; Lalleman 2013: 57–58). Both view the unfaithfulness of the people in going after the Baals (habbĕʿālîm, 2:13, 17; 11:2; Jer. 2:23; 9:14)39 as prostitution (zānâ) (e.g. 1:2; 4:10; Jer. 2:20; 3:1) and, uniquely, describe Israel’s sin as something horrible (šaʿărûr) (6:10; Jer. 18:13; cf. Jer. 5:30; 23:14). In both, the covenant relationship between Yahweh and his people is likened to a marriage characterized by steadfast love (ḥesed),40 with idealized beginnings in the desert in the days of Israel’s youth (nĕʿûrîm) (2:14–20; Jer. 2:2). And, following the people’s failure, both point to a new, restored covenant relationship which will recapture that early faithfulness (2:18–19; Jer. 31:31–34). Both liken the relationship between Yahweh and Israel to that between father and son (11:1–4; Jer. 31:9, 20). Further common ideas include the call to return (šûb) to Yahweh (e.g. 6:1; 7:10; 14:1; Jer. 3:10, 14; 4:1)41 and the importance of knowing or acknowledging (yādaʿ) Yahweh (2:20; 5:4; 6:3; 13:4; cf. Jer. 9:3, 6, 24; 24:7; 31:34).42
Some explain the similarities between Hosea and Jeremiah by suggesting that both were edited by Deuteronomists. However, as noted already, that implies an unnecessarily late date for Hosea.43 It is probable, though, that the prophecy of Hosea was taken to Judah, perhaps at the end of the eighth century bc, and Jeremiah may have become aware of it there.
While many commentators attribute much, if not all, of the content of the book of Hosea to the eighth-century prophet or to his followers, there have been suggestions that some of the material is the result of later redactions.
In the past it was argued that the original message of Hosea focused predominantly on judgment, and so did not contain elements of hope (Harper 1905: clix–clxi). Passages pointing to future hope were, therefore, viewed as later additions. However, scholars now generally allow that messages of hope and of judgment may appear alongside one another (Wolff 1974: xxviii–xxix; Emmerson 1984: 9–16; Macintosh 1997: xcii–xcvii; Sweeney 2000: 7; Gruber 2017: 30–31), and it is not necessary to regard passages that refer to future salvation as secondary.
It is commonly held that some references to Judah may be attributable to one or more redactions in the southern kingdom, after the fall of Samaria (Wolff 1974: xxxi–xxxii; Childs 1979: 378–381; Emmerson 1984; Macintosh 1997: lxx–lxxiv; Collins 2014: 323). Hosea’s ministry is dated primarily with reference to kings of Judah (1:1), which is more relevant to a southern audience, and suggests that the book may have been preserved and transmitted in a Judean context (Hubbard 1989: 57; Macintosh 1997: lxx; Dearman 2010: 79). It is also argued that there are more references to Judah than might be expected in a prophecy addressed primarily to the north (Emmerson 1984: 4), and that several appear inconsistent with the immediate context, where the main focus is on Israel. The reference to the Davidic king (3:5) is also seen as a later addition. Among the references to Judah, some contrast Judah and Israel (1:6–7; 4:15; 11:12 [nrsv]),44 while some indict both (5:5; 6:10–11a; 10:11; 11:12 [niv]; 12:2). This has been taken to suggest a double redaction: one favourable towards Judah, maybe viewing Judah and the Davidic monarchy as a possible source of hope for the whole nation; the other negative, anticipating that Judah would share Israel’s judgment. There is no agreement, though, on the order of the redactions.45
Some references to Judah are accepted by critical scholars as original (1:11; 5:10–14; 6:4; 8:14). Some of these (5:10–14; 6:4) probably relate to the Syro-Ephraimite war, when Judah was likely to be a matter of concern.46 In those cases, Judah is indicted alongside Israel. Emmerson (1984: 77) argues that the prophet saw hostility between Israel and Judah as a sin, and war between them leads to judgment on both. However, that is not the only issue. While 5:10 relates specifically to Judah’s hostility, 6:4, which uses the same Ephraim–Judah pairing, challenges their faithfulness to Yahweh, not their hostility towards one another.47 The reference to fortifications in 8:14 may also suggest hostility between Israel and Judah (Emmerson 1984: 76–77), though may also point to the wider concern that the people rely on themselves and their own resources rather than on Yahweh (Mays 1969: 124; Wolff 1974: 146; Macintosh 1997: 333–334). The expression of future hope in terms of the reunification of Israel and Judah in 1:11 may also fit a situation where those two kingdoms are at odds with one another.48
The distinction between suggested primary and secondary references to Judah, though, is not decisive. Several references generally regarded as secondary do appear in passages which focus primarily on Israel (e.g. 5:5; 6:10–11; 10:11), but that is also the case with 8:14. And it is reasonable to suppose that, while bringing charges against Israel, Hosea might also have included a warning to Judah. All the more so if, as seems likely, Hosea considered that Israel’s future hope lay in union with Judah (Wolff 1974: xxxi; Emmerson 1984: 88–95; Gruber 2017: 30–31). This would also explain texts that seem more favourable towards Judah (1:7; 11:12 [nrsv]), or which urge Judah not to follow the path Israel has taken (4:15). The reference to one leader in 1:11 also raises doubt over the view that 3:5 is secondary. Hosea is likely to see a single head of a united nation coming not from the failed northern dynasties (cf. 1:4), but from the line of David (see Stuart 1987: 67–68; Hubbard 1989: 31; see also Emmerson 1984: 101–113; Dearman 2010: 140).
A more debatable text is 12:2:
The Lord has a charge to bring against Judah;
he will punish Jacob according to his ways.
(niv)
It seems strange, in a prophecy directed primarily towards Israel, to address Judah first (though this also happens in 1:11), and the pairing Judah–Jacob is also unusual.49 It is commonly held, therefore, that a later redactor has replaced an original ‘Israel’ with ‘Judah’ (Mays 1969: 161–162; Wolff 1974: 206, 211; Emmerson 1984: 63–65; Macintosh 1997: 479–480). This gives a more natural reading. And in the play on words in 12:3, where the name ‘Jacob’ (yaʿăqōb) is linked with the verb ʿāqab (‘to cheat, supplant’; cf. Gen. 25:26; 27:36), we might expect the verb ‘to strive, struggle’ (śārâ) to correspond to the name ‘Israel’, as in Genesis 32:28. There is, though, no textual evidence for the change, and no clear explanation for why it was necessary, since a text referring to Jacob could be applied to Judah as it stands.50 It is possible that śārâ is not part of the wordplay, but highlights another instance in Jacob’s life of contention with God. The verse begins with a conjunction which Dearman (2010: 299–301) translates ‘also’ (‘the Lord also has a charge to bring against Judah’). This links the judgment on Judah with that on Ephraim in 12:1, and brings the text into line with other passages which are directed primarily against Israel, but which also make reference to Judah.
Its superscript (1:1) suggests that the book of Hosea did circulate in Judah after the fall of Samaria and may have been reapplied to the situation there. It is not impossible that this may have led to the inclusion of what some see as a disproportionate number of references to Judah. There is, though, no compelling reason to suggest that this later reapplication resulted in any significant additions or changes to the prophet’s original message.51 The postscript (14:9) is also regarded as editorial. However, its language and thought are typically Hosean, and it may have been added by Hosea himself, or by a close follower.52
It is also, therefore, unnecessary to accept the view that the book was compiled even later, for an audience in post-exilic Judah, during the Persian period.53 Ben Zvi (2005: 13–16) argues that the idea of the return from exile as a second exodus, and the hope of the reunification of Israel and Judah under a Davidic king, best fits a post-monarchic situation. However, as noted, Hosea appears to have viewed union with Judah as a basis for Israel’s hope, and it seems natural to link that with the Davidic monarchy. Similarly, hope for the future occupation of the land (1:11) fits the context of Assyrian control over the region in the eighth century bc. And, while national restoration is linked with a second exodus in later texts (e.g. Isa. 40 – 55), that idea is not developed in Hosea, and it seems reasonable to suppose that it, like the marriage imagery in Jeremiah, builds on Hosea’s original message.
The process by which the book of Hosea has come to be in its present written form is unclear. The book is usually divided into two or three sections. Chapters 1–3 focus on the prophet’s personal circumstances, in particular his marriage and family. Chapters 4–14 contain Hosea’s prophetic messages. These chapters are frequently divided into two (4:1 – 11:11; 11:12 – 14:9). Wolff (1974: xxxi) notes that the sections have parallel structures, moving from accusation, to the threat of judgment, to the hope of salvation (see also Hubbard 1989: 34; Dearman 2010: 7–18; Lim and Castelo 2015: 33–34). The relatively small number of prophetic formulae may indicate that the material has been removed from its original setting of prophetic proclamation and arranged, possibly chronologically or topically. It is also possible that some of the text may have originated in a literary, rather than an oral, form (Dearman 2010: 4, 16). The superscript (1:1), postscript (14:9), inclusion of the third-person narrative in chapter 1 and the overall structure suggest that the book was put into its present form by an editor, though some of that arrangement may be attributable to Hosea himself (Macintosh 1997: lxxii–lxxiv). There seems no good reason to question the historicity of the narrative in chapter 1, and the content suggests a writer who was familiar with the prophet and his family circumstances. He would also have been acquainted with Hosea’s message, and it is reasonable to assume that the biographical detail complements the content of chapters 2 and 3.54 Similarly, though chapters 4–14 may contain only ‘samplings of Hosea’s total repertoire’ (Hubbard 1989: 33), they may be taken to reflect the message and theological emphasis of the prophet. And any editing of the final text is likely to have been limited primarily to arranging, rather than adding to or changing, original Hosean material.
Within the general pattern of accusation, threat and restoration, chapters 1–3 are programmatic for the prophecy as a whole (Garrett 1997: 34–35; Abma 1999: 262). They highlight the nature of Israel’s unfaithfulness to the covenant as spiritual adultery or prostitution (cf. 4:10–15; 5:3; 6:10; 7:4; 9:1). They also point to Yahweh’s love for a wayward people, and his willingness to restore and renew his relationship with them. Chapters 4–14 then relate to more specific aspects of the nation’s apostasy. Twice in these chapters Yahweh is described as bringing a charge (rîb) against his people (4:1; 12:2).55 This reinforces the idea of a tripartite structure. The promise of restoration in 11:8–11 ends with the expression declares the Lord, suggesting that the third section begins with the accusation in 11:12.
It has been widely recognized that the Hebrew text of Hosea is among the most difficult in the Old Testament (see Andersen and Freedman 1980: 66–68; Macintosh 1997: lxxiv–lxxvi). A traditional view suggests that the text has become corrupt in transmission, and uses the lxx, which differs from the mt in several places, to arrive at a correct version (Harper 1905: clxxiii–clxxiv; cf. Stuart 1987: 13). A more recent view is that the problem may lie with Hosea’s peculiar dialect, language or writing style (Macintosh 1997: liii–lxi; Dearman 2010: 9–11).56 This would have been unfamiliar to those who translated the book into Greek, and may have resulted in some of the text being emended, thus accounting, at least in part, for differences between the mt and lxx (Macintosh 1997: lxxvi–lxxviii; Lim and Castelo 2015: 30–31). Peculiarities of language and style might also have affected the transmission of the Hebrew text, and the possibility of corruption cannot be ruled out (Andersen and Freedman 1980: 66; Dearman 2010: 9). Nevertheless, despite its difficulty, the consonantal mt is still generally preferred; and it seems better to start there, and take each variation on its merits (cf. Bons 2016: 129; Moon 2018: 18–19).57 Particular problems in Hosea include the frequent occurrence of hapax legomena, terms which appear only here in the Old Testament, and the unusual use or form of what appear to be standard Hebrew terms (see Macintosh 1997: lvi–lix). These will be discussed as they arise in the commentary.
The prophecy has several distinctive aspects. Much of it is made up of divine speeches, which include messages of judgment and salvation. The speaker frequently alternates between the prophet and Yahweh. Also, speeches often speak about Israel rather than addressing the people directly. As noted above, some judgment speeches use the term rîb.58 This is sometimes taken to suggest a legal setting, possibly a covenant lawsuit, in which Yahweh indicts the people for their failure to meet their covenant obligations (e.g. Mays 1969: 61; Wolff 1974: 65–66; Andersen and Freedman 1980: 332; Stuart 1987: 45, 73; Gruber 2017: 186–187). There is some debate about whether rîb does indicate a judicial framework (Deroche 1981; 1983a; Daniels 1987: 360). But even if that is the case elsewhere, Hosea’s use of the term does not fit the normal pattern (Hubbard 1989: 96; Garrett 1997: 109; Lim and Castelo 2015: 116–117; cf. Huffmon 1959: 294).
Like other prophets, Hosea uses a mixture of poetry and prose. Here too, though, his style is distinctive. His poetry appears to have a pattern (see Dearman 2010: 14–16), but it does not always follow convention. Andersen and Freedman suggest that ‘for the most part Hosea goes off on his own bent, a kind of free verse, or unregulated rhythm pattern’ (1980: 65; cf. Hubbard 1989: 37). The relatively small number of prophetic formulae and transitional phrases can also sometimes make the text appear disjointed, as the subject matter jumps from one topic or image to another.
The book also includes several literary features. Some of these are mentioned here. Others will be noted in comments on the particular passages where they appear.
One significant feature of the book of Hosea is the frequent use of similes and metaphors (Wolff 1974: xxiv; Kruger 1988a; Hubbard 1989: 37–38; Eidevall 1996; Macintosh 1997: lxiii; Dearman 2010: 10–13; Stovell 2015). Chapters 1–3 contain the key metaphor of Israel as Yahweh’s adulterous wife; and the metaphor of adultery or prostitution continues into the rest of the book (e.g. 4:13–14; 5:3; 7:4). Chapter 11 employs another familial metaphor, with Israel as Yahweh’s ungrateful son. Metaphors and similes use a variety of images, including from domestic life, from the animal kingdom, from agriculture and from nature. As well as Israel’s husband and father, God is like a lion (5:14; 13:7), a leopard (13:7) and a bear (13:8). Israel is likened to a stubborn heifer (4:16), a wild donkey (8:9), a trained heifer (10:11) and a senseless dove (7:11). The leaders are like a heated oven (7:4, 6), and the nation, a part-baked cake (7:8). They sow the wind and reap the whirlwind (8:7); their love (ḥesed), and the nation itself, is like a transient morning mist (6:4; 13:3).
Hosea also makes considerable use of wordplay (see Hubbard 1989: 38; Morris 1996; Macintosh 1997: lxiv; Dearman 2010: 13–14). There are several plays on the name Ephraim (ʾeprayim). As noted above, Ephraim is likened to a heifer (pārâ, 4:16) and a wild donkey (pereʾ, 8:9). And Ephraim is also related to fruitfulness (pārāʾ, 13:15; pĕrî, 9:16; 14:8). As we have also seen, 12:3 links the name Jacob (yaʿăqōb) with the verb ʿāqab (‘to cheat, supplant’). There is, too, alliteration and assonance. So, for example, 4:16 includes the phrase sōrērâ sārar yiśrāʾēl – ‘(like a) stubborn (heifer) Israel is stubborn’. Similar-sounding words also occur in 9:15, where Israel’s ‘leaders’ (śārîm) are described as ‘rebels’ (sōrrĕrîm), and in 7:14–15, where the people have turned against (sûr) God, even though God has instructed (yāsar) them. Similarly, there is a link between Jezreel (yizrĕʿeʾl) and Israel (yiśrāʾēl), which look and sound similar (e.g. 1:4–5).
There is also wordplay around the verb šûb (‘to return’). Most references are linked with returning to Yahweh. Some are indictments because of the people’s unwillingness or inability to do so (5:4; 7:10; 11:5); others appear to be genuine calls to repentance (6:1; 12:6; 14:1–2). Some express the possibility of a restored relationship (2:7; 3:5; 14:7), and the term is also used in the context of turning away divine anger (14:4) and the restoration of the fortunes of the nation (6:11). The term is thus associated with hope for the future. The same word, though, is also used to refer to the ‘turning away’ of God’s people to other things (7:16) and to the threat that Yahweh will ‘return to [his] place’ (5:15, nrsv), suggesting that he will ‘turn away’ from them. As well as referring to the ‘giving back’ of fortunes (6:11), šûb is used when Yahweh threatens to ‘take back’ blessings already given (2:9), and to repay the people for their sin (4:9; 12:2, 14). This demonstrates a symmetry between the action of the people and the action of Yahweh. Divine judgment is also expressed in the threat that the people will return to Egypt (8:13; 9:3; 11:5). The play on words that is implicit elsewhere is made explicit in 11:5: the failure of the people to return to Yahweh will result in their return to captivity, indicating a direct correspondence between the punishment and the crime.
Linked with wordplay, Hosea also includes repetition (see Morris 1996: 45–73; Macintosh 1997: lxiv; Ben Zvi 2005: 66–67). Sometimes this appears to be for emphasis, for example: I will answer . . . I will answer (2:21, nrsv). The repetition of the same verb several times in the verses that follow may also be for rhetorical effect. The same may be true of the threefold repetition of I will betroth you to me (2:19–20). I have been the Lord your God ever since you came out of Egypt, which translates more literally as ‘I am your God from the land of Egypt’, is repeated (12:9; 13:4). And the expression like the morning mist, like the early dew that disappears describes both Israel’s transient love (6:4) and the nation itself (13:3). This again suggests a correspondence between sin and divine judgment. Ephraim is also twice referred to as a dove: turning to Assyria (7:11) and returning from Assyria (11:11).
A key part of Hosea’s message is to challenge the apostasy, idolatry and syncretistic religious practices of the nation. The people do not know (yādaʿ) Yahweh (e.g. 5:4; 11:3),59 and offer unacceptable sacrifices (4:13–14; 6:6; 8:13; 9:4; 11:2; 12:11; 13:2). And, though the message is directed primarily at the northern kingdom, Judah does not escape criticism. Israel’s priests, who lead the people into sin, face particular condemnation (4:4–11; 5:1; 6:9; 10:5). False worship results in a breakdown of right relationships within society and, though not as prominent as in Amos, condemnation of social sins is also a feature of Hosea’s prophecy. The people, badly led by the priests, disobey God’s law (4:6; 8:1, 12; 9:17); there is a lack of righteousness (cf. 2:19; 10:12) and justice (cf. 2:19; 12:6); evildoers break into houses or rob in the streets (6:8–9; 7:1); there is drunkenness (7:5), sexual misconduct (4:2, 14, 18), dishonesty (4:2; 7:3; 10:4, 13; 12:7), bloodshed and murder (4:2; 6:9; 12:14). Related to idolatry is the nation’s failure to rely on Yahweh. Hosea condemns the arrogance of those who trust in their own strength (7:10; 10:13; see also 8:14; 12:8; 13:6), turn to other gods (2:5; 3:1) or look to Egypt and Assyria for help (5:13; 7:11; 12:1; cf. 14:3). He condemns, too, the people’s ingratitude and failure to appreciate the blessings Yahweh has given them (2:8; 7:15; 11:2–4; 13:5–6).
Israel’s sin and stubborn rebellion (4:16; 7:14; 9:15) results in judgment.60 This includes a breakdown in the relationship with Yahweh (e.g. 1:9; 2:2; 5:6, 15; 9:12) and the withdrawal of blessings associated with it (e.g. 2:9; 9:2–3). Judgment will take the form of defeat, and exile in Assyria (9:3; 10:5–6; 11:5–6; cf. 8:13). Hosea also gives an insight into Yahweh’s care for Israel, which leads to frustration (e.g. 6:4; 7:13), and his unwillingness to destroy them completely (11:8–9). Consequently, indictments and pronouncements of judgment are also accompanied by messages of hope for the future.61 These parallel the judgments: the broken relationship will be restored (e.g. 1:10; 2:14–23), along with its associated blessings (e.g. 2:15); and those exiled to Assyria will return (11:10–11).
The idea of Yahweh’s covenant relationship with Israel is important to Hosea.62 There is a specific reference in 8:1; and it is further alluded to in 2:23 (cf. 1:9), which uses a characteristic covenant formula.63 The prophet’s condemnation of false worship practices is closely related to his particular understanding of this covenant as a marriage. Elsewhere in the Old Testament, false worship is sometimes referred to as prostitution (Exod. 34:15–16; Deut. 31:16), and Hosea also uses that language. However, he appears to be the first to make explicit the link between covenant and marriage (Hall 1982; Kruger 1983: 107; Hugenberger 1994: 294–296; Baumann 2003: 85; Sechelea 2009; Smolarz 2011: 61) and, more specifically, between covenant unfaithfulness and spiritual adultery. This is probably related to his own unhappy marital situation.64
There is considerable debate over the precise circumstances of Hosea’s marriage to Gomer (1:2–3).65 One issue is the meaning of ʾēšet zĕnûnîm (1:2), an expression that occurs only here. The term zĕnûnîm is related to the verb zānâ (‘to commit fornication, to be a prostitute’) and the noun zônâ (‘prostitute’), and a literal translation might be ‘woman/wife of prostitutions’ (cf. nrsv: ‘wife of whoredom’; niv: promiscuous woman). This suggests promiscuous tendencies. Gomer may have been a prostitute, though in that case she would more likely have been described as a zônâ. However, there is debate about when those tendencies became evident. Was Hosea commanded to marry a woman already known to be promiscuous, or did her adulterous behaviour become apparent only later?
Another view is that ʾēšet zĕnûnîm relates more generally to the sinful state of the nation as a whole. Gomer is an adulterous wife because she is part of a nation that has committed spiritual adultery by turning to other gods (Stuart 1987: 11–12, 26–27; see also Gordis 1954: 15). However, Hosea’s action is widely understood as a prophetic sign-act, and it is difficult to see how marriage to a typical Israelite woman would serve that function. Related to this is the suggestion that she, like other women of her day, had taken part in sexual initiation rites associated with the Baal cult (Wolff 1974: 14–15; cf. Craigie 1984: 9; Fensham 1984: 71). Recent discussion questions the nature and extent of such ritual sexual practices (Macintosh 1997: 123–125; Dearman 2010: 366–367; Lim and Castelo 2015: 52).66 And, again, if this was common, it is difficult to see how Hosea’s marriage to her serves as a sign-act.
It seems more likely that ʾēšet zĕnûnîm relates to Gomer’s promiscuous character. If this was evident earlier, marrying such a woman would be part of the sign-act (Kidner 1981: 19; Garrett 1997: 49; McComiskey 1998: 11–17; Nelson 2004: 125; Moon 2018: 36, 40–44). However, in Hosea and Jeremiah, Israel’s relationship with Yahweh is portrayed as beginning well. Jeremiah 2:2 suggests an idyllic start to the relationship, and Hosea, too, views Israel’s restoration as a return to that desert idyll (2:14–15).67 The parallel with Hosea’s marriage fits better with the view that ʾēšet zĕnûnîm relates to Gomer’s subsequent marital infidelity. On this understanding, the call to marry a promiscuous woman (1:2) is proleptic (Knight 1960: 28; Johansen 1971: 183; Andersen and Freedman 1980: 116; Hubbard 1989: 54–55; Macintosh 1997: 8; Patterson 2008: 12; Routledge 2018: 33–35). Gomer’s tendencies resulted in adultery, and Hosea recognized in hindsight that this was part of Yahweh’s intention when he gave the command to marry. Hosea’s response to his wife’s unfaithfulness then mirrors Yahweh’s relationship with Israel.
Another issue relates to the identity of the woman in 3:1. Some argue that she is not necessarily Gomer (Stuart 1987: 64–66; Davies 1993: 90–91; Moughtin-Mumby 2008: 232–236; Moon 2018: 70).68 The rhetorical purpose of Hosea’s action in showing love to this unnamed adulterous woman is to reflect Yahweh’s response to his adulterous people, and the identity of the woman or her previous husband is not directly relevant.69 It seems better, though, to see chapter 3 as a continuation of the narrative begun in chapter 1, and to take 3:1 as a reference to Gomer, who appears to have left Hosea and has found herself in trouble, necessitating a payment to secure her restoration (3:2) (Andersen and Freedman 1980: 294–295; Garrett 1997: 98–99; Macintosh 1997: 95–97; McComiskey 1998: 50–51; Dearman 2010: 131–132; Routledge 2018: 38–41). This fits better with the symbolism of the narrative: the bride that Yahweh seeks to restore is the one he first married and who has committed adultery against him. Here, too, we see the extent of Yahweh’s commitment to his people, and the love, grace and forgiveness extended to them, despite their sin. Yahweh’s willingness to restore his bride is evident in 2:14–23. He will bring his people back into the desert (2:14), to where the relationship began, and, in that place of new beginnings, he will establish with them a new and everlasting covenant (2:18–20).
In line with this understanding of the relationship between Yahweh and Israel as a marriage, Hosea frequently describes the nation’s unfaithfulness as adultery or prostitution (e.g. 4:10–15; 5:3; 6:10; 7:4; 9:1). This includes spiritual adultery, though actual adulterous behaviour and sexual promiscuity were probably further consequences of apostasy and religious syncretism.
There has, though, been some criticism of the marriage metaphor. The man representing Yahweh and the woman representing sinful Israel appear to reflect and sanction patriarchal gender stereotyping.70 And for the metaphor to work, it might be assumed that the level of control and potential sexual violence and humiliation in Hosea 2 was not unknown within the context of marriage in the Old Testament. The language here, and in other similar passages,71 has been described as ‘pornographic’ (Setel 1985; see also Brenner 1995; 1996a; 1996b), reflecting a culture of misogyny. J. M. O’Brien (2008: 33–34) goes so far as to suggest that the treatment of the woman in Hosea 2 has the characteristics of domestic abuse. This is particularly significant because the prophets are widely thought to represent the high point of ethical monotheism, and there is concern that their message reinforces and justifies controlling and abusive patriarchal attitudes and practices.72
Patriarchal ideology is evident in much of the Old Testament, and some practices appear questionable to a modern eye, though, in my view, it is going too far to describe the culture as misogynistic (cf. Carroll 1995; Sloane 2008: 66–68). It is important to recognize the particular historical and cultural context of the prophets. But it is reasonable, too, to examine the underlying ideology and be aware of current attitudes that might be influenced by it, and claim support from it. However, this does not necessarily undermine the relevance of other aspects of the prophets’ message (Sloane 2008: 53–54).
The primary purpose of the marriage metaphor is to describe Yahweh’s relationship with Israel, not to set out a continuing pattern for marriage. In its original context, the metaphor emphasizes God’s sovereignty over his people. And the punishment imposed on unfaithful Israel, while not appropriate within marriage today, nevertheless warns the nation of the disastrous consequences of violating its covenant relationship. The metaphor need not, though, be taken wholly negatively. Some approaches seem to start from the premise that the relationship is abusive: God’s dealings with Israel are primarily about power, and even expressions of tenderness are manipulative and reflect that desire to control (J. M. O’Brien 2008: 47). That is too cynical. The Old Testament does emphasize divine sovereignty and the consequences of disobedience. But it also indicates Yahweh’s love, and even his vulnerability.73 The marriage metaphor in Hosea, despite some weaknesses when viewed in a modern context, expresses divine love, compassion, faithful commitment, and God’s willingness to forgive and restore an unfaithful nation (cf. Weems 1989: 100). As such, it continues to be important in understanding the relationship between God and his people.
The term ḥesed occurs six times in Hosea (2:19; 4:1; 6:4, 6; 10:12; 12:6): more times, in proportion to its size, than in any other prophetic book.74 Ḥesed is a characteristically Hebrew term that is difficult to convey adequately in English. In these six passages it is translated in different ways: in the nrsv as ‘steadfast love’ (2:19; 6:6; 10:12), ‘loyalty’ (4:1) and ‘love’ (6:4; 12:6); in the niv as love (2:19; 4:1; 6:4; 12:6), mercy (6:6) and unfailing love (10:12).
In the wider Old Testament context, ḥesed occurs predominantly in the context of relationships, notably those involving a covenant (bĕrît).75 It relates to an inward disposition of goodwill, together with its outward expression in dutiful and compassionate action. Some link it primarily with kindness or benevolence, but that is too limiting (Routledge 1995: 194–195). The term includes a mutual and reciprocal element: there is an obligation on those who have been shown ḥesed to show it in return. And while this may, in some cases, be expressed in acts of kindness, the specific action corresponding to ḥesed will be determined by the relationship. This element of mutuality has been linked with the relationship between patron and client (Westbrook 2005; Esler 2012: 305–316; Lemche 2014: 205–207). With patronage, though, the relationship is primarily asymmetrical, and while that is usually the case with ḥesed,76 it is not necessarily so.77
In the majority of its occurrences in the Old Testament, ḥesed is shown by God, and expresses his faithful love for his people. This is also linked to covenant. In Exodus 34:6–7, which describes the renewal of the Sinaitic covenant following the incident with the golden calf, ḥesed is listed twice among the divine attributes. In addition, there are several couplets where ḥesed and bĕrît appear as parallel elements (e.g. Pss 89:28; 106:45; Isa. 54:10). The close connection between ḥesed and bĕrît is associated with Deuteronomic theology (Zobel 1986: 50–61), and it seems reasonable to suppose that Hosea was familiar with it. Another aspect of divine ḥesed is as that characteristic of God which seeks to maintain the covenant relationship despite the failure of his covenant partner (Routledge 1995: 191–193), and this corresponds to God’s action in restoring his wayward bride.
In the book of Hosea, ḥesed relates primarily to human conduct. This includes the right behaviour of those within the covenant community towards one another, and also the proper response of the people to God. In this context, Israel’s response is faithful obedience and devotion (cf. Jer. 2:2). However, in the light of the prophet’s emphasis on covenant, it seems likely that he was fully aware of the mutuality of the relationship. The new covenant relationship between Yahweh and his people will include ḥesed (2:18–19).78 This is one of the bridal gifts bestowed on Israel and refers to the endowment of a quality previously lacking (cf. 4:1; 6:4). It points, too, to a restored relationship characterized, on both sides, by ḥesed.
The book of Hosea makes several references to Israel’s past. Some note instances from the life of Jacob (12:3–4, 12). Many are related to the exodus, including coming out of Egypt and the time in the desert. These narratives point back to the nation’s beginnings and indicate an important link between story and theology (Dearman 2010: 29–44; see also McKenzie 1979; Daniels 1990; Rooker 1993; Bos 2013: 154–162; Routledge 2014a).
Jacob grasping his brother’s heel (Gen. 25:22–26; cf. Hos. 12:3) foreshadows his future priority over Esau, and his place with Abraham and Isaac as a founding patriarch of the nation. His encounter with a ‘man’ at Jabbok (Gen. 32:24–29; cf. Hos. 12:4) results in him being renamed Israel. His earlier flight to Aram and subsequent marriage(s) (cf. 12:12) also play a significant part in the nation’s beginnings. But these also point to Jacob’s competitive and contentious character; something that is shared by the people descended from him. Internecine rivalry is all too evident in the current fighting between Israel and Judah. And the state of the nation’s worship reveals a people at odds with God. Nevertheless, just as God met Jacob at Bethel, there is hope, too, for his contentious and rebellious descendants.
Allusions to the exodus point to several things. First, they emphasize the uniqueness of the God who redeemed Israel from Egypt. I have been the Lord your God ever since you came out of Egypt, which, as already noted, reads more literally as ‘I am the Lord your God from the land of Egypt’ (12:9; 13:4a), echoes Exodus 20:2 and Deuteronomy 5:6 – ‘I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt’ – both of which go on to say, ‘You shall have no other gods before me’ (Exod. 20:3; Deut. 5:7; cf. Hos. 13:4b). This is a key emphasis for Hosea and underlies the description of Israel’s idolatry as prostitution or adultery. The people have forsaken their one true covenant partner and turned to other gods. Second, they highlight Israel’s ingratitude. Yahweh brought the people out of Egypt, took them as his own, entered into an intimate relationship with them, and fed and sustained them, yet still they rejected him (9:10; 11:1–4; 13:5–6). Particularly poignant here is the reference to Israel as Yahweh’s son (11:1; cf. Exod. 4:23). Like the marriage metaphor, this emphasizes Yahweh’s deep, personal commitment to the relationship. Third, they point to coming judgment. Because they have rejected Yahweh, who brought them out of Egypt, they will return to Egypt (8:13; 9:3; 11:5): they will again experience exile in a foreign land. Judgment is also portrayed as a forfeiture of divine blessings and a return to the wilderness (e.g. 12:9; cf. 2:9–12). Fourth, whether viewed in terms of the relationship between father and son or husband and wife, the escape from Egypt, the covenant at Sinai and the wilderness wanderings are viewed as an idealized period in the Yahweh–Israel relationship (e.g. 2:15; 9:10; 11:1; cf. Jer. 2:2). That gives greater pathos to the description of Israel’s subsequent failure. However, while a return to Egypt represents judgment, it also takes the people back to where things began and offers the possibility of a new start in the relationship. Hosea anticipates a second exodus, in which Yahweh will again bring his people out of Egypt (11:11) and establish a new covenant relationship with them (2:14–20), which, as noted above, includes a restatement of the traditional covenant formula (2:23; cf. Exod. 6:7).79 And in place of failure, represented by Israel’s disobedience in the Valley of Achor at the entrance to the Promised Land (Josh. 7), this restored relationship will bring renewed hope (2:15).