I love theatre. It’s rooted in the love of a good story. I love that feeling of excited anticipation – the cacophony of the orchestral instruments as they do their final tuning, the crowd noise quietens, the house lights dim, the stage lights brighten, the opening music plays, and the curtains part – all together in an anticipated symphony as the first act begins. There’s that sense of nervous excitement as the actor approaches the stage: will those very first impressionable lines succeed or fail to set the scene memorably? Then there’s the costumes, the sets, the actors themselves…oh! and the comedy, those acts, and actors entrusted with the task of amusing interjection – something light and farcical in nature – to entertain the crowd or to relieve the tension of the serious moment. The story unfolds, the characters are loved or hated, as prescribed. We are all taken along the journey of the tale, encouraged to laugh, induced to cry, moved to anger or passion, the sense of adventure or conflict felt, all at the appropriate moments – together participating in the rising action, the climax, and finally, the resolution. All is rounded up, finished off, concluded and resolved. The play ends in final celebration, excitement, and happiness – the audience purposefully left on an elated high, exit the theatre with “bravo”, “what a good show!”, “didn’t she/he do well?” Flowers, praise, hugs, and handshakes are given.
As the scene of Hosea chapter 2 opens, I feel intrusive as I watch on. Like I have entered a private room and am witnessing the monologue of a grief-stricken lover. I shouldn’t be here in this moment. I am trespassing on something so sacred, something so intimately private – yet I can’t turn aside. The grief is so powerfully voiced and performed that I am drawn to witness its expression. I must stay hidden behind the curtains, lest I expose the actor in this most intense moment. I sense I am not watching an artist at work, I am witness to the very soul of this one. This is not a play…
Yet, I watch as if it were a play, the words spoken – this Lover, this Husband, this God, with His head in His hands moving from anger, injustice and betrayal, to love, sorrow and compassion – then back again to anger…an up and down roller coaster of one who has been deeply grieved. The hurt of betrayal competing furiously with the deep love He has for her. Wanting to see her hurt, as He is hurting on the one hand, then wanting to wrap His arms around her and bring her back to Himself. Going from one emotion to another, to another, to another…
If I were new to this story, I would wonder at the one who has so severely torn apart the heart of this Lover. What could she have done to so equally enrage and destroy with sorrow, this Lover? The suffering of His heart is testament to the degree of love He has for her. It must be perfect love that has been given, that the love lost or the betrayal or the rejection of it is perfectly destroying his soul with such fierce grief. What other cause could account for this degree of sorrow?
This is indeed a tragedy. In theater, a tragedy is defined as the dramatic composition, often in verse, dealing with a serious or somber theme, typically involving a great person who has experienced downfall and utter destruction. This is Hosea’s tragedy. This is the story of God.
A Monologue
Act One
Scene 1
Hosea
Sitting in sorrow.
Pacing in anger.
Crying.
Raging.
Loving.
Hurting.
Grieving.
Gut-wrenching pain of the heart.
[Oh God…!!]
He paces. Back and forth. Back and forth. Angry. Enraged. Irritated. His breathing strong and rapid.
Damn her! Damn her!
She is not my wife
I am not her husband!
Ohhhh…I know that look –
She lifts her chin, tilts her head, looks that look…that look of a whore in business…
Drawing her lovers to her breast
If that’s how it is to be, let her be stripped
Let all her lovers see her naked – bared for all to see
Let everything be taken from her –
Everything I have given her
Let her be like the desert
A place desolate and barren and thirsty –
O desert, I say, slay her with thirst
Let no water be found
Nor satisfaction, nor gratification
I will not love those children
Children born in disgrace by this unfaithful woman
She who says, “I will go back to my other lovers,
They will give me all the food and water, beautiful clothes and perfumes and wine I could want.”
I won’t let her find her way back
Everywhere she turns I will block her way
She will chase her lovers, but not catch them
She will look for them, but not find them
Then maybe she will say, “I will go back to my husband,
At least I had what I needed there.”
Grieving
It was I who gave her food and clothing and perfumes
It was I who lavished her with beautiful jewellery
Angry
But when she comes, I will take away everything…the food and the wine –
I will take back the clothes I gave her
I will take back everything
Everything that I gave her to cover her nakedness and the shame of her prostitution
I will expose her for what she is
Her lovers will want nothing to do with her
There will be no more celebrations
No more parties where she dresses in her fine clothes and jewellery and goes after her lovers,
Grieving
…but me she forgot…
Scene 2
Then,
Falling to the chair. Head down. Head in hands. Sorrowful. Desperate for her. His passion growing in intensity.
No! No! I love her!
I will win her back
Though she has nothing
I will speak tenderly to her
Shower her with gifts – again
Though this has been a place, troubled and dark, I will bring her back to Me
She will find hope – again
Yes, she will walk through this darkened doorway with sun beyond its frames
She will sing – again
Like she did in her innocent days
Excited
And I will say,
Call me “husband”. Call me “lover”
No longer call me “master, the one who I must serve”
Determined
I will remove all the obstacles of love between us
I will take away everything that took her continually back to her other lovers
I will betroth her to me forever
I will marry her – again – a marriage filled with goodness and of love and compassion
I will betroth her to me in faithfulness
Oh, I can see it now –
She will soak – fully bathe – in the depth of my love for her.
Excitment rising
Yes! Even the earth will see and respond to this love I have for her
Sun and rain will bless the earth
The earth will dance with new grain and wine and oil
All creation will celebrate with us in our love, one for the other
And she will reside in our home – and stay here!
Put down her roots here – with me
No more will she return to her lovers
Calming
I will love her
She, who was not loved
And I will call her mine
Give her my name
– She who had no place to belong and who had no name –
And she will say – “You are my God”
Resolutely,
That is what I will do
I will win her back
Love will win her back to me.
The End.
_________________
God, though this is a terribly sad discourse, etched with such pain, it too is very beautiful. It displays that depth of emotion I hadn’t understood You possessed before. A heart-stricken Lover, angry, desperate, impassioned for the love He has for His bride. If it is true that “The more a man loves, the more he suffers. The sum of possible grief for each soul is in proportion to its degree of perfection”, then Your grief over our love lost is immeasurable, just like Your love for us is immeasurable. Your pain is as great in intensity as Your Perfect Love for us is. The separation, the tearing at Your heart in our departure from You is piercing and fierce. It seems that this roller coaster of emotions – the anger, the grief, the compassion, the desire You experience – is repeated over and over throughout this book of Hosea. This is what this ‘tragedy’ speaks to me – though humanity has wandered hopelessly far away, we are not lost to You. Your love will not allow it.
Continued in next week’s blog…
[Hosea was a prophet of God to the nation of Israel. It is where much of this journey of love was awakened. His story is found in the Old Testament part of the Bible. Read more here.]