“Rename your brothers ‘God’s Somebody.’ Rename your sisters ‘All Mercy.’

Wild Weekends and Unholy Holidays

“Haul your mother into court. Accuse her! She’s no longer my wife. I’m no longer her husband. Tell her to quit dressing like a whore, displaying her breasts for sale. If she refuses, I’ll rip off her clothes and expose her, naked as a newborn. I’ll turn her skin into dried-out leather, her body into a badlands landscape, a rack of bones in the desert. I’ll have nothing to do with her children, born one and all in a whorehouse. Face it: Your mother’s been a whore, bringing bastard children into the world. She said, ‘I’m off to see my lovers! They’ll wine and dine me, Dress and caress me, perfume and adorn me!’ But I’ll fix her: I’ll dump her in a field of thistles, then lose her in a dead-end alley. She’ll go on the hunt for her lovers but not bring down a single one. She’ll look high and low but won’t find a one. Then she’ll say, ‘I’m going back to my husband, the one I started out with. That was a better life by far than this one.’ She didn’t know that it was I all along who wined and dined and adorned her, That I was the one who dressed her up in the big-city fashions and jewelry that she wasted on wild Baal-orgies. I’m about to bring her up short: No more wining and dining! Silk lingerie and gowns are a thing of the past. I’ll expose her genitals to the public. All her fly-by-night lovers will be helpless to help her. Party time is over. I’m calling a halt to the whole business, her wild weekends and unholy holidays. I’ll wreck her sumptuous gardens and ornamental fountains, of which she bragged, ‘Whoring paid for all this!’ They will soon be dumping grounds for garbage, feeding grounds for stray dogs and cats. I’ll make her pay for her indulgence in promiscuous religion— all that sensuous Baal worship And all the promiscuous sex that went with it, stalking her lovers, dressed to kill, And not a thought for me.” God’s Message!

To Start All Over Again

“And now, here’s what I’m going to do: I’m going to start all over again. I’m taking her back out into the wilderness where we had our first date, and I’ll court her. I’ll give her bouquets of roses. I’ll turn Heartbreak Valley into Acres of Hope. She’ll respond like she did as a young girl, those days when she was fresh out of Egypt. * * *

“At that time”—this is God’s Message still— “you’ll address me, ‘Dear husband!’ Never again will you address me, ‘My slave-master!’ I’ll wash your mouth out with soap, get rid of all the dirty false-god names, not so much as a whisper of those names again. At the same time I’ll make a peace treaty between you and wild animals and birds and reptiles, And get rid of all weapons of war. Think of it! Safe from beasts and bullies! And then I’ll marry you for good—forever! I’ll marry you true and proper, in love and tenderness. Yes, I’ll marry you and neither leave you nor let you go. You’ll know me, God, for who I really am. * * *

“On the very same day, I’ll answer”—this is God’s Message— “I’ll answer the sky, sky will answer earth, Earth will answer grain and wine and olive oil, and they’ll all answer Jezreel. I’ll plant her in the good earth. I’ll have mercy on No-Mercy. I’ll say to Nobody, ‘You’re my dear Somebody,’ and he’ll say ‘You’re my God!’”

In Time They’ll Come Back

Then God ordered me, “Start all over: Love your wife again, your wife who’s in bed with her latest boyfriend, your cheating wife. Love her the way I, God, love the Israelite people, even as they flirt and party with every god that takes their fancy.”

No One Is Faithful

Attention all Israelites! God’s Message! God indicts the whole population: “No one is faithful. No one loves. No one knows the first thing about God. All this cussing and lying and killing, theft and loose sex, sheer anarchy, one murder after another! And because of all this, the very land itself weeps and everything in it is grief-stricken— animals in the fields and birds on the wing, even the fish in the sea are listless, lifeless. * * *

“But don’t look for someone to blame. No finger pointing! You, priest, are the one in the dock. You stumble around in broad daylight, And then the prophets take over and stumble all night. Your mother is as bad as you. My people are ruined because they don’t know what’s right or true. Because you’ve turned your back on knowledge, I’ve turned my back on you priests. Because you refuse to recognize the revelation of God, I’m no longer recognizing your children. The more priests, the more sin. They traded in their glory for shame. They pig out on my people’s sins. They can’t wait for the latest in evil. The result: You can’t tell the people from the priests, the priests from the people. I’m on my way to make them both pay and take the consequences of the bad lives they’ve lived. They’ll eat and be as hungry as ever, have sex and get no satisfaction. They walked out on me, their God, for a life of rutting with whores.

They Wouldn’t Recognize God If They Saw Him

“Listen to this, priests! Attention, people of Israel! Royal family—all ears! You’re in charge of justice around here. But what have you done? Exploited people at Mizpah, ripped them off on Tabor, Victimized them at Shittim. I’m going to punish the lot of you.

“I know you, Ephraim, inside and out. Yes, Israel, I see right through you! Ephraim, you’ve played your sex-and-religion games long enough. All Israel is thoroughly polluted. They couldn’t turn to God if they wanted to. Their evil life is a bad habit. Every breath they take is a whore’s breath. They wouldn’t recognize God if they saw me.

Despite All the Signs, Israel Ignores God

“Every time I gave Israel a fresh start, wiped the slate clean and got them going again, Ephraim soon filled the slate with new sins, the treachery of Samaria written out in bold print. Two-faced and double-tongued, they steal you blind, pick you clean. It never crosses their mind that I keep account of their every crime. They’re mud-spattered head to toe with the residue of sin. I see who they are and what they’ve done.

“Ephraim mingles with the pagans, dissipating himself. Ephraim is half-baked. Strangers suck him dry but he doesn’t even notice. His hair has turned gray— he doesn’t notice. Bloated by arrogance, big as a house, Israel’s a public disgrace. Israel lumbers along oblivious to God, despite all the signs, ignoring God.

Starved for God

Don’t waste your life in wild orgies, Israel. Don’t party away your life with the heathen. You walk away from your God at the drop of a hat and like a whore sell yourself promiscuously at every sex-and-religion party on the street. All that party food won’t fill you up. You’ll end up hungrier than ever. At this rate you’ll not last long in God’s land: Some of you are going to end up bankrupt in Egypt. Some of you will be disillusioned in Assyria. As refugees in Egypt and Assyria, you won’t have much chance to worship God— Sentenced to rations of bread and water, and your souls polluted by the spirit-dirty air. You’ll be starved for God, exiled from God’s own country. Will you be homesick for the old Holy Days? Will you miss festival worship of God? Be warned! When you escape from the frying pan of disaster, you’ll fall into the fire of Egypt. Egypt will give you a fine funeral! What use will all your god-inspired silver be then as you eke out a living in a field of weeds? * * *

Time’s up. Doom’s at the doorstep. It’s payday! Did Israel bluster, “The prophet is crazy! The ‘man of the Spirit’ is nuts!”? Think again. Because of your great guilt, you’re in big trouble. The prophet is looking out for Ephraim, working under God’s orders. But everyone is trying to trip him up. He’s hated right in God’s house, of all places. The people are going from bad to worse, rivaling that ancient and unspeakable crime at Gibeah. God’s keeping track of their guilt. He’ll make them pay for their sins.

“All their evil came out into the open at the pagan shrine at Gilgal. Oh, how I hated them there! Because of their evil practices, I’ll kick them off my land. I’m wasting no more love on them. Their leaders are a bunch of rebellious adolescents. Ephraim is hit hard— roots withered, no more fruit. Even if by some miracle they had children, the dear babies wouldn’t live—I’d make sure of that!”

You Thought You Could Do It All on Your Own

Israel was once a lush vine, bountiful in grapes. The more lavish the harvest, the more promiscuous the worship. The more money they got, the more they squandered on gods-in-their-own-image. Their sweet smiles are sheer lies. They’re guilty as sin. God will smash their worship shrines, pulverize their god-images.

The people of Samaria travel over to Crime City to worship the golden calf-god. They go all out, prancing and hollering, taken in by their showmen priests. They act so important around the calf-god, but are oblivious to the sham, the shame. They have plans to take it to Assyria, present it as a gift to the great king. And so Ephraim makes a fool of himself, disgraces Israel with his stupid idols.

Samaria is history. Its king is a dead branch floating down the river. Israel’s favorite sin centers will all be torn down. Thistles and crabgrass will decorate their ruined altars. Then they’ll say to the mountains, “Bury us!” and to the hills, “Fall on us!”

You got your start in sin at Gibeah— that ancient, unspeakable, shocking sin— And you’ve been at it ever since. And Gibeah will mark the end of it in a war to end all the sinning. I’ll come to teach them a lesson. Nations will gang up on them, Making them learn the hard way the sum of Gibeah plus Gibeah.

Ephraim was a trained heifer that loved to thresh. Passing by and seeing her strong, sleek neck, I wanted to harness Ephraim, Put Ephraim to work in the fields— Judah plowing, Jacob harrowing: Sow righteousness, reap love. It’s time to till the ready earth, it’s time to dig in with God, Until he arrives with righteousness ripe for harvest. But instead you plowed wicked ways, reaped a crop of evil and ate a salad of lies. You thought you could do it all on your own, flush with weapons and manpower. But the volcano of war will erupt among your people. All your defense posts will be leveled As viciously as king Shalman leveled the town of Beth-arba, When mothers and their babies were smashed on the rocks. That’s what’s ahead for you, you so-called people of God, because of your off-the-charts evil. Some morning you’re going to wake up and find Israel, king and kingdom, a blank—nothing.

“I’m still your God, the God who saved you out of Egypt. I’m the only real God you’ve ever known. I’m the one and only God who delivers. I took care of you during the wilderness hard times, those years when you had nothing. I took care of you, took care of all your needs, gave you everything you needed. You were spoiled. You thought you didn’t need me. You forgot me.

“I’ll charge them like a lion, like a leopard stalking in the brush. I’ll jump them like a sow grizzly robbed of her cubs. I’ll rip out their guts. Coyotes will make a meal of them. Crows will clean their bones. I’m going to destroy you, Israel. Who is going to stop me? Where is your trusty king you thought would save you? Where are all the local leaders you wanted so badly? All these rulers you insisted on having, demanding, ‘Give me a king! Give me leaders!’? Well, long ago I gave you a king, but I wasn’t happy about it. Now, fed up, I’ve gotten rid of him. I have a detailed record of your infidelities— Ephraim’s sin documented and stored in a safe-deposit box.

If you want to live well, make sure you understand all of this. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll learn this inside and out. God’s paths get you where you want to go. Right-living people walk them easily; wrong-living people are always tripping and stumbling.