Each photo below corresponds to a chapter-a-day post for the book of Hosea published by Tom Vander Well in November 2023. Click on the photo linked to each chapter to read the post.
You’re all caught up! Posts will be added as they are published.


Each photo below corresponds to a chapter-a-day post for the book of Hosea published by Tom Vander Well in November 2023. Click on the photo linked to each chapter to read the post.
You’re all caught up! Posts will be added as they are published.


“Ephraim is like a dove,
easily deceived and senseless—
now calling to Egypt,
now turning to Assyria.”
Hosea 7:11 (NIV)
Wendy and I live on the outskirts of our little town with a giant field behind us. As such, we get to enjoy a proximity to wildlife that can be both beautiful and annoying. As we have our morning coffee and smoothies, we often get to enjoy the sight of wild turkeys grazing in our backyard. We’ve heard the eerie sound of coyotes and their kits on the hunt in the evenings. And, the fire bushes we’ve twice planted along our back fence row have struggled to survive because the deer consider them a tasty snack.
Just last week we were driving home late in the evening and came upon a gorgeous eight-point buck. We see does, fawns, and yearlings on a regular basis, but it’s extremely rare for a male to show himself.
The following morning, we were on our way into town and it suddenly became clear why the male had been so bold to show himself. As we were driving, a doe shot across the road about ten yard ahead of us running at full speed and paying no heed to the fact our car was right there. I hit the brakes as the same buck we’d seen the night before lustfully tore after the doe.
“I know what he’s after,” Wendy exclaimed. We giggled and watched as the buck pursued and the doe did her best to evade him through the field on the other side of the road and into the tree line.
In today’s chapter, Hosea uses a stealthy double entendre describing the rulers of ancient Israel. The prophet describes them in culinary terms as “burning like an oven whose fire the baker need not stir.” He writes that they are “inflamed with wine” and “hot as an oven.” Of course, he’s describing the heat of passion. Their base appetites were out-of-control driving lustful behavior unbridled from reason.
It’s helpful to know a little history of ancient Israel to understand Hosea’s message. When the ancient kingdom of Israel split in two, the southern Kingdom of Judah continued to place on their throne direct descendants of King David. The northern Kingdom of Israel, however, had no such loyalties. The throne of Israel was constantly up for grabs to any bully or usurper who had a lust for power and the cunning to pull it off. Ten different dynastic “houses” ruled Israel in less than 300 years. As such, the kings and rulers of Israel tended to be self-centered tryants with a lust for power and wealth. Their children and their administrations were filled with similar ilk. These were not the type of men and women who were spiritually sensitive or possessed hearts of generosity, justice, and the things of God.
Hosea then describes these power-hungry, lust-driven rulers as easily deceived and senseless. They understood the blunt force power of being a local bully and seizing power of a relatively small kingdom, but when it came to the international diplomacy of dealing with empires, the seemingly endless string of usurpers were out of their league.
Hosea says,
“Ephraim is like a dove,
easily deceived and senseless—
now calling to Egypt,
now turning to Assyria.”
History records that Hoshea (not to be confused with Hosea), the last king of Israel, had made an alliance with the Assyrian empire. When, however, there was a change of leadership on the Assyrian throne, Hoshea followed his lusts and tried to cut a better deal with Egypt. The betrayal caused Assyria to make an example of disloyal Israel. Assyria attacked, destroyed, and took Israel into exile and captivity. Just as God predicted through Hosea, the heat of Israel’s unbridled appetites would be the achilles heel that would lead to her destruction and exile.
In the quiet this morning, I find myself bringing the national-level lessons of ancient Israel down to personal-level application.
My grandfather used to be fond of saying “I’m king of my castle,” and as I’ve made my way on this earthly journey I recognize the truth of the matter. I am ruler of my own personal kingdom. Just like the kings of Israel, I can rule over my kingdom like a buck in heat following my base appetites for wealth, power, control, and pleasure. I can also rule over my kingdom with love, reason, humility, generosity, and justice. For me, the difference has been the acknowledgement and understanding of who is really on the throne of my personal kingdom. Many years ago, I agreed to submit my own personal kingdom to the Lordship of Jesus and the Kingdom of God. That has made all the difference.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.


You brought a vine out of Egypt;
Psalm 80:8 (NRSVCE)
I have celebrated Christmas as a follower of Jesus for almost forty years, and I can tell you that the most forgotten storyline of the Christmas story is found in the second chapter of Matthew.
King Herod was the regional ruler operating under subservience to the Roman Empire. It was Herod to whom the Zoroastrians (that we call the “Three Kings” or “Magi”) went to find out where the Jewish Messiah was to be born. Herod got the answer for them and sent them on their way to Bethlehem. Herod was a blood-thirsty man, however. A shrewd monarch with boundless ambition, Herod’s successful reign was made possible in part by his ability to assassinate any rival. This included members of his own family.
Matthew shares that Herod, wanting to make sure the newborn Messiah would not grow up to threaten his worldly power, ordered all the baby boys in Bethlehem two years and under killed. Warned by an angel in a dream, Joseph and Mary flee with the baby to Egypt. When Herod died a few years later, they returned to Joseph in Nazareth.
In telling this piece of the story, Matthew quotes the prophet Hosea, who said: “Out of Egypt I have called my son” (Hosea 11:1). In my podcast A Beginner’s Guide to the Great Story (Part 7) I talked about prophecy and the fact that part of the mystery of the prophetic is that metaphor can be layered with meaning. Hosea was writing about the Hebrew exodus out of Egyptian slavery, but Matthew sees that Jesus, God’s son, was also called out of Egypt.
In today’s chapter, Psalm 80, we have a song of lament written somewhere around 725 BC. The Assyrians were attacking the northern kingdom of Israel. Refugees from the northern tribes were flowing into Jerusalem, and Asaph laments that God brought the nation out of Egypt and planted them in Canaan only to let foreign countries attack them. In this case, Asaph uses the metaphor of God bringing a vine out of Egypt only to let foreign powers like Assyria and Babylon pick “the fruit” of God’s hand.
As a follower of Jesus, I am immediately reminded of Jesus’ words to His most intimate followers the night before His crucifixion:
“I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you. Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.
“I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. If you do not remain in me, you are like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned. John 15:1-5 (NIV)
When Asaph writes his lyric: “You brought a vine out of Egypt” he was being as prophetic as Hosea was when quoted by Matthew, but here’s where I found added meaning in Asaph’s metaphor. Asaph metaphorically envisions that he and the fellow Hebrew tribes were the Vine. When Jesus came, Asaph’s misunderstanding becomes clear. Jesus is the Vine, and his followers are the branches. If you’re not connected to the Vine, then you get pruned back and cut-off.
The Hebrew prophets made it clear that the Hebrew people had disconnected themselves from God. They worshipped foreign gods and were unfaithful to the covenant they made through Moses. The prophets made it clear that the Assyrians and Babylonians were God’s pruning shears, because contrary to Asaph’s lyrics the only fruit left on those branches was rotten.
In the quiet this morning I wondered how often I, like Asaph, lament the fact that life isn’t going so well. I feel empty, depleted, and attacked like someone plucked everything from me when my real problem is the same as the Hebrews: I’m not connected to the Vine. There’s no spiritual nourishment flowing from the Living Water deep in the root structure. There’s no support from the Vine and no protection from the other branches. The fruit my life is bearing small, tasteless, impotent, even rotten.
As another Christmas approaches, I’m thinking about the least discussed event of that first Christmas. The Son of God, emptied of Heaven and dependent on a young mother, goes into exile in Egypt. Out of Egypt God will call His Son, the Vine. If I miss that connection, then I’m missing the Life, not only of the Christmas story, but the entire Great Story itself.


