Redeemed by Relentless Grace

Hosea 3

Hosea lived in dark days. His was a time when the people of God had traded the light of His truth for the shadows of sin. But church, let’s not pretend for a second that his days were the only dark ones. We are walking through some of the darkest days we’ve ever seen. The moral compass of our culture is broken. The light of God’s Word is pushed to the margins, while sin and rebellion are celebrated right in the spotlight.

Just look around. Truth is now seen as “your truth” or “my truth” instead of the truth. People will fight for their right to define marriage, gender, and even life itself in ways that are completely upside down from God’s design. Our children are being discipled more by social media than by Scripture. Addiction is on the rise. Suicide is at heartbreaking levels. Families are fractured. Churches are closing their doors. We live in a day where darkness doesn’t just creep in quietly—it parades itself down Main Street and dares anyone to say otherwise.

And yet—just like in Hosea’s day—God’s Word still shines. The book of Hosea is like a floodlight cutting through the fog. It is the proclamation of God into a dark culture, and it is just as necessary today as it was then. Hosea’s family crisis served as a living sermon, showing Israel what their sin had done to their covenant with God. And in chapter three, the Lord uses Hosea’s marriage to preach His relentless, redeeming love to a people stumbling around in the dark.

Let’s go back for a moment. In the very second verse of Hosea, God gives His prophet a command that had to be gut-wrenching: “Go, take to yourself a wife of whoredom and have children of whoredom.” That wasn’t just a hard word—it was a humiliating one. And yet Hosea obeyed. He married a woman named Gomer. Now, that name may sound odd to our ears—we think of Gomer Pyle and “Shazam!”—but in Hosea’s day, it was simply a woman’s name.

The problem wasn’t her name; it was her character. Gomer was unfaithful. She sold herself, sometimes literally for payment. She stepped out on her husband time and again. Hosea had to live with the heartbreak of a wife who broke her vows and betrayed her love.

And here’s the point—God uses Hosea’s marriage as a living illustration of Israel’s relationship with Him. Just as Gomer ran after other lovers, Israel ran after other gods. Just as she chased temporary pleasures, Israel chased idols and alliances that couldn’t save. Chapter 2 spells it out: Gomer was paid for her unfaithfulness. Israel was doing the same spiritually.

But then comes the shocking twist of grace—chapter 3. God tells Hosea to love her still. Go again. Bring her back. Show covenant love to an unfaithful wife. Why? Because that’s exactly what God was doing for His unfaithful people. Hosea’s marriage was a mirror of the covenant: Israel’s sin was great, but God’s steadfast love was greater still.

Lets read chapter 3 and take a deep dive into it in our time together

Hosea 3 ESV

And the Lord said to me, “Go again, love a woman who is loved by another man and is an adulteress, even as the Lord loves the children of Israel, though they turn to other gods and love cakes of raisins.” So I bought her for fifteen shekels of silver and a homer and a lethech of barley. And I said to her, “You must dwell as mine for many days. You shall not play the whore, or belong to another man; so will I also be to you.” For the children of Israel shall dwell many days without king or prince, without sacrifice or pillar, without ephod or household gods. Afterward the children of Israel shall return and seek the Lord their God, and David their king, and they shall come in fear to the Lord and to his goodness in the latter days.

Pray

God Offers a Relationship to All People

Hosea chapter 3 opens with this word: “And the LORD said to me, ‘Go again, love a woman who is loved by another man and is an adulteress, even as the LORD loves the children of Israel, though they turn to other gods and love cakes of raisins’” (Hos. 3:1, ESV).

Now that detail about “cakes of raisins” might sound strange to us. In some places in the Old Testament, those raisin cakes were used in legitimate worship. For example, David handed them out when the ark was brought to Jerusalem (2 Sam. 6:19; 1 Chr. 16:3). But at the same time, those same raisin cakes became part of the pagan rituals of the Canaanites (Jer. 7:18; 44:19). And that’s what Israel had fallen in love with. They weren’t just nibbling on a snack—they were feasting on idolatry. Their hearts were chasing other gods.

And yet—don’t miss this—God still sought them. The text says plainly: “the LORD loves the children of Israel.” They were running after idols, bowing down to false gods, participating in pagan worship, but God still extended His love. That’s the scandal of grace. He was offering sinners—undeserving, wandering, rebellious sinners—a relationship with Himself.

Now, we’ve got to be careful here. Israel didn’t somehow “lose” their worth along the way. The truth is—they never had it to begin with. God didn’t love Israel because they were great, or numerous, or powerful. In fact, God goes out of His way in Deuteronomy to remind them of this. “It was not because you were more in number than any other people that the LORD set his love on you and chose you, for you were the fewest of all peoples, but it is because the LORD loves you and is keeping the oath that he swore to your fathers” (Deut. 7:7–8, ESV).

Why did He love them? Because He loved them. That’s it. His love wasn’t drawn out by anything in them. It was anchored in Him. His covenant, His promise, His steadfast heart. The merit wasn’t in Israel—it was in God. And church, that’s good news for us. Because the same thing is true today.

God’s love for Israel reminds us of something we must never forget: the relationship God calls us into is a relationship of love. All through the book of Hosea, God drives that point home by comparing His covenant with His people to marriage—a union that is meant to be grounded in love. From the beginning, God called Israel to love Him back. In Deuteronomy 6:5, He told them plainly: “You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might.”

And here in Hosea 3:1 we hear it again: “And the LORD said to me, ‘Go again, love a woman who is loved by another man and is an adulteress, even as the LORD loves the children of Israel, though they turn to other gods and love cakes of raisins.’” God reiterates His love. Though Israel was chasing idols, God’s heart remained set on His people.

But don’t miss this—God’s love for Israel was always meant to be a picture of something bigger. Just as Hosea’s marriage became a living illustration of God’s love for His people, so Israel’s relationship with God illustrates the love He offers to all people. Not just one nation. Not just one group. All people.

Jesus makes this clear: “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16). The scope of God’s love is the whole world. And Paul echoes that in Romans 5:8: “But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” God’s love is not a response to our worthiness—it’s a declaration of His mercy.

Now, here’s where many people stumble. They hear about God’s judgment of sin and His call to holiness, and they turn away. They decide they don’t want a God who punishes sin or demands obedience. But the Bible never hides the fact that He is holy and just. What it also makes crystal clear is that He is loving—and His love is not cold or distant. He wants us to walk with Him in a relationship of love.

Scripture uses image after image to show us this. He loves us as a Father loves His children. He cares for us as a shepherd cares for His sheep. He provides for us as a farmer tends to His field. And yes, He loves us as a husband loves his bride. The consistent testimony of God’s Word is that He desires to pour out His love on us and invite us into a relationship that is personal, covenantal, and eternal.

That’s the heart of Hosea 3. God offers a relationship of love to all people—even those who have been unfaithful.

The relationship God offers to all people is not casual or flimsy—it’s a covenant relationship. Hosea’s marriage was a covenant. Malachi 2:14 says plainly: “The LORD was witness between you and the wife of your youth, to whom you have been faithless, though she is your companion and your wife by covenant.” That same covenant framework is what God had established with Israel. He made a covenant with Abraham, reaffirmed it through Moses, and confirmed it again with David. Just like Hosea and Gomer’s marriage, Israel’s relationship with God was a covenant relationship.

Now, Gomer was unfaithful to her covenant vows, but the marriage covenant still stood. Israel had been unfaithful to God, but His covenant with them had not been canceled. That’s grace.

In Israel’s world, covenants came in two basic forms. There were parity covenants—agreements between equals, where the obligations and benefits were shared equally. And then there were suzerainty covenants—agreements between a greater power and a lesser one, where the greater party set the terms, and the lesser party was bound to obey. The blessings flowed only as the terms were kept.

Marriage was meant to be a covenant between equals, but Hosea and Gomer weren’t equals morally. Her life of prostitution made that covenant lopsided. And that imbalance paints the bigger picture: God’s covenant with His people is not a deal struck between equals. Far from it. God is forever the greater party. The covenant He extends to His people is one of grace, not negotiation.

That’s why Paul erupts in worship when he considers God’s covenant mercy. In Romans 11:33–36, he writes: “Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways! ‘For who has known the mind of the Lord, or who has been his counselor?’ ‘Or who has given a gift to him that he might be repaid?’ For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen.”

That’s the right response. When we think about God’s covenant love, we shouldn’t shrug—we should marvel. Because the truth is, God doesn’t need us. He says in Psalm 50:12: “If I were hungry, I would not tell you, for the world and its fullness are mine.”

And yet—this God, the Creator of the universe, offers a covenant relationship to sinful, undeserving people. He loves, He pursues, He binds Himself to His people in covenant grace. May we never get over that.

God Sets Us From Sin.

Hosea’s wife had to be set free. She had run so far, sunk so low, that she ended up on the auction block. Hosea 3:2 says, “So I bought her for fifteen shekels of silver and a homer and a lethech of barley.”

Can you picture the scene? Maybe somebody came up to Hosea one day and said, “Preacher, I just came from the marketplace. I saw your wife. She’s being sold as a slave.” Imagine that gut-punch. The man of God walking into town, surrounded by the whispers of the crowd, to buy back his own unfaithful wife.

The bidding starts. Five shekels. Ten. Twelve. Thirteen. Hosea raises his voice—fifteen shekels of silver. Another man shouts, “Fifteen and a homer of barley!” Hosea comes back, “Fifteen shekels of silver and a homer and a lethech of barley.” The gavel falls. “Sold—to Hosea.”

What humiliation for him. What shame for her. And yet—what a picture of redeeming love.

Now, Hosea and Gomer are the focus of this story, because their marriage is the living parable of God’s covenant with Israel. But don’t miss the figures in the background. The men who used her. The men who sold her. The men who treated her as merchandise rather than as a woman made in the image of God. Yes, Gomer’s sin was real. Her unfaithfulness was tragic. But so was theirs. The book of Hosea doesn’t excuse them, and neither should we. The exploitation of women for profit or pleasure has always been sin in the eyes of God.

Here’s the greater point—Hosea paid the price to redeem his bride. And in doing so, he put on display the heart of God, who pays the ultimate price to redeem His people. Israel had chased idols. We’ve chased our own sins. But just like Hosea walked into that marketplace to buy back his wife, Jesus Christ walked up Calvary’s hill to purchase us with His own blood.

So Hosea went and brought his wife home. That’s covenant love. Loving the unworthy. Staying faithful to the unfaithful. And he didn’t love her like that because he just felt like it—he loved her like that because God told him to. He had seen God’s covenant love for His people, and he lived it out.

Now, when I read Hosea 3, my mind goes to the deep theology of a certain country philosopher. A 1900s country theologian, if you will—Trace Adkins. He wrote that great hymn, “Every Light in the House Is On.” The whole song is about a man waiting for his wife who walked away. He says, “I’ve got every light in the house on, just in case you ever do come back.”

Hopefully that guy, doesn’t live in Jacksonville and deal with JEA or He will have to take out a second mortgage just to pay for that bill. But his point was clear: “I’m not giving up. If you ever turn back, you’ll know where to find me.”

That’s Hosea. That’s covenant love. That’s the love of God. He doesn’t leave the porch light on—He doesn’t even leave every light on. He makes a way back. He doesn’t just tell you to find Him—He comes and finds you.

That’s what the cross is, church. God didn’t say, “If you ever wander back, maybe I’ll forgive you.” He sent Jesus to come buy us back, redeem us, and bring us home.

Like Hosea’s wife, like Israel, we too have sinned. And sin doesn’t just dirty us—it enslaves us. Jesus said in John 8:34, “Truly, truly, I say to you, everyone who practices sin is a slave to sin.” That’s the reality. Sin chains us up.

But here’s the good news—just as Hosea purchased his wife and set her free, God has purchased us and set us free. That’s what the New Testament means when it talks about being “redeemed” or “ransomed.” The word literally means “to set free from slavery by a payment.”

1 Peter 1:18–19 tells us, “You were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your forefathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot.”

Hosea paid silver and barley. God paid with the blood of His own Son. At the cross, Jesus gave His life as the payment to rescue us from sin and reconcile us to God. Paul says in Colossians 2:14, “By canceling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands. This he set aside, nailing it to the cross.” The debt of our sin was nailed to Calvary. It’s gone.

That’s why Paul could write in 1 Corinthians 6:19–20, “You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body.” You’ve been purchased. You’ve been set free.

But don’t miss this—Hosea had to endure humiliation to buy back his wife. Jesus endured the cross to buy back His bride. Our redemption cost Him everything.

Now here’s the tragedy—the enemy whispers one of his biggest lies: that living for yourself is freedom, and living for Jesus is slavery. And so many people believe it. But the truth is exactly the opposite. Life under sin is slavery. Life in Christ is freedom. Jesus said in John 10:10, “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.”

Hosea’s wife probably thought she was chasing freedom—freedom from her covenant vows, freedom to live how she wanted. But the freedom she thought she was finding led her straight into slavery. And that’s what sin always does. It promises life but delivers chains.

Israel needed to return to the God who truly loved them. Hosea’s wife needed to return to the husband who still loved her. And today, so many people need to return to the One who loves them infinitely more than they realize—Jesus Christ. Because only in Him is real freedom found.

Maybe Hosea’s wife can be compared to Maggie Carpenter, Julia Roberts’s character in Runaway Bride. Maggie was known for leaving men at the altar. Time and again, she walked away from men who loved her. She kept running, never really able to give or receive love.

And yet, Ike Graham—played by Richard Gere—wouldn’t give up on her. Even when she ran, even when she bolted, he kept pursuing her. And finally, Maggie’s running wore her down. She realized the problem wasn’t that love wasn’t offered—it was that she couldn’t receive it.

That’s not just Maggie’s story. That’s ours. The one constant in this world is the love of God. But so often, like Maggie, like Gomer, like Israel, we run from it. We chase other loves. We leave the One who truly loves us waiting at the altar.

But here’s the difference. In the movie, it takes Maggie time to figure it out. With God, His love is already settled. He’s already pursued us. He’s already paid the price. Romans 5:8 says, “But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”

So we pray for those who are still running—that one day they’ll stop, turn, and realize the love they’ve been chasing was standing there all along in Jesus.

God Requires Exclusive Worship

Hosea 3:3–4

In Hosea 3, God gives us another parallel between Hosea’s marriage and His covenant with Israel. Hosea looks at his wife and says, “You must dwell as mine for many days. You shall not play the whore, or belong to another man; so will I also be to you” (Hos. 3:3). Then the parallel comes in the very next verse: “For the children of Israel shall dwell many days without king or prince, without sacrifice or pillar, without ephod or household gods” (Hos. 3:4).

Do you see the connection? Hosea’s wife had broken her marriage covenant by running after other men. Israel had broken her covenant with God by running after kings and princes for protection instead of trusting in the Lord. Worse still, they filled their homes with household idols—little statues of pagan gods—and even used ephods and sacred pillars to try and divine the will of false gods. But God had already said in His law that He hates those pillars (Deut. 16:22) and commanded His people to destroy them (Deut. 7:5; 12:3).

The point of these verses is that God was going to strip Israel of her idols. Just like Hosea cut his wife off from her lovers, God was going to cut His people off from their false worship. Why? Because marriage is exclusive, and so is worship. Just as a husband and wife belong only to one another, so God’s people belong only to Him.

That’s why the very first commandment God gave His people was this: “You shall have no other gods before me” (Exod. 20:3). And the second commandment presses it even further: “You shall not make for yourself a carved image… You shall not bow down to them or serve them, for I the LORD your God am a jealous God” (Exod. 20:4–5).

Church, God doesn’t share His glory. He doesn’t share His worship. He doesn’t tolerate rivals. He calls for exclusive devotion—because He alone is worthy.

The word translated “jealous” in the Bible refers to a deep, fervent emotion. It’s the same word used of a husband’s jealousy for his wife (Prov. 6:34) or the burning love between a bride and groom (Song of Solomon 8:6). That’s the picture—God has that kind of burning passion for our loyalty and devotion to Him (Zeph. 1:18; 3:8). His jealousy isn’t petty—it’s holy zeal for our hearts.

And here’s the point—adultery and idolatry are not just rule-breaking. They’re personal. Yes, they violate God’s commands, but more than that, they betray a Person. They wound the heart of the One who is supposed to be loved above all. That’s true in marriage, and it’s true in our covenant with God. To worship anyone or anything other than Him is to grieve Him. It’s betrayal. It stirs His holy jealousy.

Now, we may not be bowing down to carved statues today, but the sin of idolatry is alive and well—even among followers of Jesus. Because idolatry is anytime something or someone takes the place only God should have in our lives. Anytime what we want matters more than what God commands, we’re dealing with an idol.

Think about it. Working hard, getting a raise—that’s not idolatry. But when the company says, “To take this promotion you’ll have to be gone every Sunday, you’ll be away from your family constantly,” you’ve got to ask: What’s most important? Am I going to let career sit on the throne of my life, or God?

Sports aren’t idolatry either. Playing ball, watching the Gators, cheering your team on—it can be good fun. But if you add up the hours we pour into sports and compare them with the time we spend in God’s Word, in prayer, in worship, in service—you might discover there’s an idol in your heart.

The issue is this: God requires exclusive worship. Not divided affection. Not half-hearted devotion. He says in Exodus 20:3–5, “You shall have no other gods before me. You shall not make for yourself a carved image… You shall not bow down to them or serve them, for I the LORD your God am a jealous God.”

God’s not content with second place in your life. His holy jealousy burns for you to love Him with all your heart, all your soul, and all your might.

God Promises Full Restoration

Hosea 3:5

In verse 3, God told Israel they would live “many days” without their idols. In verse 4, He repeated it: “many days.” But then in verse 5, He shifts the timeline forward: “Afterward the children of Israel shall return and seek the LORD their God, and David their king, and they shall come in fear to the LORD and to his goodness in the latter days” (Hos. 3:5).

Hosea doesn’t give us the exact timing. What he does give us is the promise. And the promise is clear—God’s people will be restored. They will turn from sin and return to Him. They will seek the Lord with undivided hearts. Their fellowship with God will no longer be broken by idolatry or rebellion.

And notice—they won’t just seek God, they’ll seek “David their king.” By Hosea’s day, David had been dead for centuries. So this isn’t about David himself. This is about David’s greater Son—the Messiah. The New Testament makes it crystal clear: Jesus is the promised descendant of David, the King who reigns forever (Acts 13:22–23).

So here’s the hope Hosea is pointing us to: one day, God’s people will experience full restoration. Freedom from sin. Fellowship with God. Worship unhindered. The joy of His presence forever.

One day, God’s people will experience the greatest homecoming of all.

That’s the promise of Hosea 3:5: “Afterward the children of Israel shall return and seek the LORD their God, and David their king, and they shall come in fear to the LORD and to his goodness in the latter days.”

It’s like coming home after being gone too long. You’ve wandered, you’ve chased other things, you’ve made a mess of it all—and yet when you finally return, the lights are on, the door is open, and the Father is waiting with arms wide.

Think about the story of the prodigal son in Luke 15. The boy had wasted everything. He’d chased pleasure, squandered his inheritance, and ended up in a pigpen. Finally, broken and desperate, he said, “I will arise and go to my father.” And what did he find? Not a closed door. Not crossed arms. Not condemnation. He found a father running toward him, wrapping him in an embrace, and throwing a feast in his honor.

That’s exactly the picture Hosea points us to. Israel would come back. God’s people would be restored. And in Christ, that promise is ours. The Son of David has come—His name is Jesus—and He’s the one who brings us home.

One day, every person who belongs to Jesus will be part of that great homecoming, fully restored in the presence of God forever. And that invitation is open to you today.

Centuries ago, there was a man named John Newton. Newton grew up running from God, chasing sin wherever it would take him. He became the captain of a slave ship, living a life as far from God as a man could run. He was a blasphemer, a drunkard, and by his own admission, “a wretch.”

One night, caught in a violent storm at sea, Newton thought he was going to die. In desperation, he cried out to the God he had spent his whole life mocking. And in that moment, God broke through. Newton later described it as the night he first believed. He would eventually leave the slave trade, become a pastor, and preach Christ for decades. And from his pen came one of the most famous hymns ever written:

“Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost, but now am found; was blind, but now I see.”

Newton’s story is Hosea’s story. It’s Israel’s story. And it’s our story. Like Gomer, we’ve been unfaithful. Like Israel, we’ve chased idols. Like Newton, we’ve been enslaved to sin. But God’s redeeming love wouldn’t let us go.

Just as Hosea bought back his wife, God paid the ultimate price to redeem us. “You were ransomed… not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ” (1 Pet. 1:18–19).

That’s the gospel. Jesus died and rose again so sinners could be forgiven, reconciled, and given new life. Don’t turn away from that love. Come home to Him today.