But I am Yahweh your Elohim since the land of Mitsrayim, and an Elohim besides Me you shall not know, for there is no Saviour besides Me. Hosea 13:4 TS2009
He who understands the meaning of this sentence is indeed a theologian, and he who can dive into its fullness is a true master in Israel, for it contains within it the condensed essence of the entire message of deliverance proclaimed by Yeshua the Messiah, our Redeemer and Living Word. The sentence hinges on one radiant jewel — the word “freely.” This is the axis upon which the wheel of divine love turns, the very pulse of heaven flowing into the veins of creation. To grasp it is to glimpse the boundless compassion of Elohim, who, being perfect in love, gives not out of compulsion, calculation, or reciprocity, but out of His own everlasting nature. Love streams downward like sunlight unbought and unearned, warming the hearts of those who neither sought nor merited it. It is spontaneous, self-existent, and utterly pure — the only kind of love worthy of the Creator. “I will love them freely,” declares YHVH through the prophet Hosea, not because we are worthy, but because He is love itself. If any worthiness or preparation were demanded of us, favour would cease to be favour. It would become an exchange, a transaction, a distortion of the everlasting gift. Yet the covenant of favour knows no conditions, no qualifications of the flesh or intellect — only the receptive stillness of the soul that dares to believe.
In this divine mystery, the Gospel of Thomas whispers its hidden wisdom: “If those who lead you say to you, ‘See, the kingdom is in the sky,’ then the birds of the sky will precede you. If they say to you, ‘It is in the sea,’ then the fish will precede you. But the kingdom is within you and it is outside you.” The free love of Elohim is not waiting beyond the clouds or locked behind temple doors — it is the everlasting pulse within the heart, the living current of divine consciousness that asks nothing but recognition. When Yeshua spoke of belief, He spoke of awakening — of realizing that the fountain of divine favour is already flowing in the soul. It is not earned through ritual or reason but awakened through remembrance. “He who drinks from My mouth,” says the Master in the gospel of Thomas, “will become as I am; and I myself will become he, and the hidden things shall be revealed to him.” The one who drinks freely of divine love becomes love itself, reflecting heaven into the world. Thus, the greatest theologian is not the one who explains the mystery but the one who embodies it — who walks in the quiet confidence that the Creator’s favor rests upon him unconditionally.
When the soul despairs — “Elohim, my heart is hard; I do not feel my need of You” — the answer of grace still resounds: “I will love you freely.” It is in our hardness that His compassion softens; in our blindness that His light opens the eyes; in our rebellion that His arms extend still. The covenant of love does not waver with our weakness but transcends it. For when we are faithless, He remains faithful. The Gospel of Thomas teaches that the true light shines in the place where there is no shadow, and it cannot be quenched by the night. So, too, does divine love reach even the most fallen, whispering through the darkness, “Return, and I will heal your backsliding.” The soul that has wandered far finds no locked door upon return — only the outstretched arms of the Father saying, “I will love you freely.” And when such love is truly seen, not as doctrine but as living reality, it breaks the heart of stone and turns it to flesh. The backslider, the broken, the doubter — all are called to rest in the generosity of that promise. For the kingdom is not built by striving but by surrender; not earned by worth but received in humility. In that revelation lies freedom, for to know that you are loved freely by the Creator is to awaken to the Kingdom already within — and that, indeed, is mastery in Israel.