Walking Humbly With Your God

Text: Micah 6:1-8

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

            The courtroom is assembled and the Judge walks in. The bailiff, a prophet by the name of Micah, announces, “Arise, plead your case before the mountains, and let the hills hear your voice.” The Lord, who is not only Judge, but also plaintiff, begins, “O my people, what have I done to you? How have I wearied you? Answer me! For I brought you up out of the land of Egypt and redeemed you from the house of slavery, and I sent before you Moses, Aaron, and Miriam.” And what had Israel done in return? Chased after every idol of every nation around them.

            So Israel asked what would be required to make things right. “With what shall I come before the Lord,” they asked from the defendant’s seat, “Shall I come before Him with burnt offerings?” That was the usual payment required for sin. “With calves a year old?”—the sacrifices for a special occasion. Or maybe it would need to be something enormous, so they ask, “Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams?” Or would it require a sacrifice unimaginable in scope, “With ten thousand rivers of oil?” Would their payment need to be something unthinkable, “Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?” “What would have us do?” Israel cries out in the court before the Judge of the living and the dead, “What do you want from us?”

            But it’s not a secret. It never has been. So the prophet Micah answers them, “He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” The answer is not in Israel’s sacrifices, however common and rote or grandiose and dramatic. The answer is not in what they are offering to God, not in the works of their hands. The answer is in the attitudes of their hearts, the disposition of their souls, the posture of their faith. Do justice, the Lord tells them—see clearly and act wisely, bringing order and peace to the world descended in chaos and wickedness, standing the orphan and the widow and all those who are squeezed for every drop of what the powerful can get out of them. Love kindness—don’t just do the right thing because you have to, but truly love mercy, have your heart in it. Walk humbly with your God—this is not a bartering table with the Lord, where each tries to get the upper hand; nor is it an intrigue-filled king’s palace with members of the court trying to one up and get status over the others. He has told you, O man, that these are the things He wants of you.

            But Israel’s problem is ours. We also seek God’s favor, His rewards, because of what we do. We want to be able to make everything perfect with Him through our sacrifices, our works. We want to be able to hold up a timesheet and tell Him, “This is what I’ve done for you. Don’t I deserve something now?” We want to offer up our self-justifications for why those commandments don’t apply to us: why we don’t have to do justice, at least not to that person; why we don’t have to love mercy and kindness, at least not to them, and definitely not when we’re having a bad day or not getting our way; we don’t have to walk humbly—we’ve earned our status, our position, our rank, and we’re going to take full advantage of it. We want to engage in petty bartering, trading, and promising to God that if we just get this out of Him, then we’ll gladly give Him that. And yet, even while we fail at all of that, even when our defense rings a little too closely to ancient Israel’s, the command still stands: “He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”

            This is the season of Epiphany, when we come to see our God in clearer and clearer light, sharpening our focus on who He is and what He wants. You know what He wants—He’s said it in plain terms. And you think you know who He is: all-powerful, free to do whatever He wills, threatening His enemies, to be feared. And that’s true—but it’s not the whole truth. Yes, God is all those great and glorious and terrifying things, but He is also something else. It’s hidden right there in the Micah reading, but we were too focused on what we’re doing to catch it. He tells you to walk humbly with your God.

            Your God is walking humbly, and that is why He tells you to do the same, so you can be with Him. Your God does justice, and when you walk with Him that’s what you’ll do too. Your God loves mercy, and thank Him forever for that, for He has shown limitless mercy to you, and the mercy He loves to show you will overflow to those around you.

            Your God walks in humility, in meekness. He did it when He took on flesh and was born as a helpless infant. He did it when He had to be whisked away to Egypt out of Herod’s grasp by a carpenter and his young bride. He walked humbly on the shores of the Sea of Galilee and through the streets of Nazareth and Capernaum. He walked in meekness, not even opening His mouth to defend Himself before false accusations and ridicule, as He carried His cross up Calvary. Now this will shock and perhaps even offend us. It certainly shocks, offends, and even baffles the world. Or, as St. Paul put it, “The word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing.” The cross is foolishness to those who think and act high-handedly. A God who dies? Weakness. Victory through death? Pointless at best. But those to those who are living under the mercy of our God who walked humbly through this fallen world in order to redeem it through enormous, extravagant, and even unthinkable sacrifice; to those of us who see the sacrifice He offers instead of us—even the sacrifice of the only-begotten beloved Son of God—to us, this weakness, this humility, is the power of God.

            So Jesus tells us: Look not to visible power or shows of force. Don’t listen to the arguments of the world because they seem wise to your ears (they’re probably just telling you what you already want to hear anyway). Don’t be impressed with seeing glorious sacrifice and shiny works and shows of piety that the world—or your own fallen nature—wants to parade around. Instead, hear your Lord: “Blessed are the poor in spirit…Blessed are the meek…Blessed are the merciful…Blessed are the peacemakers…Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” This—the Beatitudes from the lips of Jesus—this is what walking with the God who has been made flesh and humbly dwelt among us looks like. This is clinging to the justice He accomplished on the cross, paying what we owed and giving us what was His. This is loving His mercy so that it shines through you to others. You know, O believer, what is good, for it is what He Himself has done for you. In the name of Jesus, who is humility. Amen.