Micah 6:1-8 (NIV)
Listen to what the LORD says:
" Stand up, plead your case before the mountains; let the hills hear what you have to say.
2 Hear, O mountains, the LORD's accusation; listen, you everlasting foundations of the earth. For the LORD has a case against his people; he is lodging a charge against Israel.
3 "My people, what have I done to you? How have I burdened you? Answer me.
4 I brought you up out of Egypt and redeemed you from the land of slavery. I sent Moses to lead you, also Aaron and Miriam.
5 My people, remember what Balak king of Moab counselled and what Balaam son of Beor answered. Remember your journey from Shittim to Gilgal, that you may know the righteous acts of the LORD."
6 With what shall I come before the LORD and bow down before the exalted God?
Shall I come before him with burnt offerings, with calves a year old?
7 Will the LORD be pleased with thousands of rams, with ten thousand rivers of oil?
Shall I offer my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?
8 He has showed you, O man, what is good.
And what does the LORD require of you?
To act justly and to love mercy
and to walk humbly with your God.
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It’s been said that one verse provides the essence of the Gospel—the good news—of Jesus in a nutshell.
That one verse is John 3:16:

“For God so loved the world that He sent His one and only Son that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.”

If you grasp this verse you can understand the Gospel.

This morning we find something of the same thing when it comes to discipleship—to understanding what it means to live our lives as Christians. This morning’s Scripture lesson offers one verse that really says it all:

Verse 8
He has showed you, O man, what is good.
And what does the LORD require of you?
To act justly and to love mercy
and to walk humbly with your God.

This special verse comes at the end of a passage that depicts a trial with Israel in the dock. The charge had to do with the way they understood their relationship with God. It had to do with how they understood what God expected of them.

The evidence began with sacrifices. Offering sacrifices for their sin was a large part of Israel’s religion. It was a way of expressing their sorrow and restoring their relationship with God. But over the generations it had become less and less meaningful. There was always the danger that, like anything that went on for a long time, the offering of sacrifices simply became part of a process without a lot of thought about what was really happening.

In the trial image Micah offered, God told of the many things God had done to care for them—provide for them—protect them—rescue them. The response from Israel to all that God had done was to offer more sacrifices. If one sacrifice was good then a thousand must be better. Ten thousand really showed how much they appreciated what God had done. Perhaps sacrificing children, as neighbouring countries did, would be even better!

But sacrifices weren’t what God desired from them. Sacrifices were external. All they cost was a bull here and a lamb there.

God was tired of the externals. God didn’t want things. God wanted the people themselves. God wanted their hearts and minds.

They had, of course, heard this before. They knew the sacrifices weren’t the be all and end all. But despite what they knew, they still concentrated on the external stuff—the safe stuff—the stuff that only cost them materially.

And so in one sentence—one incredibly compact but powerful sentence—God said what God required of those who would be God’s people. One short sentence made up of three very brief phrases.

What does God require?

Not things.

Instead:
“To act justly.
To love mercy.
And to walk humbly with your God.”

Let’s unpack those phrases a bit.

In doing so I’m indebted to the wording that James Limburg offers in the Interpretation Commentary on Micah.

Limburg writes about “doing, loving and walking.”

“To act justly—doing.”

This is action oriented.
God wants us to act—to do justice.

This requires an awareness, a concern, and a desire to help those who are treated unfairly in life.

It means compassion for the poor, the oppressed, the powerless, the isolated—all those in our community and our world who suffer from circumstances beyond their control.
It means taking a stand on issues that might put us up against the norms society has developed and wishes to protect.
It means accepting the fact that we may not change the world but we also can’t allow the world to continue along the way of people being subjected to racism, oppression, injustice, suffering and even death without us saying or doing something.

Doing justice isn’t easy.

It often isn’t something that provides a quick fix.
It isn’t something that is centred on the giver to provide a feel good experience.

Instead, it is centred very much on others—the needs and concerns of others. Often times others whom we won’t know very well, if at all. Others we might have difficulty relating to because our life situation is very different.

But we are to act justly.

We are to be instruments of fairness and compassion in our community and our world.
We are to be God’s instruments to bring voice to the cries of those who won’t be heard unless we speak up for them.
We are to be sharers of our resources and abundance.
We are to be examples of God’s care when those around us seek to ignore or take advantage of people.

In his book, “Holy Sweat”, Tim Hansel, tells of a guest preacher in a rather large church who began, "There are three points to my sermon." Most people yawned. They'd heard that many times before.
But he went on. "My first point is this. At this moment there are approximately two billion people starving to death in the world."
The reaction through the congregation was about the same, since they'd heard that sort of statement many times before, too.
And then he said, "My second point…" Everybody sat up. Only 10 or 15 seconds had passed, and he was already on his second point?
He paused, then said, "My second point is that most of you don't give a damn!"
He paused again as gasps and rumblings flowed across the congregation.
Then he said: "And my third point is that the real tragedy among Christians today is that many of you are now more concerned that I said 'damn' than you are that I said two billion people are starving to death."
He sat down. The whole sermon took less than a minute, but its power was unquestioned.

We are called to act justly—to give a damn about child poverty in Canada, sweatshops in Central America, AIDS in Africa, migrant farm workers in California and Leamington, people living with disabilities.

And sadly the list goes on and on and on and on.

It’s a daunting challenge but: what does God requires of us?
God requires us to act.
Doing.

And God requires us to love mercy.
Loving.

The word mercy here has been translated other places as kindness and steadfast love. Steadfast love is the most accurate translation.

This is about relationships.
Relationships that are loyal, loving, steadfast and enduring.

This is about making relationships work.

Again, as in doing justice, loving mercy is work—hard work.

It means investing in relationships and not allowing pettiness, selfishness, jealousy and pride to damage what we have.

This reflects the steadfast love God offers to us.

It is love without condition.
Love that sacrifices.
Love that is loyal.
Love that is dependable.
Love that doesn’t hold grudges.
Love that forgives.
Love that makes an investment and holds on.
Love that costs.
Love that honours the relationship.

Horror gripped the heart of the World War I soldier as he saw his friend fall in battle. Caught in a trench with gunfire whizzing over his head, the soldier asked his lieutenant if he might go out into the "No Man's Land" to bring his fallen comrade back.
" You can go," said the lieutenant, "but I don't think it will be worth it. Your friend is probably dead and you may throw your own life away." The lieutenant's words didn't matter. The soldier went anyway.
Miraculously he managed to reach his friend, hoist him onto his shoulder, and bring him back to their company's trench.
As the two of them tumbled in together to the bottom of the trench, the officer checked the wounded soldier, then looked kindly at his friend. "I told you it wouldn't be worth it," he said.
" It was worth it, though, Sir," the soldier said.
" How do you mean, 'worth it?' Your friend is dead!"
" Yes, Sir," the private answered. "But it was worth it because when I got to him, he was still alive, and I heard him say, 'Jim, I knew you'd come.'"

What does God require of us: to love with loyalty.

And finally: to walk humbly with your God.
Doing.
Loving.
And now walking.

Walking with God.
What a wonderful image!

God requires us—God wants us to walk with Him.

Walking, and specifically walking humbly, imply so many things.

There is the idea of a journey. When we are God’s person we don’t stand still. There is always someplace to go. Always some place to get to so we can be learning, growing, doing, loving.
Faith isn’t a stagnant thing. Faith moves us to places we may not always want to go. Faith is an exercise that builds up our spiritual muscles.

There is also the idea of a relationship with God. We walk with “our” God. We walk humbly as we proceed through life with the Lord. We don’t go out ahead and try to lead the way. We don’t set the pace. We don’t decide on our own which turn we’ll take. We walk beside God and there is a sense of togetherness—of unity. But we walk humbly implying we recognize God as the One we love and trust.

And, there is the idea of conversation. As we walk along, with God at our side, there is an ongoing opportunity to talk and listen. We bring our thoughts, concerns, requests, thanksgivings to the One who is beside us. And isn’t that what prayer is all about? Speaking and listening to the One who is always there.

Walking humbly also isn’t easy.
It takes effort.
It costs.

And so we are reminded again that what God requires of us isn’t going to be a comfortable, self-centred, self-satisfied, “what’s in it for me” kind of life.

A League Of Their Own was a movie based on the female major-league baseball teams of the 1940's. In one of the most powerful scenes in the movie, the star catcher of the Rockford Peaches, played by Geena Davis, threatens to quit. She's tired; she's worn out; she's worried about her husband who has gone to war; and in a low moment, she is ready to "throw in the towel." This star catcher, by far the best player in the league, complains that the game is just "too hard."
The manager of the Rockford Peaches, played by Tom Hanks, tries to talk her out of quitting.
When she says, "It's too hard,“ he replies, "Well, baseball's suppose to be hard. . . If it weren't hard, everybody would do it."
And then he says this: "Hard is what makes it great!"

Doing. Loving. Walking.

What God requires of us is hard.

But that’s what makes the lives we live for God, and for others, great!!
(1783)

© The Rev. Dennis Cook, St. Timothy’s Presbyterian Church, Ajax, ON, Canada