Reflecting on Micah 6:8

For the last few weeks, I have written my bulletin articles as reflections on Micah 6:8. These are not deep exegetical efforts, but more devotional in nature. They are here for you to peruse if you would like.

Micah 6:8 - Knowing What Is Good
I want to reflect on Micah 6:8, a very significant passage. I want to look at one phrase at a time, trusting that God’s Word is a well not easily exhausted when we take time to drink from it. Here’s the whole verse: 

He has told you, O man, what is good—and what does the Lord require of you,but to do justice and to love kindnessand to walk humbly with your God.

Think about the first line. “He has told you, O man, what is good.” Though there are many things that divide people and cultures, there are also certain things that we all share. One of these is the seemingly endless quest for what is good and worthy of our time. Even in the Declaration of Independence, the “pursuit of happiness” is counted as an inalienable right, given to all human beings by our Creator, and which therefore no government should take away. Yet here in Micah’s words, we are reminded that for all the billions of dollars spent each year on vehicles, homes, vacations, sports, education, dramatic arts, music, and on whatever else it is we turn to seeking happiness, God has already told us what is good.

This should provide an immediate advantage to the children of God, because our lives should not be characterized by needless pursuits of frivolous things. True happiness comes from being at peace with the one who created us, and from showing love to his children. It is in fact possible to live a beautiful and meaningful life without ever traveling even a mile from the place you were born. God’s Word has come to us as a gift to be received, and here in our lives, God provides us with everything we need to flourish, right where we are. This isn’t to say we shouldn’t go out and explore this big beautiful world and meet the amazing people with whom we share it. We just need to understand that what can bring us truest happiness is all around us and within us, begging for our notice and cultivation. Seek first the Kingdom of God to find your joy there, and God will give many other good things to you as well.


Micah 6:8 - Owning Our Baptismal Vows
The second phrase of Micah 6:8 is in the form of a question. “And what does the Lord require of you?” 

The only way we can receive the grace of God is as a gift. It is unmerited kindness, which we could never fully repay. There is no measurement or criteria by which we could excuse ourselves from our shortcomings and limitations. We must all turn to Christ if we want to receive salvation, and allow the Spirit to strengthen our walk, making up for what we lack. Yet because we have received grace, our gratitude for this gift should become obvious in our conduct and character.

Micah reminds us that being saved does not come without expectations. In our weekly rhythm of worship and work, it is important to keep asking that question: “Here, where God has placed me, what does God expect from me?” Perhaps God has kept you where you are for reasons unique to yourself. Maybe you could offer a word of encouragement and be heard where others would be ignored. Maybe it is your talents that God intends to use for something larger if you were to make yourself available. It isn’t a sense of guilt, or an attempt to pay off our salvation debt that drives us, but instead our gratitude, and the privilege of getting to use what we’ve been given as part of the work that God is accomplishing in the world. This might make a worthy thought for you this week as you remember Christ in communion. “What does the Lord require of me? How could I honor my Lord more this week than I did last week?"


Micah 6:8 - Doing Justice and Loving Kindness
The third phrase in Micah 6:8 begins a response to the last devotional's question:

And what does the Lord require of you, but to do justice and love kindness…

There is more to this thought, but let’s not rush ahead to it. Justice and kindness both cast long shadows of importance over Scripture. God seems to have a special place in his heart for widows, for orphans, and for foreign immigrants; all of who are vulnerable or out of place. If we want to have a heart like God’s, we would do well to cultivate love in our hearts for these same groups of people, and for others who are at a disadvantage. 

Could you even begin to describe the value that your immediate family members have had in shaping your life, for better or for worse? If you had a father or a mother who made time for you, who played with you, who talked with you about God and how the world works, can you even imagine where you’d be without the influence they have provided you? Have you ever had to make a move to a place where you knew no one and to be called the “new kid” or the “foreigner.” If you’ve not had the experience of losing a parent or a spouse, or being completely uprooted from all that is familiar to you, count your blessings. Many cannot say the same. 

We cannot always know a person’s backstory when we meet them, but it seems that we should always keep our thermostat set on kindness. If you were new, if you were vulnerable, if you had lost the person closest to you in your life, what would you want others to do for you? That’s a significant part of Micah’s phrasing, isn’t it? We’re called on to love kindness, but justice is something we are told to do. We cannot always ensure an equality of outcomes for people, but we can do everything within our power to give people a fair chance and better possibilities. There are people in your life right now who would give anything to be in your shoes. What could you be doing to help create that possibility for them, especially if they have no other good role models to guide them?


Micah 6:8 - Walking Humbly
This thought is a continuation of the last thought’s admonishment. We are to do justice, we are to love kindness, but we are also to walk humbly. Humility is slippery, isn’t it? As soon as you claim to have achieved it, you’ve lost it. At this point in my life, my favorite metaphor for Christian leadership is the idea of creating space. I believe it ties in easily to humility. A good question for servant leaders is, “How do I create spaces where others can use their talents in a way that glorifies God, where they can be encouraged and strengthened, and where none of the attention is focussed on me?" A person who is confused or hurting needs a leader who makes space for them to share what’s on their heart. Even a simple hug is a way of making space within myself so that there is a place for you with me. John the Baptist had it right: “He must increase, but I must decrease. (John 3:30)"

Consider the significance of space. If you build a new home, the real value of a home is not in the foundation or the structure, but in the empty space contained therein where a family’s life can happen. The value of a bowl or a container is the kind of space contained therein where you place the things you desire to fill it. Much the same with a stage in an auditorium, it is the space it creates for communication and hearing that makes it useful. 

“Walk humbly,” Micah reminds us. What people need from us is not for us to be the container that is overflowing with our own ego, with our own stories of self-importance, or with our own agenda. Walking humbly means that I value you enough to give you space in my life while also resisting the urge to crowd it. It is amazing how much people can grow when they have the space to. Can you walk humbly enough to be the empty home where others can find refuge, the empty bowl that would receive and value what is special about them, or the open stage that celebrates them and allows them to cultivate their own God-given gifts? Humility is a tricky concept, but it certainly has to involve more of God and less of me.


Micah 6:8 - With Your God
In this final reflection on Micah 6:8, having been admonished to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly, Micah reminds us that we are to do all of these things “with your God.” God hasn’t just handed us an instruction book and left us on our own to figure it out; he goes with us. 

The key to spiritual growth is awareness. If we feel a need to rekindle our relationship with God, we tend to gravitate to those places where we have experienced God’s presence with the most lucidity. Whether it’s a favorite place on your property, a treasured vacation spot, or a seat near some dearly respected friends with whom you worship each week, it is easy to believe God is near in those places where we have had our closest experiences of him. But the truth is, you’ve never been any place where God is not. One of my favorite prayers is an old Irish one called “I Rise Today.” The prayer invites Christ’s presence in a creative variety of ways: “Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ on my right, Christ on my left, Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit, Christ when I stand, Christ in the heart of everyone who thinks of me, Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me, Christ in every eye that seems me, Christ in every ear that hears me…” 

Something about the specificity of that prayer is helpful to me in remembering that whatever it is we are doing, wherever it is we are going, there are opportunities to experience God and ways we can honor God. This was as true of Paul’s sermons in the most impressive hearings as it was of his quiet conversations behind bars. Likewise, it's just as true of your morning commute, your afternoon cup of coffee, and your evening routine with your family. God’s presence is unchanging. It is our awareness that needs changing. In Scripture, “walking” is often used as a way to speak of a person’s life. Your life is your journey, and in Bible times, there was no way to journey that didn’t involve walking. You don’t have to walk alone, and you don’t have to travel to an exotic location to find God. You’ll discover he’s been there all along if you’re willing to include him. Do all of the things you’re doing, but do them with your God.  

A Type of Thrones

Martin's mental image of the Iron Throne
is that it sits asymmetrically, and that the
one seated on it is at least ten feet high. 

Thrones mean power and position. In contemporary culture, there is no throne more recognizable than the Iron Throne from George R.R. Martin's book series A Song of Fire and Ice, popularized by HBO's televised adaptation, Game of Thrones. (Though I'm a huge fan of good fictional fantasy, I decided not to watch the show due to the kinds content they've chosen to include.) In fact, it's clear that the typical representation of the Iron Throne is actually much smaller than what Martin had envisioned in his head. The idea is that the Throne was made by a conquering king, created with a thousand swords surrendered by his enemies. Here is how one character describes the throne in A Storm of Swords:

Have you ever seen the Iron Throne? The barbs along the back, the ribbons of twisted steel, the jagged ends of swords and knives all tangled up and melted? It is not a comfortable seat, ser. Aerys cut himself so often men took to calling him King Scab, and Maegor the Cruel was murdered in that chair. By that chair, to hear some tell it. It is not a seat where a man can rest at ease. Ofttimes I wonder why my brothers wanted it so desperately.

This particular throne is a symbol of conquest, cruelty, and dominance. The one who occupies it has obtained it by ugly displays of power and treachery.

There is an uncomfortably easy connection between power and brutality, and this connection is not limited to fiction. When Saddam Hussein became president of Iraq in July 1979, within one week, he called out an assembly of the Ba'ath Party, his political enemies. In the meeting, a list of 68 names were read aloud, and all of them were arrested and removed from the room. All 68 were found guilty of treason, and 22 were sentenced to death. By August 1979, hundreds of his political foes had been executed. Whatever type of throne he sat upon, his power represented brutality, bloodshed, and ruthlessness.

In any tension between people and the one who rules them, the question often arises about the source of a person's power. "Who put you in charge?" It isn't uncommon for people to mutter under their breath about their superiors' use and misuse of rank and position. We speak this way frequently about our politicians, our police officers, and even about a wide array of people who are gatekeepers to whatever thing that we happen to want right now. 

It is our typical hangups about power and abuse that made a verse in Psalm 22 catch my attention:

Yet you are holy, enthroned on the praises of Israel. In you our fathers trusted; they trusted and you delivered them. To you they cried and were rescued; in you they trusted and were not put to shame. (Proverbs 22:3-5)

Granted, there is plenty of language in Scripture about God conquering his enemies, but it is God's throne here that I find captivating: God sits enthroned on the praises of his people. There is an extent to which people can say, "Well, it's God, and if God says he's the King, there's nothing you can do to stop him." But God does not sit on a throne of swords or in a position that he has created through terror and treachery.

As the psalmist alludes to, God's people praise him because of the ways he's taken care of us. We've relied on God and found him to be trustworthy. We've been in situations too dense for us to navigate, and he has rescued us and blessed us. The end result of following God is that we've been honored, and not put to shame. The throne God occupies is made of the great praises we can offer because of what he's done for us. It is a reign of peace, blessing, and compassion. God will sit on a throne of well-deserved praise, and it his intention to earn it--not to force it--through the way he cares for us.

Each of us occupies some type of position in life that we have created for ourselves. Some do obtain their statuses in life through shrewdness and manipulation, but these positions have limited staying power. The kind of position we should desire in this life comes from what we sow in the lives of others, and it is not a respect that can be demanded. Precisely the opposite. To be known as a person of integrity. To be trusted as a person of character. To be remembered as a person of kindness and courage. These are powerful positions to occupy, yet they come through the path of service and humility. We shouldn't do good only when we believe we are likely to receive praise, but this should not hinder us from always striving to do things that are praiseworthy.

When it's all said and done, a throne of praise is better than a throne of iron any day.

Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. (Philippians 2:3-8)

Humility and Church Leadership

A few weeks ago, I was outside visiting with people after church, and noticed one of my youth group girls talking with her grandparents. The grandparents have gone here for as long as pictorial directories have existed. They have been here through good times and bad, and they've raised their children who still go here. Now, many of their grandchildren go to this church.

It struck me how much audacity we ministers must have to walk into a congregation and try to lead a group of people with such deep roots. Some ministers start their own congregations or preach at newer plants and therefore don't have comparable experiences to what I'm having here. But to me, it's a sacred thing to see several generations of Christians at the same congregation.

We ministers are itinerant. Even if we stay for 15 or 20 years at one place, that's a drop in the bucket compared to what long histories some families will have with their congregations. In thinking about this, I was reminded of a question that I ponder from time to time: "Who am I to tell these people what God wants, or what a church should be like?"

They were here long before I got here. More than likely, most of them will still be here whenever I'm gone. If I do good work here, hopefully they will continue to reap the benefits. If I were to do a poor job, they would be left to clean up my mess. Some ministers leave behind trails of destruction wherever they are. Hopefully, that is not the norm, but I've seen it happen.

But on the other side of the coin, I think new people bring unique benefits. Most of us can never muster enthusiasm comparable to the natural excitement of a new convert. New people can look at congregational blind spots from outside perspectives, and can sometimes give helpful insights.

As far as new ministers, I'd like to think that even if we don't have long histories, if we study and learn as we ought, we gain knowledge that has been tried and tested by generations, and will help the congregation to learn and grow.

Ministers need to recognize their own finiteness. We should be humble as we push for new ideas and changes. A congregation didn't become what it is quickly, and won't be transformed quickly either.

Congregations should also be humble. They should recognize that they stand on the shoulders of great predecessors. There is not a congregation existing today that isn't in some way the result of someone's efforts to share the Gospel. While a minister cannot know all about them, they should try to be open to his perspectives; particularly if his love for Christ is apparent in his actions. A minister's education would be a terrible thing to waste.