What Does the Lord Require?

The court is called to order. But there are no walls and no benches. The jury is the mountains, ancient and silent. The hills lean in to listen. And the one bringing the case is God himself.

Micah came from Moresheth, a farming town in the low hills of Judah. He spoke in the days of the kings Jotham, Ahaz and Hezekiah. Like Amos and Isaiah, he saw a land where the powerful took fields that weren't theirs, where judges took bribes and where people still came to worship as if nothing were wrong. In this passage Micah pictures a courtroom. God has a complaint against his people, and he wants it heard in front of the whole creation.

“Arise,” says the Lord. “Plead your case before the mountains, and let the hills hear your voice.” And then God speaks, but not with shouting. With a question. “O my people, what have I done to you? How have I wearied you? Answer me.” It is the voice of someone who has been hurt, asking his friend to explain. What did I ever do to make you tired of me? Where did I let you down?

Then God reminds them of their own story. “I brought you up out of the land of Egypt. I redeemed you from the house of slavery. I sent Moses, Aaron and Miriam to lead you.” He reminds them of Balak, the king of Moab, who hired Balaam to curse Israel in the wilderness. But every time Balaam opened his mouth, a blessing came out instead. He reminds them of the journey from Shittim to Gilgal, across the river Jordan and into the land. “Remember,” God says, “so that you may know the saving acts of the Lord.” This is not a list of complaints. It is a list of kindnesses. God's case is simply this: I have been good to you.

Now a voice from the people answers. You can almost hear it rising, a little panicked, trying to find the right price. “With what shall I come before the Lord? Shall I bring burnt offerings, calves a year old? Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams? With ten thousand rivers of oil?” Each offer is bigger than the last. And then the most terrible offer of all. “Shall I give my firstborn child for my wrongdoing, the child of my own body for the sin of my soul?” The speaker is going too far, as if God were a powerful lord who could be bought, if only the gift were big enough.

And then comes the answer, quiet and clear. “He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?” Not more rams. Not more oil. Do justly: treat people fairly, especially those who have no power. Love mercy: not just show kindness now and then, but love it, be loyal to it. Walk humbly with your God: go through life side by side with him, not out in front. The people were asking what God wanted from them. God answers: I want you.

Micah's words were remembered for a long time. About a hundred years later, the prophet Jeremiah was put on trial for warning that Jerusalem would fall. Some wanted him dead. Then certain elders of the land stood up and reminded everyone of Micah of Moresheth, who had spoken a similar warning in King Hezekiah's day. Hezekiah did not kill Micah, they said. He turned to the Lord. Their argument helped save Jeremiah's life.

What the Lord requires. You'll find it in Micah chapter 6, verses 1 to 8. The people tried to work out what gift would be big enough for God. God told them that what he wants is a life: fair, kind and humble, walking beside him. So here's the question to carry with you. Which of the three, justice, mercy or humility, do you most need to practise this week?