What Does the Lord Require of Us? Micah 6:1-8

Recently, I had an opportunity to look at a favorite passage of scripture in a new and fresh way. Often, it is true that we take familiar passages for granted and do not re-think them as frequently as we ought to. Micah 6:8 is a wonderful text that admonishes us to "do justice, love mercy and walk humbly with your God." It sounds so user-friendly and easy to use. That is, until one looks at the whole of chapter 6 a bit more closely. The context of the passage is a trial with YHWH as the prosecuting attorney, the mountains of the earth as the jury, and the cities of Israel as the defendant. The context of the whole affair does have to do with the nature of Israel's worship, but it goes much further than that. The whole concept of Israel's understanding of justice is on trial, and it is found to be wanting. To Micah's way of thinking, and to the ways of thinking of many of the eighth century prophets, justice is, or should be, dictated by the concerns of those for whom justice is denied. It is very difficult for Americans, or for people of any other affluent society to grasp fully this biblical concept of justice, because we have an entrenched understanding of nationalistic justice. America represents 5% of the world's population, but we incarcerate 25% of the world's population of inmates. To our way of understanding, people get what they deserve. After all, justice is blind, signified by the famous statue of the figure with the scales and blindfold. Well, for the prophets, justice was not blind, and God saw, and sees, all injustice. There is nowhere that God's compassionate gaze will not fall; God sees the need in all quarters. So then, this understanding of justice also transforms the understanding of mercy, in this context. Mercy, or hesed in Hebrew, does not translate easily into English. When I was an undergraduate, my OT professor said that it is best translated as "steadfast love." The scholars that I researched would not disagree with that, but some take it a step further and define it as the unbreakable connection that God has with God's people. We are to strive for that same connection with our neighbors. If I was to personalize it, I would say something like, "I will not only love God with the commitment that God first showed me, but I will love you with that same commitment to respect, helpfulness and loving concern." Such an understanding of mercy then paves the way for embodying humility in a way that seeks to take empathy to its furthermost limits. We must be alert to the times when God's hesed, which may cause God's heart to break, also causes our hearts to break with compassion and loving kindness.Though we can never do so fully, we must try to look at the world through God's eyes. This whole attitude must pervade our worship, and carry beyond Sunday morning. As one writer has stated, our Sunday worship does not mean much if it doesn't make a difference in the way we treat people on Monday. In short, Micah 6:8 is a call to stand with every person in every place, everyday. We are called to help to restore God's people, one hand and one heart at a time. No exceptions. Favorite biblical passages can surprise us when we re-visit them. They can cause our faith, and our ability to imagine the breadth and depth of God's community, to expand in ways we do not expect. And the Kingdom moves just a little bit closer.

Another Easter, Another Plea

For as long as I can remember, I have wondered why Easter does not change us more than it does. OK, time for a disclaimer: My interpretation about what is significant about Easter may not be thought of as in the mainstream. Well, that wouldn't be the first time that my thinking fell well shy of orthodoxy. Millions will gather this Sunday, many who do not darken the door of a church for the rest of the year. The choirs will be full, the organ will open up all the way, and most of the pastors will appear to be in really good moods. And when everyone leaves the service, I wonder if they will feel changed somehow. Last Easter, my wife and I attended our first Easter service in our then-new church. The Cathedral was packed, the choir and organist were superb, and I heard one women remark as we were leaving the church, "This is THE place to be today."I would agree that any Christian gathering on Easter is THE place to be, but only if the message approaches being transformative. When I hear an Easter sermon, I want to be amazed by the proclamation of what sets Easter apart. However, what I usually hear has something to do with how the day signifies that we need not fear death, for Christ has conquered death. I do not disagree, though I would like to hear a fuller explanation of what that actually means. But my focus on Easter is not about death, and beyond. I wonder why I don't hear pastors talk about the effect of resurrection on us here and now. I write this on Good Friday, which, in my opinion, is the most sacred day of the Christian year. Too many Christians want to hurry past this day and get on with the fun part of the weekend. Of course, without Friday, Sunday has no real significance. Good Friday shouts to us that Christ was a man of his word, and he did not take the easy way out, though he may have wished that he could have. All of his talk about sacrificial love took on meaning only because he did not turn away from following his talk to its logical and necessary conclusion. Good Friday reminds me that God did more than God had to in order to get my attention. And, for me, that message is not about blood atonement, because, as Marcus Borg has opined, God is God, did God really need to kill his son to redeem the world? No, and Jesus chose to offer up his life because, in light of his teachings, he could do nothing else if his teachings were to be authentic. Thus, Sunday is the day to get everyone's attention and ask why we have not changed our behavior. If God was not above choosing the difficult path, why are we so lazy as people of faith? The majority of professed Christians in the United States do not attend weekly worship. According to Diana Butler Bass, about twenty-four percent of us do. Christian politicians seem to be obsessed about the sexual habits of Americans, and are bold to proclaim their unending concern for the unborn child. Yet, the way they blithely slash social programs seems to indicate that they are not nearly as concerned with a child once he or she is born. We have become a selfish, self-satisfied people who call ourselves Christians. Again, according to Butler-Bass, even the so-called "mega-churches" are in decline, so American Christianity is in trouble. I am not sure that even a radical Easter Sunday wake-up call about THIS world and its problems will serve as a wake up. Walter Brueggemann attributed the inability of the biblical prophets to arouse concern on the part of those who heard their preaching to a numbness that grew from satiation. They were full of the good stuff, they had no need, or ability, apparently, to heed warnings.
My Easter message, if I was to preach one? It's one I have actually preached before: How many more Easter Sundays will it take for Christians to understand that nothing is the same, and the world can be changed for the better? We have to stop looking at the sky and instead turn our gaze to our neighbors. There is a world in need of love and a reason to be hopeful. Why does that task not excite us more? Why are we not more determined to show the life changing message of the gospel in our own lives? This Easter, let's make a determination to begin by welcoming the Stranger, whomever that person may be for each one of us. Radical hospitality makes room for those with whom we differ, and once we get together, we can enrich the lives of one another with our stories. Easter: life does not have to be the same. The work has been done, God has saved the whole world. We just need to show what that change looks like.