A Lawsuit Against Israel

[Read Micah 6:1–8]

There’s a repeated storyline or scene that comes up regularly in movies—maybe in life as well. It goes something like this. Everything is going great in his person’s life, they love their family, they love their job, they love their hobbies. It’s as if everything in the world is aligned for their happiness. Until something goes wrong. All of a sudden one of their children get really sick and things start to turn sideways. They become overcome with worry and fear. They fret day and night over their child’s health. They become so overcome that they end up losing their job and losing their hobbies—really they end up losing everything as they focus in on their sick child. Eventually, they turn to God in prayer and scream, “I’ve lost everything! I’ve sacrificed my job. I’ve sacrificed my life. I’ve sacrificed everything. What more do you want from me? Do you want me to pray more? Do you want me to read my bible more? Do you want me to go to church more or to serve the poor more or to do more “good” in the world? What do you want from me?” 

That’s the situation of this morning’s passage. Israel is in a tough spot—a dire situation. We’ve heard a lot about the different trials and struggles they’ve faced with their wicked and corrupt leaders and foreign nations invading their cities and laying siege on Jerusalem. They’re in a tough spot and things are not looking good for them. So they march to the temple to ask God what they should do in order to be saved. But it’s more than that. They’re not marching to the temple inquiring of God, they are marching to the temple with accusations—as we’ll see later on in the passage. It seems very much like God’s people are coming to the temple grumbling about God—complaining that he hasn’t done anything for them (at least in a while) and that God has been making their lives too hard—laying too heavy a burden on them. So, they are marching to the temple to lay their case before God and basically ask, “What more do you want from us?” 

It’s just as God’s people are accusing him of not doing enough for them and laying too heavy a burden on them, that God himself brings his counter accusation. This whole scene is that of a courtroom. The people came, thinking they were the prosecuting attorney, and that they were putting God in the place of the defendant. God says, “Oh no. That’s not how this is going to go. I have charges of my own to bring against you. I will be the prosecutor and you will be the defendant. That’s why the passage begins, “Hear what the LORD says: Arise, plead your case before the mountains, and let the hills hear your voice. Hear, you mountains, the indictment of the LORD, and you enduring foundations of the earth, for the LORD has an indictment against his people, and he will contend with Israel.” (Micah 6:1–2, ESV). 

Now, my metaphor falls a little short, because many commentators actually place Micah in the place of the prosecuting attorney. In this passage, it seems like God is telling Micah to arise and plead God’s case before the mountains—to bring God’s indictment against his people. That seems right, especially because of the LORD being referred to in the third person throughout. 

Micah is told to bring his first witness to the stand—the mountains, the foundations of the earth. I have to admit, it took me a while to understand this at first, especially because in our day this metaphor sounds different. It almost sounds like he is shouting out into the void, making a pointless case. But that’s not right. Rather, the mountains stand as enduring witnesses, who have been around much longer than God’s people. It was on a mountain that the Lord gave his people the law and made a covenant with them. The mountains have been there to see everything God has done for his people and everything the people have done as well. The mountains don’t come and go. One commentator pointed out that the mountains most likely function like the memorial stones God’s people built in various places to serve as “witnesses” to the work of God. So, the mountains are called to the witness stand to testify to the charges God is bringing against his people. 

Also, notice the tension in this passage. First, there’s some hostility in God’s words towards his people. The Hebrew word for “indictment” can mean a quarrel or opposition or fight. Even at the end, notice that God says he is going to “contend” with his people. So, God is not playing games here.

Yet, even though there’s hostility, there is also tenderness. Throughout the passage, even as God is bringing charges against them, he will repeatedly refer to them as “…my people…” (Micah 6:3, ESV). Even though he comes with some hostility and is ready to fight with them, they are still his people and he is still their God. He isn’t casting them off. That’s actually why he’s fighting with them. 

This is what it means to be in a covenantal relationship with someone. Think about this in a marriage. On the one hand, if divorce is always an option, if someone can easily throw the other off and walk away, you don’t really have to fight, do you? You can just walk away. Yet, if divorce is off the table, and you are going to be stuck with one another forever, you have to fight and you have to work things out. It’s actually not an option. That’s basically what is happening here. God is coming to them saying, “I’m your God and you are my people and we’re going to work this thing out. Nobody is getting rid of anybody here.” 

Then God brings their complaints back to them: “O my people, what have I done to you? How have I wearied you? Answer me!” (Micah 6:3, ESV). As I mentioned at the beginning, this is most likely what the people are saying. They are complaining either that God hasn’t done anything for them, or that he is doing bad things to them. Most likely they are complaining that God is wearing them out and laying too heavy of a burden on them. So, God says, “Show me.” Show me what bad things I’ve done to you. Show me how I have laid heavy burdens on you. Answer me! He says this knowing they have no answer. Like Job, they should cover their mouth and be quiet. 

Instead, God continues to show them what he has done for them and the “burden” he has laid on them. He says, “For I brought you up from the land of Egypt and redeemed you from the house of slavery…” (Micah 6:4, ESV). It’s almost as if God is saying, “Was this not enough for you? Was it too much of a burden on you that I freed you from slavery and bought you as my own people?” One of the commentators pointed out, “God's basic act of grace on behalf of his covenant people was the Exodus, which in the OT was an event invested with much of the significance that the Cross and Resurrection bear in the NT. To it many a psalmist and prophet look back as proof and pledge of God's election love and saving power.” (Allen, 366). Was that not enough for them? Too much of a burden for them?

He goes on and says, “…and I sent before you Moses, Aaron, and Miriam. O my people, remember what Balak king of Moab devised, and what Balaam the son of Beor answered him, and what happened from Shittim to Gilgal, that you may know the righteous acts of the LORD.” (Micah 6:4–5, ESV). Not only did God bring them out of Egypt and free them from slavery, he also provided them with leaders to guide them through the desert to the Promised Land. He protected them from their enemies and their attacks—even taking enemy attacks and turning them into blessing. The phrase from Shittim to Gilgal is talking about the crossing of the Jordan. Shittim is where they camped before they crossed the Jordan and after they crossed the Jordan they stayed in Gilgal. So, this was God’s way of saying, not only did I bring you out of Egypt, but I provided for you and protected you all the way through the desert and brought you into the Promised Land. Is that not enough? Was that too much of a burden for you?

To that God’s people respond. Actually, it’s most likely Micah speaking, voicing the response of God’s people. They respond, “With what shall I come before the LORD, and bow myself before God on high? Shall I come before him with burnt offerings, with calves a year old? Will the LORD be pleased with thousands of rams, with ten thousands of rivers of oil?…” (Micah 6:6–7, ESV). This is basically God’s people saying, “What do you want from us then?” Should we worship you more? Do we need to go to the mountains to worship you, to be closer to your presence? Do we need to make more burnt offerings to you with the best of our flock? Do you need us to offer thousands of rams or ten thousand rivers of oil? You see how quickly this escalates and starts to get ridiculous. The only people who ever offered “thousands” of rams was someone like Solomon, and I think that only happened once. The comment about ten thousands of rivers of oil, is complete absurdity—kinda like someone talking about “a gazillion dollars.” If they give him that much, would he rescue them and give them what they want?

Then they take another step of absurdity and say, “Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?” (Micah 6:7, ESV). Do you want us to sacrifice our children to you like the other gods? Would that satisfy you? Sadly, this had happened in Israel. If you remember back to my first sermon in this series where I mentioned King Ahaz—the worst king ever—who reigned during Micah’s prophetic ministry. It was said of him, “He even burned his son as an offering, according to the despicable practices of the nations whom the LORD drove out before the people of Israel.” (2 Kings 16:3, ESV). Is that what God wants from them? Would that be good enough?

I want to stop a moment and explain what’s going on here—something that people don’t often consider. Let me give an example that is seemingly mundane, but I hope will resonate with you. Imagine that chore in the house that you absolutely hate doing. It may be taking out the trash or doing the dishes or a variety of other options. You try to avoid doing it at all cost. Yet, there are days when you decide to do that chore. You drop everything you’re doing and you clean the dishes and put them away. How do you feel after you do that? Not only do you feel good, but you feel a little superior, don’t you? You just sacrificed for your family, and you’re just a little bit better than they are because they didn’t do what you did. They may even owe you something because of what you did for your family. 

Now imagine the flip side of that coin. How do you feel after you finish a chore—or duty—that you love doing? That thing you look forward to doing around the house. When you do that thing, do you feel superior? Do you feel like someone owes you something? No. You’re actually thankful for the opportunity to do that thing. 

Whenever we start to think that God owes us anything, we’ve fallen into this trap of the first scenario. We’ve fallen into this trap of basically saying, “God, I’ve sacrificed so much for you. I’ve prayed every day. I’ve read my bible. I go to church every Sunday. I’ve done all of these hard things for you. You owe me!” That’s called self-righteousness and self-righteousness comes from doing a bunch of things you don’t want to do and feeling righteous about it. As a result, you not only think God owes you, but you begin to think you can bargain with God—like you can buy him off. You start saying: If I read my bible more, will you give me what I want? If I pray more, will you give me what I want? If I go to church more and serve the poor more and do more “good” will you give me what I want? Basically, you are acting like someone in the mafia saying, “What’s it going to take to make this problem go away?” 

What’s interesting is God’s response to this. We read, “He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you…” (Micah 6:8, ESV). In response to God’s people asking him, “What do you want from us?” God says, “I’ve already told you. You know. I haven’t hidden it from you. I haven’t made it hard for you to figure it out. The simple fact is that you know what I want and don’t want to give it to me. You are willing to give me everything, but the very thing I want.” 

Then he begins to lay it out for 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?” (Micah 6:8, ESV). It’s tempting to take each one of these things individually—and I’ll explain each of them a little—but they are meant to be a complete package. They don’t get to choose two out of the three. This is what is good and what the Lord requires of them. 

Don’t forget what I mentioned earlier in this sermon about the covenantal relationship between God and his people, because that comes back again here. The word “justice” is a word that has strong covenantal connotations. It’s not just talking about fairness and laws, but about being in right relationship. In this instance it’s referring to being in right relationship with those around us. 

The phrase “to love kindness” has massive covenantal connotations. The word “kindness” is actually the Hebrew word “hesed”, which is often describing God’s steadfast love—or, as I like to call it, God’s promise-keeping, covenant-keeping love. This is the kind of love that God has shown his people when he delivered them from Egypt, led them through the wilderness, and brought them into the Promised Land despite all of their unfaithfulness. God’s people are to not only have that same kind of love, but they are to LOVE that kind of love and show that same kind of love to those around them. 

And finally “to walk humbly with your God,” has obvious covenantal connotations—especially in the language of “your God.” This is really in direct contrast to how the people have been relating with God throughout this passage. They have been walking pridefully with their God, puffing themselves up, bragging at the sacrifices they’ve made. And God is telling them that he is actually requiring them to humble themselves before him, trust him, and follow him. 

Micah 6:8 is just another way of saying what Jesus said: “And one of them, a lawyer, asked him a question to test him. “Teacher, which is the great commandment in the Law?” And he said to him, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments depend all the Law and the Prophets.”” (Matthew 22:35–40, ESV). The entire Bible has been about this one point, which is why God says, “I have already told you what I want. It’s in every story and on every page of the scriptures.”  

This scenario reminded me of a story I share with those who are seeking to become members of our church. I read it in a book a while ago. The author was reminded of a time when he was sent out with one of his elders to go door to door throughout the neighborhood to invite people to an upcoming event at their church. When they knocked on the door of one house, a crabby old man came to the door and said, “I don’t want anything to do with you people, all you want is my money!” The young man wasn’t sure how to respond, but the elder didn’t miss a beat and said, “Actually, we want more than your money. God demands your whole life—everything you have and are. He deserves nothing less.” 

That’s what God is telling his people in this passage. They are complaining to him saying, “What do you want from us?” and God is coming back saying, “I want YOU! All of you! I don’t want your stuff. I don’t want your rituals and sacrifices. I want YOU! I want you to love me and trust me and follow me.” 

This is why Jesus came and died and rose again. This is why we celebrate Lent and Easter—as reminders of the fact that God owes us nothing and we owe him everything—our entire life. Apart from Him, we are enslaved to sin and separated from God without any hope or purpose in the world. Yet, Jesus came to live and die and rise again, not only so that we would be forgiven and set free, but to PURCHASE us to be his. We belong to him and owe our lives to him. That’s why the New Testament says, “I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.” (Romans 12:1, ESV). That is your worship of God—offering your life as a living sacrifice. 

This is so important—and can be misapplied in so many ways. In some sense, it doesn’t matter how much to read your bible, pray, and attend church. If you haven’t given yourself to God—laid down your life as a sacrifice to him, decided to follow him in humble obedience—none of it matters. He wants YOU. Yet, if you decide to follow him in humble obedience and lay down your life, then you desire to read your bible, pray, attend church, love your neighbor, etc. These are no longer burdens that result in you feeling self-righteous, but things you love and enjoy doing. So, you not only do them, but you love doing them. It’s a JOY to lay our lives down as a living sacrifice to God, to give him everything, to trust him fully, and to walk humbly with him.