Category: Micah

The word of the LORD that came to Micah of Moresheth in the days of Jotham, Ahaz, and Hezekiah, kings of Judah, which he saw concerning Samaria and Jerusalem.

²  Hear, you peoples, all of you;
pay attention, O earth, and all that is in it,
and let the Lord GOD be a witness against you,
the Lord from his holy temple.
³  For behold, the LORD is coming out of his place,
and will come down and tread upon the high places of the earth.
⁴  And the mountains will melt under him,
and the valleys will split open,
like wax before the fire,
like waters poured down a steep place.

—Micah 1:1–4

Micah, “Who is like Yahweh?”—that is what Micah means. 

“Who is like Yahweh?” He has no rival. He is without peer. He alone is God. He is transcendent and incomprehensible—infinite in all His attributes. He is holy.

You cannot have a great God without great judgment. If there is no great judgment, then He really isn’t a great God. If sins against Him are negligible, then He is inconsequential. If you want a God who is perfect in goodness, truth, and beauty and thus the fullness of our every longing and the fountain of all delight, you cannot have Him without great judgment. To rebel against such a God is the highest of crimes worthy of eternal torment. The magnitude of hell is a testimony to the glory of God. If you want a God of whom you may exclaim, “Who is like you!” then you must be able to make that very exclamation of His judgment as well as of everything else that He is in perfection and unity.

Micah is a book of judgment. Three times we are summoned to “hear.” Three times a word of judgment follows that summons.

“Hear, you peoples, all of you; pay attention, O earth, and all that is in it, and let the Lord GOD be a witness against you, the Lord from his holy temple” (Micah 1:2).

“And I said: Hear, you heads of Jacob and rulers of the house of Israel! Is it not for you to know justice?— you who hate the good and love the evil, who tear the skin from off my people and their flesh from off their bones,…” (Micah 3:1–2).

“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).

With each summons, we move from judgment on their capital cities, to the judgment of their leaders, to the judgment of the people. And yet, at the end of each cycle of judgment, there is the hope of salvation. But always in Micah, before the promise of salvation is pronounced, we are summoned to hear of judgment. To properly receive the good news of grace, we must stop railing against God’s word of judgment. We must own our guilt if we are to receive God’s grace. We must learn to exclaim, “Who is like Yahweh?” and then we may rejoice, “Christ Jesus—my Lord, my God, my Savior!”

Once upon a time there was an enchanted kingdom, full of the deepest and purest of magic because loved by the highest of gods (Psalm 86:8). A great king was given to this people, and the magic was upon him heavily. Giants fell; enemies ran. But the end of his reign was marked by precursors of doom. The magic that once worked for him, now worked at times to reprove him. This was not a wieldable, tamable magic beneath him, but over him. The kingdom began to age and deteriorate with their king, for he was their shepherd. He carried them as a lamb on his shoulders. His fall would mean theirs. Yet the king was given a promise of a Son. A Son who not only would never go against the great magic, but who is Lord over it, for the great magic was simply His power, His desire. A Son would come, more ancient than His fathers.

Hopes were high in the king’s firstborn. The kingdom seemed to flourish as never before. Palaces were built, and an unequalled temple erected to God Most High. Yet the son’s kingdom was like a stack of Jenga blocks waiting to fall down. There was no spiritual cement to hold together the material prosperity. Walls were erected, but no longer enchanted. The son’s latter reign was more dismal than his father’s. To many wives with too many idols led his heart astray.

Sons were born and sons reigned, but never did any match the reign of the first king, most certainly none excelled it. Good kings would rise and rebuild, but a bad king would always follow who would tear down more than His predecessors could build up. This kingdom was destined to shine like the sun, but entropy and the law of thermodynamics seemed to set hard in just as this star was birthed. Walls cracked, gates splintered, the temple was burned, the line of kings was humiliated, hope was banished.

Then, as a shoot coming forth miraculously our of dry ground, came a Son of the sons. He too would be struck and humiliated by pagan rulers. Far deeper and harder would be His fall, for He would fall not for His own personal sins, for He had none, but for all the sins of His subjects, for He carried them as a lamb upon His shoulders.

The first king’s fall meant the ruination of the kingdom. The second king’s fall meant their salvation.The first king fell into sin precisely when he failed to war for his people (2 Samuel 11:1ff). The second king fell in battle for His people. He was the promised Warrior Prince born of Eve and Israel, born to kill the dragon and get the girl. He would rescue the prostitute and maker her His pure bride.

Wicked kings fell never to rise. This King rose never to fall, and He stands with His own as a lamb upon His shoulders. Darkness had fallen on the land, but it fell dead when the Dragon tried to consume the Morning Star. The bleak darkness only made the Son’s rising more brilliant.  This Star will never dim, of His rule there will be no end. His eternal rule is His people’s everlasting peace. This is the only true “happily ever after.”