Micah 5:2-5a
Fourth Sunday of Advent
Our Scripture lesson on this, the final Sunday of Advent, comes from the prophet Micah. The office of prophet is complicated, both in Scripture, and in the church today. It raises questions for us: what does a prophet do? Is it just about predicting the future? Is there even such a thing as prophets these days? What would a prophet look like today?
From what I can tell, understanding the job of a prophet is probably easier than we make it: it’s just to notice. Notice what God is saying and then tell that story. Usually that story is simple: God loves you, turn toward that love; God loved you so much that God came into this world, to give his life for us; God loves you still, so much that God is still showing up in surprising ways. Does that sound familiar? We prophecy every week when we share God Sightings.
I’d add that the office of prophet is a little deeper than that. Biblically, those called to prophetic ministries are called to notice the specific ways that God is speaking. I don’t think I’m that kind of prophet, but what do I know: most prophets we read about in the Bible don’t know they are or even want to be. But I do notice things and sometimes those things are oddly specific. Or maybe it’s the practice of preaching to connect a thing and a truth call it an object lesson. Maybe it’s just God showing off: It’s sometimes like God is saying, “Hey, did you see that? Did you see what I just did there.” Lately I’ve been seeing that a lot. I was telling a friend of mine the other day, “Sometimes God moves in my life in ways that are so obvious that is can’t be described as faith anymore.”
A good example is that dance we just witnessed. [Our dance team just performed an interpretive dance on Annie Lennox’ version of “Good Christian Men Rejoice.] On the one hand, it’s a lovely version of a very old song with a wonderful Christmas message, embodied by a creative team of dancers. On the other hand, what those dancers did is a perfect metaphor for exactly what I’m talking about today. What I’m talking about is incarnation: the embodiment of the power and will of God. And then they took a song and literally embodied it. We didn’t plan that. I didn’t notice that until a few days ago. That is just God showing off; that is God putting something on Sonja’s heart that was exactly the same thing God put on my heart. You don’t have to be the most gifted prophet to notice something cool like that.
I know a little girl named Micah. I pretty sure her parents did not read the book of Micah first; at least not all of it. If they did, that is a bold move, naming your kid after this prophet. The book sort-of turns out okay, but Micah is not a light book. For example, our reading picks up at verse two: “But you, O Bethlehem of Ephrathah, who are one of the little clans of Judah, from you shall come forth for me one who is to rule in Israel, whose origin is from of old, from ancient days.” As it is almost Christmas so we know where this is going, right? It’s easy to interpret a prophecy when you’ve seen it’s fulfillment. But listen to verse one: “Now you are walled around with a wall; siege is laid against us; with a rod they strike the ruler of Israel upon the cheek.”
The actual context of our reading today is in the crisis of judgment. Micah warns, as other prophets before him, that God will not tolerate disobedience any more. Something must be done. God had enough of their lazy worship, their love of things over people, their rulers who would not do justice, and a whole lot more. So here they are: under siege; a rod is at their ruler’s cheek.
I’ve always had this little voice pop into my head when I read from prophets like Micah: because our nation does a lot of those same things too; heck, I do some of these things. We do nearly all of the things that made God so angry that the country was invaded and sent into exile. Nearly all of the things that the prophets condemned, we do as a culture. Now, the United States doesn’t have the same covenant relationship with God that Israel did; which might be why we’re still getting away with it. I don’t really think God has capture and exile in mind for us, but I do think God notices. I do think, even beyond anger, God wants our nation to live better for its own sake. It does make me wonder: how do we bring a prophetic voice—a voice that brings more than just judgement, but life—to a nation that doesn’t even know it’s supposed to listen? We’ll get back to that.
Although Micah proclaims a judgment, he also brings in these little glimpses of hope along the way. There is judgement, because they deserve judgement. At some point, we all have. But there is never only judgement with God. The God who enters our existence as a baby always also brings hope. And that is where our reading comes in today.
Micah is, of course, not the only prophet to look to Bethlehem for the coming Messiah. He’s just the prophet we happen to be reading today. When Israel is finally restored, they all knew that their rightful king would come from Bethlehem. They all knew this because a) God said so; but they also knew it because b) that was where King David was from. Bethlehem was where rightful kings came from.
So who is this king? He is the “one who is to rule in Israel, whose origin is from of old, from ancient days. Therefore he shall give them up until the time when she who is in labor has brought forth.” Wink, wink. I’ll see you all tomorrow night, right? Here he comes! He’s coming to Bethlehem. He’s coming that we “shall live secure, for now he shall be great to the ends of the earth; and he shall be the one of peace.”
This great King comes to us, through Bethlehem, not just to judge, but to bring security and peace. And perhaps most importantly for us, especially in this season, is that he comes to us. Somehow Micah was able to see past his current calamity and on to Jesus, the True King; the one to be born in Bethlehem; the one who would feed his flock.
Here, I believe, is where we find our prophetic voice. We wonder: how do we speak with the Voice of God to a world that doesn’t even know it’s supposed to listen? We do what God did: we go to them. We incarnate, we embody the power and will of God as we enter this world. We embody the love of God in humility; you know, baby-like. We embody the surprising love of God and we surprise the world with it just like God surprised us.
This season, I’ve invited you to join me in a spiritual practice that I think will change the world. I’ve invited you to deepen a relationship, one a week, with someone else in this church. At some point (after Christmas), I want to invite those who have taken up this invitation to join me in sharing that experience. I imagine that those who have engaged in this simple, but life-giving experience will tell me they’ve been surprised to find the Spirit of God in those conversations. I imagine that they will tell me they have grown closer to their Savior, even as they’ve grown closer to one another. I make this bold, prophetic prediction because I know that’s what happens; I’ve experienced it myself.
Now, I still want to have that conversation because that’s only phase one. The power of God you experienced in your own deepening relationships is what we will then bring into the world. We’re going to bring that same practice, intentionally and openly, to folks who don’t know they ought to be listening for the Voice of God; and perhaps hear that voice coming from us.
I have a silly example. I spend most Tuesday mornings down the street at the Tuning Fork. For some reason, I get a lot of work done there. But because I’m there every Tuesday, I’ve gotten to know the owners and the staff in deeper ways; and more importantly, they’ve gotten to know me too. They know what I do; they know I’m a professional Christian; but they also know me and sometimes I find opportunities to chip away at their preconceptions of what Christians are like because of that. Like this past Tuesday.
Since we’re getting to know each other better as a congregation: you may not know that I am an old-school punk rocker from back in the day. Don’t worry, I like our worship music too; I’m not announcing anything. But sometimes, in my private life, I like to get back to my roots. You can (perhaps only) imagine my joy when I found out that there is such a thing as punk Christmas music and it was an entire genre.
I was sharing my joy with Tim, the owner, and he said, “Gimme your phone. Let’s plug it in my sound system.” And so, if you were having coffee at the Tuning Fork on Tuesday morning you would have heard (at respectable sound-levels) classic, Christian Christmas punk music. I would add that Tim didn’t have any Christmas music playing when I got there. I don’t think you can possibly understand the joy that came over me when I heard a band called Bad Religion, singing “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” over the speakers. First, there was just something so earnest in the way they were singing, “Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel!” But also, that people seemed to be having fun with it and asking Tim what the music was about. I kept hearing him from the other room telling people, “Yeah, he’s the pastor from down the street.”
I told you it was a silly example, but I don’t know that Tim would just let anybody play Christian music on his speaker system. That took relationship. That took time. And on Tuesday, I got to make Christians look normal for a minute. And I praise God for the opportunity.
As we prepare for the coming of our Savior, born into this world to show love in surprising ways, let us embody that same surprising love as we are born into it as well.
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