The Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany—February 1, 2026
“Lord, who can dwell in your tabernacle?” the Psalmist (rhetorically) inquires. His answer is daunting:
Whoever leads a blameless life and does what is right,
who speaks the truth from his heart.
There is no guile upon his tongue;
he does no evil to his friend;
he does not heap contempt upon his neighbor.
In his sight the wicked is rejected,
but he honors those who fear the Lord.
He has sworn to do no wrong
and does not take back his word.
He does not give his money in hope of gain,
nor does he take a bribe against the innocent.
Whoever does these things
shall never be overthrown.
Micah seems to dash our hopes of abiding on God’s holy hill (per the Psalm). God has put Israel on trial, and the (rhetorical) people respond by asking what they can do to atone for their wrongdoings. Micah’s famous response is,
He has told you, O mortal, 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?
“To do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God” has been described as an encapsultion of the entire Law.
We can expand this mini-drama, God’s call and the people’s response, so that it applies to all humanity—although we need to be careful about coopting Israelite history. It takes intentionality and focus to hear the litany of accusations in the text and translate them in a way that truly allows God’s words to speak to us, today. After all, unless you’re Jewish, none of the “saving acts of the Lord” listed in the passage from Micah have anything to do with your people. But we must believe that God has always also been working with all peoples everywhere, always urging us toward love and justice.
But…what about God’s claims and accusations? “O my people, what have I done to you? In what have I wearied you? Answer me!” Well, find your nearest atheist, especially if they are former Christians or formerly religious. The “problem of evil,” that God should be all-loving and all-powerful and yet cause or allow suffering is a common sticking point—and not just for atheists.
So far, we have a lot of ideals, and a wincing admission that we seem to only be capable of failing to live out those ideals. And so we want to atone. Surely after such an intense scrutiny and judgment, God will assign some serious penance and sacrifice, right?
But what we seem to hear is, “Do better. Get back on track: Do justice, love mercy, walk humbly with God.” Wash, rinse, and repeat. What if atonement simply looks like getting back up when we fall, getting back on track when we derail? Can we believe that God’s love is so fierce that our desire to be drawn up into that love is atonement enough?
The closest we Christians seem to be able to come to that is to sublimate the sacrifice. We assume atoning sacrifice is the meaning behind Jesus’ gruesome death at the hands of Empire, as if we would be reconciled to God through a hackneyed exercise of disproportionate force. There are many theories that try to square this circle: for example, that when Empire murders Jesus, our lust for blood is unmasked and our need for sacrifice is itself condemned. This sacrifice to end all sacrifices may have worked in the height of liberal theology, but if we simply scan the headlines any day of the week, we can see that our lust for blood is alive and well, and we sacrifice human beings daily for the sake of power, revenge, or even convenience. And Empire still uses disproportionate force, as we have seen so recently in Minneapolis.
In the Epistle, Paul recognizes that the simple message of Christ remains too difficult sometimes. “We proclaim Christ crucified,” he writes; a stumbling block for anyone who wants signs and foolishness to anyone who wants satisfactory answers and logical deductions. And while Paul may have interpreted Jesus’ death in sacrificial or martyrological terms (as martyrology had been developing in Hellenistic Jewish thought), we can also understand this stumbling block to simply be God showing up to a gun fight without even so much as a knife. Jesus confronts Empire, and also submits to its fury. And for those of us who believe Jesus is God, we can say that God has confronted Empire and also submitted to its fury. None of that could be salvific in itself, except that it is God who takes on death as a human being, and so it is a human being who, as God, defeats death in his resurrection.
And so Jesus tells us not only how we are expected to behave; he tells us we are blessed when we live out the ideals Micah has so succinctly laid out. We get Matthew’s version of the Beatitudes, which spiritualize Jesus’ sayings somewhat—most notably when “the poor” is rendered here as “the poor in spirit.” Perhaps this waters down the message, or perhaps it provides a way in for even those who are not literally poor to also find blessing. In any case, the word for “blessed” here can also be translated as “happy”:
Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.
To our social order, none of these things should lead to blessing. This is a list of qualities to be avoided. Whether you’re materially poor or just poor in spirit, you’ll be lucky if Empire simply ignores you. Avoid mourning at all costs. Might makes right. Whether you’re hungry or thirsty in the literal or spiritual sense, obviously you did something wrong and deserve what you get. Being merciful shows weakness (and empathy is a sin now). If “pure in heart” is important to you, just give some money to charity, or go to church for communion or absolution (the logic of sin and sacrifice). Stirring up strife is a great way to make money and distract the populace from whatever it is you should be ashamed that you’re doing. And persecution? That’s when you’re not allowed to force your own values, practices, and will on other people, right? We can just redact the phrase “falsely on my account” from the last one, right?
Jesus’ way is simple, but not easy, especially as it goes against the grain of the social order and against the rules and civic religion of Empire. It’s naive; it’s idealistic. And it will be held against you.
But you will be called a child of God.
The engraving at the top of this post depicts Christ preaching at the center. The four Evangelists are pictured in the corners: Matthew, top left; Mark, bottom left; Luke, bottom right; and John, top right. Along the rest of the border are scenes of people living out the beatitudes—some taken from the life of Christ, his Mother, or his friends. For example, third down on the left we see the woman weeping and washing Jesus’ feet with her hair, and the caption tells us, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” Other scenes include the presentation of Christ in the Temple, the Anunciation, and the stoning of St. Stephen.
Jesus knows what he’s talking about here. He’s lived through or witnessed everything on the list. So eager is God to have us turn to God and walk humbly with God, that God came and walked humbly with us, in the person of Jesus. What God wants from us in return is that we do justice, love mercy, and humbly walk with God. Simple, but not easy.
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