“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?”

— Micah 6:8

The scholars on Working Preacher love to say of Micah, Oh! That’s a great verse to preach. Of course they mean Micah 6:8, but there is so much more. So, so much more.

Micah prophesies in a season thick with anxiety and pressure. A powerful empire reaches deeper into daily life, tightening its grip. Rules bend to serve its desires and its stories. It feels as though the empire keeps reminding the people who holds the power, who carries the weapons. Some communities have already collapsed. Others still stand, but barely. The future feels fragile, and everyone knows it, even if no one wants to say it out loud.

On the surface, things look fine, especially for those with money, influence, and options. The economy works for some. Public religion thrives. Worship is well attended. Prayers rise with confidence. Many assume God stands firmly on their side. But beneath the noise and certainty, the social fabric unravels.

Micah’s accusation cuts through polite religious language: Those with power prosper by exploiting those without it. Power grabs land and bends systems. Courts reward the connected. Leaders protect themselves. And the religious voices often soften hard truths and call it wisdom. They comfort the powerful, reassure them that everything is fine, insist that nothing really needs to change.

Worship continues uninterrupted. The calendar stays full. Rituals carry on. The vocabulary of faith sounds fluent and familiar, but justice never arrives. The messy, inconvenient, neighbor loving justice waits on the sidelines, hoping for a scrap.

So Micah does not speak to people who have abandoned God. He speaks to people who feel certain God agrees with them. People who confuse religious activity with faithfulness. People who pray earnestly while benefiting from systems that harm others. People who are deeply religious and deeply unjust.

Into this moment, Micah reminds us what God asks of us.

I have come to believe that faithfulness in the face of hollow religion is an act of rebellion. That repentance and righteous action in the face of a culture that tells us some people do not count is an act of rebellion. That loving our neighbors when others want to push them out or erase them is an act of rebellion. These are rebellions of mercy, courage, and hope. And they are rebellions we can and should practice.

We have been told what is good. Even when it clashes with what those in power call good. We know our calling: to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with God.

Beloved, these are good acts, but that does not make them easy. I am grateful that we do them together.