Sometime during the seventh and eighth centuries B.C., the king of Israel, a ruthless man named Ahaz, turned from the worship of God and embraced the worship of pagan gods, committing infant sacrifice in the Valley of Hinnom (a.k.a. Gehenna) and demanding sexual orgies at pagan hillside shrines. He built a pagan altar in the Jerusalem Temple and said, “Worship my gods here,” and closed off the Temple to the worship of God. As he did this, a strange prophet wandered the countryside, declaring that if the people refused to turn from the false gods and to turn back to their God, the God of Israel, destruction would come upon them. It is here where he declares that famous verse: “He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does YHWH require of you? To act justly and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God” (as opposed to all those false gods Ahaz loved to serve). Thus Micah gets to the heart of the matter: what is it that God demands of his people, even of his lawless, disobedient, and willfully wayward people?
Do Justice.
Love Mercy.
And walk humbly with YHWH.
This is what it means to be good.
This is what it means to be righteous.
The term “righteous” is a term that, at least in our culture, brings to mind plenty of off-color images. More revolting than Saw (or Saw II, or III, or IV, or V…) is the image of a self-righteous man, bathing in hypocrisy and two-facedness, pretending to be one thing on the outside while being rotten on the inside, the living metaphor of whitewashed tombs. The word “righteous” brings to mind holier-than-thou attitudes and self-righteous (a better word may be religiously-egotistical) living. Many of us—including Christians—are turned off by our culture’s perception of what it means to be “righteous”: to do all the right things, which generally means not being gay, not drinking alcohol, and not dancing (oh, and hating everyone who is or does any of these). You can tell if someone is “righteous” based upon how sour, glum-faced, and mean they are. This concept of “righteous” falls short of the word’s actual glory, turning something beautiful, colorful, and celebratory into something downright awful.
“Righteousness” in the Hebrew sense—in the tsedaqah sense of the word—means to be merciful, kind, faithful, generous, and just. It means—as Micah makes quite clear—to love mercy, to do justice, and to walk humbly with God. Righteousness is the character of God, his dispositions towards man (even towards sinners as sinful as myself): mercy, kindness, faithfulness, generosity, and justice. This is the character of God, and it is the character God demands of his people precisely because they belong to him and are to reflect his “image” as his image-bearers.
Mercy. Kindness. Faithfulness. Generosity. Justice.
That definition of righteousness comes as a breath of fresh air, as a candle lit in a dark room.
And it sheds light on what St. Paul says in Philippians 2.14-16, where he speaks of the people of God shining as lights in the darkness. He echoes a passage in the Book of Daniel which speaks of the righteous shining like stars: those who are righteous don’t just bring light into the world, they pierce the darkness. The righteous manner of living—a manner of living characterized by mercy towards others, kindness in our dealings, faithfulness to our fellow man, generosity towards all, and justice for the downtrodden—doesn’t just burn bright as a candle but pierces the darkness, exposing the darkness for what it really is. Selfishness, greed, and indifference to both God and man gives birth to a world of wickedness, evil, pain, and suffering. And when God’s people live righteous lives, they pierce that darkness and expose that darkness for its true colors, just as when sunlight enters a dark room, it exposes all the contours and textures and ugliness. In the same way, the righteousness of God’s people exposes all the good in the world, bringing it to surface, bringing it to praise and redemption.
Shining as lights in the world isn’t just about preaching the gospel. It is about living in tune with God’s new world. It is about living a life characterized by righteousness, a life characterized by mercy, kindness, faithfulness, generosity, and justice. In short, it is characterized by one’s disposition towards others, a disposition summed up most beautifully in that wildly-misunderstood and multi-textured word: love.
Righteousness is good.
Righteousness is beautiful.
Righteousness is exposing.
And righteousness is hard.
Living righteously in a world consumed with the exact opposite is an incredibly difficult task, especially when we are so used to living in a wholly different manner altogether. And on top of it all, living righteously brings about all sorts of sufferings: there’s friction as two manners of living collide, and where there’s friction, there’s bound to be earthquakes.
Micah’s words aren’t spoken to those who are gathered in church. His words aren’t spoken to those who have it all together. His words aren’t spoken to a people who are pretty much already trying their best to live righteously. He speaks to a people who have abandoned God. He speaks to a people who have turned their backs on their God and turned themselves over to the pagan gods. He speaks to a people who have rejected God’s ways and embraced a manner of living that is all about self-indulgence and self-satisfaction. He speaks to a people of a different way of life, a life which will be difficult not only because it’s something they’re not used to, but because they live in a world where the worship of God is forbidden, a world where worshippers of God will be mocked, beaten, and put to the spear. Don’t let anyone tell you living righteously is easy. It’s not. But—and this is important—it is good.
