Summary of my sermon, based on Micah 1. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on October 19, 2025.
We began with Micah 1:1–4, where the prophet introduces himself as “Micah of Moresheth” and summons the whole world to listen: “Hear, you peoples, all of you; pay attention, O earth, and all that is in it… For behold, the LORD is coming out of his place” (ESV). The scene is solemn and weighty. God draws near to judge, and creation cannot bear it: “the mountains will melt under him, and the valleys will split open, like wax before the fire, like waters poured down a steep place.” Father, may the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be pleasing to you, our Lord and Savior. Amen.
As you can see from the passage and our title, we’re starting a new series on the book of Micah: God With Us—Advent in the Book of Micah. It may feel early—we just had Thanksgiving and it’s mid-October—but after a recent stretch in the Philippines I’m reminded they enjoy the longest Christmas season in the world, the “ber months.” I even took photos to prove it: a mall Santa in September and a countdown that read 87 days to go. That was three weeks ago. Today it’s 67 days until Christmas. In all seriousness, we’re starting now because I want us to spend a bit longer in Micah together—seven sermons, one per chapter. It’s a short book; take thirty minutes this week and read it in one sitting.
Almost everything we know about Micah is in the opening verse. He’s “of Moresheth,” a small town about 35 km southwest of Jerusalem in the Shephelah—the Judean foothills. Rural and agricultural, yes, but strategically set on the routes from Egypt to Jerusalem. So while it wasn’t Jerusalem, it wasn’t isolated; travelers passed through, and armies too. Think of a rural town along a major corridor—fields on both sides, but the highway runs straight through. Micah’s very name preaches: “Who is like Yahweh?”—a question that is really a confession. No one is like our God. His ministry spanned the reigns of Jotham, Ahaz, and Hezekiah (roughly 750–687 BC), making him a contemporary of Isaiah. Jeremiah, a century later, tells us Micah’s warning reached Hezekiah and led to repentance (Jer. 26:17–19). Micah is a “minor prophet”—minor in length, not in importance. Their recurring pattern is judgment and deliverance, despair and hope, calling people back to repentance.
And yet the prophets are rarely preached. We love Isaiah 9:6 at Christmas—“For to us a child is born”—and Jeremiah 29:11 for encouragement. But Zephaniah’s thunder? “The great day of the LORD is near… a day of wrath… distress and anguish… darkness and gloom” (Zeph. 1:14–15, ESV). Not exactly a crowd-pleaser. Our culture tolerates—even celebrates—the judgment and wrath of cancel culture, but balks at the judgment and wrath of God. Consider Adam Smith, who in 2012 filmed himself ordering a free cup of water at Chick-fil-A as protest and berated the drive-through attendant. He lost a $200,000-a-year CFO job, was effectively blacklisted, and within a few years his family was on food stamps. The “judgment” was swift and socially acceptable. But speak of divine judgment, and people recoil. Why? Because once justice turns its gaze inward, the instinct is to look away.
How could a loving God not judge? A truly good God must not let evil go unanswered. Think of the flood-control scandal in the Philippines—bloated contracts, ghost projects, luxury cars bought with stolen funds, and the human cost measured in lives lost to preventable flooding. Some will get away with it here. Are we really okay with a God who never judges that kind of evil? Scripture says otherwise: “For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive what is due for what he has done in the body, whether good or evil” (2 Cor. 5:10, ESV).
Back to Micah’s vision. The Holy One draws near, and creation convulses: mountains melt like wax, valleys split like water pouring down a steep place. Why? Because God is judging. “All this is for the transgression of Jacob and for the sins of the house of Israel… What is the high place of Judah? Is it not Jerusalem?” (Mic. 1:5, ESV). The sin is idolatry. Micah likens it to prostitution: taking what should be given in marital faithfulness and spending it elsewhere. Idolatry is turning to created things for sustenance, satisfaction, and joy—what we should seek from God alone. Worship misplaced.
So the verdict falls: “I will make Samaria a heap in the open country… I will pour down her stones into the valley and uncover her foundations” (Mic. 1:6, ESV). Imagine a great city flattened to vineyard-ready soil—rows where streets used to be. And it’s not only the north. “Her wound is incurable; it has come to Judah; it has reached to the gate of my people, to Jerusalem” (Mic. 1:9, ESV). The Assyrian empire stood at the border, instruments of judgment at the ready. The rest of the chapter is a series of wordplays forecasting the downfall of Judah’s towns: “Tell it not in Gath” (a play on “tell”), “roll yourselves in the dust” at Beth-le-aphrah (“house of dust”), the bitter town (Maroth) “waiting anxiously for good.” It’s poetry with a point: idols bring ruin.
Why do we need this? Because God is holy and deserves the worship we’ve withheld. “Ascribe to the LORD the glory due his name… worship the LORD in the splendor of holiness; tremble before him, all the earth!” (Ps. 96:7–9, ESV). He is just; therefore he judges. But here is the difference with God’s judgment: unlike cancel culture, God always pairs judgment with an off-ramp—hope and deliverance. The Holy One draws near again, centuries after Micah, and this time there are no volcanoes or earthquakes—just a manger and a quiet Judean night. “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory… full of grace and truth” (John 1:14, ESV). He still judges evil—at the cross. “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Rom. 3:23, ESV). “The wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom. 6:23, ESV). Judgment and mercy meet in Jesus; wrath is satisfied and sinners are saved.
So where is your heart as Advent nears? If you don’t yet know Christ, hear Micah’s warning and Christ’s welcome. Receive the gift. And for those who believe, don’t shy away from speaking about God’s justice. It isn’t the whole gospel—but without it, the gospel makes no sense. The world is about to turn (however faintly) toward Bethlehem. Let’s tell them why the Child came: God drew near to judge and to save, to bear wrath and bring peace. Who is like Yahweh? No one.
Excel Still More 