Micah

Micah announces judgment on Samaria and Jerusalem — the mountains melt under God's feet and valleys split apart. Samaria's idols will be shattered and its wages scattered. Micah mourns barefoot and naked, wailing like a jackal over the coming devastation.

Woe to those who plot evil on their beds and carry it out by morning — seizing fields and oppressing families. False prophets say peace when there is wine and beer. Yet God promises to gather the remnant of Israel like sheep in a pen.

Leaders who should know justice instead eat the flesh of God's people. Prophets lead people astray; they prophesy for money. Because of them, Zion will be plowed like a field. Micah is filled with the Spirit's power to declare Israel's sin boldly.

In the last days, God's mountain will be exalted, nations will stream to it, and swords will be beaten into plowshares. The lame and outcast will become a strong nation. Though Zion is now in distress like a woman in labor, God will redeem them from Babylon.

But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though small among Judah's clans — from you will come one who will be ruler over Israel, whose origins are from ancient days. This messianic prophecy directs the Magi to Jesus's birthplace. The promised ruler will shepherd his flock in God's strength.

God takes Israel to court, with the mountains as witnesses. What does the Lord require? Not thousands of rams or rivers of oil, but to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God — one of the most famous ethical summaries in all of Scripture.

Micah laments: the faithful have vanished, everyone lies in wait for blood, trust no one — not even family. Yet the book ends with astonishing hope: God will again have compassion, tread iniquities underfoot, hurl sins into the sea, and show faithfulness to Abraham — who is a God like you, pardoning iniquity?