Peace, safety, and shalom
I like the way today’s passage begins: “But you, O Bethlehem of Ephrathah, who are one of the little clans of Judah…” As so often happens in scripture, God is pointing somewhere unexpected as the source of something significant to come. The future king would not emerge from a high profile place like Jerusalem. God was reminding the people that David, a great king from their past, had come from Bethlehem, and that a great future ruler would also come from that place and lineage.
Micah’s audience would recognize that these lines referred to David, who ruled the unified kingdom of Israel and Judah. Not only is his birthplace mentioned; the reference to that ruler being one who will “feed his flock” also serves as a reminder, since David was a shepherd when he was young. Micah is predicting a day to come when the kingdom will be restored by one whose origin dates back centuries.
Micah the prophet, for whom this book is named, was a contemporary of the great prophet Isaiah. He lived in the 8th century BCE, when the Northern Kingdom of Israel was under threat from the Assyrians, and his prophecies are set in that period as well. Like many Bible prophets, he warns of the injustices in society and flaws of those in power. This will lead to the downfall of the kingdom and the overthrow of its capital, Samaria.
That setting differs from the time of the writing, however. While Micah might have made some of these prophecies prior to the arrival of the Assyrians, they weren’t recorded — at least not the way we read them now — until later. Those who performed the final writing and edit of the book of Micah were trying to make sense of the cruelty and destruction visited on Israel by the Assyrians. They weren’t doing it as a history lesson, though; they were living in the wake of a similar event, the destruction of Jerusalem by the Babylonians. So in part, they were making a theological statement. Bible scholar Daniel Simundson writes that “the collection bearing Micah’s name discloses something of the prophet’s theology and religious fervor: his identification with the poor and oppressed; the certainty that he had been called to prophesy by Yahweh; and his anger at the Judean leaders responsible for Jerusalem’s impending doom.” (Simundson, 689)
The chapters leading to today’s passage predict the downfall of Samaria, Jerusalem, and their leaders while pointing out the social ills present in society. Micah rails against “those who devise wickedness and evil deeds,” who seize fields and houses, who “strip the robe from the peaceful,” and who utter “empty falsehoods.” But today’s passage offers a promise of what comes later. Israel will again be led by a non-foreign power. This future ruler will come from an ancient lineage, and will bear the strength of the LORD. He will care for his people like a shepherd for his sheep, offering security and peace.
But until then, Israel will suffer through a time of labor and anticipation. Whenever the book of Micah reached its final form, whether that was during the Babylonian exile or after the Persians had taken over, the period of waiting had not yet concluded. The shortcomings cited by the writers were still in effect.
I wonder if you feel we’re in a time of trial; if you’re like me, your thoughts on that might vary from day to day. Depending on where you get your news and information, you might feel like we’re solidly in the midst of a period of labor pains. The wars in Ukraine and the Middle East and Sudan continue. Several countries, including our own, are in the midst of leadership change, and the effects of those changes are uncertain. Class inequity continues to grow, and it becomes increasingly clear that corporations and the ultra wealthy have outsize influence over our elected leaders. The causes and effects of the climate catastrophe are increasing, displacing millions of people, reducing food security, causing illness, and threatening the viability of human life on Earth.
Even if we’re not acutely experiencing the effects of war, corruption, and climate change, our concern for those who are can weigh heavily on us. And uncertainty about what the future might bring can lead to fear.
The book of Micah was written to a people who had seen their way of life change drastically, who faced existential threats, who were looking for the reasons behind their predicament . . . and who wanted to believe something better was to come.
They wanted to believe peace was attainable, and in many translations the final line of today’s scripture says that the coming ruler “shall be the one of peace.” The Hebrew word used is שָׁל֑וֹם (shalom), which is perhaps one you’ve heard before. We commonly understand it to mean “peace,” but it can carry other meanings. During my preparation for this reflection, I referred to my Jewish Study Bible and found the final lines translated as “he shall wax great to the ends of the earth, and that shall afford safety.” (Ben Zvi, 1201)
Sometimes translations are very similar, but the terms “peace” and “safety” strike me differently. Certainly those in ancient Judah would have welcomed either, but as a marginalized people, their need for safety might have been especially acute.
Depending on our circumstances, we might feel unsafe at times. We’re surrounded by mechanisms to keep us safe — from seat belts and airbags to surveillance systems to food and water regulations to law enforcement — but at the same time, we’re surrounded by those who profit from making us feel unsafe. We experience longer lives and far less violence than our ancestors, but still carry many fears with us.
What threats cause you to fear? What helps you feel safe? I’d imagine the responses to those questions can vary significantly from person to person. As I pondered my own during the past few days, I was able to better understand the connection between safety and peace. On the one hand, it’s hard to imagine being at peace without first being safe. But then I began to switch the order, envisioning peace as a means to safety.
Some define peace as the absence of conflict, but I think of it as communion with God. When we are in communion with God, it’s hard to maintain conflict and war. Peace makes us more open to hope. It might even push away irrational fears.
Yes, we have reason to be concerned about the future, and we have many trials to face, but we also have reason to hope. This season of Advent offers a reminder of that, and serves as a microcosm for those who anticipate a better day to come.
You might be wondering why this scripture passage comes up during the season of Advent despite being written hundreds of years before the birth of Jesus. One reason is the mention of Bethlehem. Christians see a connection between the subject of today’s scripture and Jesus, who was also born there. David’s being a shepherd is another connection; Jesus often used sheep as a metaphor for those in his care and those who were in need of care. One whose origin is from ancient days can also be applied to Jesus, as can the idea of one who will rule to the ends of the earth.
The early followers of Jesus could probably relate to this passage in other ways, too. The book of Micah was written to those who were subject to unjust foreign rule, whether that power was Assyrian, Babylonian, or Persian. As such, they were accustomed to “exploitation of the poor by means of debt, fraud in business affairs, corruption, and misuse of power.” (Kessler, 467) Jesus and the disciples witnessed the same under Roman rule, so Micah’s “scathing attacks against those who use political, religious, or economic power to exploit their neighbors for personal gain” would have resonated with them. (Coomber, loc. 28103)
Much of the book of Micah details the suffering that would take place in Israel and Judah, as well as the reasons behind it, but the author also looks to a better future. It’s tough to balance that against the struggles faced by the book’s audience, leading Bible scholar Daniel Simundson to write, “How does one articulate a message of hope that is honest, realistic, and able to revive the spirit of one who has been crushed?” (Simundson, 692)
Many find that hope in Jesus. Like the ruler predicted in Micah, he came to the world during a time of suffering, and like the prophecy in Micah, he recognized the suffering of the people and didn’t promise immediate realization of the coming kin-dom. But he did defy some expectations for what that kin-dom would be. He was not born in a royal setting, but rather in a stable in Bethlehem. He did not come to the world with widespread fanfare, though the glory of the occasion was revealed to a few unlikely folks, including astrologers from a distant land and some local shepherds. His mother Mary and her husband Joseph were not elite members of society. But as Simundson writes, “When God is about to do something great, human estimates of status, size, power, and influence are completely irrelevant.” (Simundson, 717)
As was true of the birth of Jesus two thousand years ago, the promised day of security and peace will arrive, but the manner of its arrival might surprise us.
A friend recently asked me if reading scripture provides me with comfort, and I had trouble coming up with a short response. I had the book of Micah on my mind, so couldn’t offer an immediate “yes.” It’s hard to feel comfortable when you’re reading about suffering, whether present or future. It’s hard to feel comfortable when you’re reading about injustice, especially when what you’re reading is reflected in our current society, though with 21st Century iterations.
But even amidst such writings, there are also promises of hope, as in today’s passage. Those are a reminder that there’s something out there larger than the seemingly insurmountable challenges that face us. Our spiritual ancestors navigated those of their day, and we will do the same. So ultimately, yes — reading scripture does provide me with comfort. It stirs questions and doubts and pushback within me, but I keep going back to it because it also offers wisdom and reassurance and its themes demonstrate God’s hope for humanity.
Today, Christian churches around the world are lighting Advent candles representing four of those themes. The first three were hope, peace, and joy, and today’s candle represents love. And just as there’s interplay between peace and safety, you can find the same between these four themes. Hope can bring peace. Peace — communion with God — can make you more open to joy. When you experience joy, it warms your heart and you’re ready to put the needs of others ahead of your own, expressing love.
Christmas can be a chaotic and busy time filled with loud music and long lines and big gestures and expensive gifts, but many of my favorite elements of Christmas are smaller and quieter. The stillness of the cold. Candles flickering in the dark. Modest but colorful light displays. These are the things that allow me space to ponder thoughts of hope, peace, joy, and love.
That might explain in part why our Sunday gatherings at Intertwined are different from what you’ll find in many churches. While we spend some time listening to readings, most of our time together is unscripted and co-created. The silence of our centering and prayer time allows, at least for me, a communion with the divine that I don’t experience when reading from a bulletin or listening to someone else speak. Our fellowship time brings with it the joy that comes from hearing different perspectives and learning the stories of my fellow sojourners. The encouragement I feel when people show up, whether for the first time or the fifteenth, gives me hope. And the entire experience that comes from the privilege of being your pastor brings with it a love I’ve not encountered before. I’m grateful for the support you’ve offered me as we’ve navigated this path together.
Sisters, brothers, siblings in Christ: I hope that during the course of this past year, regardless of how you’ve been a part of our community, Intertwined has contributed hope, peace, joy, and love to your life. And I hope the coming weeks offer the same as we venture into the new year together.
May God bless you in this Christmas season.
Amen.
Works Referenced
Ben Zvi, Ehud. “Micah.” In The Jewish Study Bible: Second Edition, edited by Adele Berlin and Marc Zvi Brettler. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014.
Coomber, Matthew, J.M.. “Micah.” In Fortress Commentary on the Bible: The Old Testament and Apocrypha, edited by Gale A. Yee, Hugh R. Page, Jr., Matthew J. M. Coomber. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2014. Kindle edition.
Kessler, Rainer. “Micah.” In The Oxford Handbook of The Minor Prophets, edited by Julia M. O’Brien. New York City: Oxford University Press, 2021.
Simundson, Daniel J. “Micah.” In New Interpreter’s Bible, Volume V. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2015.
