Micah 7: 18–20

Third Sunday after Trinity

Delivered by Elke von Schlichting and Dorothee Backeberg

May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with us all now. Amen.

Dear congregation, the prophet Micah lived around 700 years before Christ, in a time much like our own: one of great political uncertainty and social injustice. The rich were growing ever richer, the poor were oppressed, and corruption characterised public life. 

The prophet does not shy away from clearly naming these wrongs. His message contains harsh words of judgement against a people who had turned away from God. Yet the final thought in the Book of Micah is not judgement, but hope. In the end, he turns his gaze to God’s nature and concludes his book with a hymn of praise to God’s mercy – to his open arms, which bestow forgiveness and a new beginning.

I shall read the sermon text from the Book of the Prophet Micah, chapter 7, verses 18–20.

‘Who is a God like you, who forgives sin and pardons the guilt of those who remain as a remnant of his inheritance; who does not hold on to his anger for ever, for he delights in showing mercy! He will have compassion on us once more, trample our guilt underfoot and cast all our sins into the depths of the sea. You will remain faithful to Jacob and show mercy to Abraham, just as you swore to our fathers of old.”

Micha brings the people – even though they do not deserve it – a great hope: there is a merciful God. A God who acts differently from human beings. People remember mistakes, hold on to hurts and keep score of one another’s faults. God, however, delights in mercy. He shows compassion, forgives and grants a fresh start.

(Do enters from the back carrying a heavy rucksack) “Oh, my rucksack is soooo heavy, I can hardly carry it any longer. My shoulders are breaking under these burdens that accompany me every day and weigh down on me like heavy weights. I can’t go on. Where is a God like that, who will take these burdens off me?”

Elke: Yes, where is such a God? (– points to the cross –) – there is that God! There we may lay down our burdens:

Do places his rucksack on a small table. It’s all a struggle.

Elke: Our guilt (Do places down the ‘guilt’ stone)

Guilt is a very real part of our lives. We’ve all been in situations where we’ve hurt others – through our words, our actions, or by failing to act. We often try to carry on, to explain ourselves, or to push it out of our minds. But we realise that what weighs on us doesn’t simply disappear just because we ignore it. The good news of faith is this: we don’t have to bear this burden alone. With Jesus, we can be honest about what is weighing us down and cast off what is holding us captive. He gives us a fresh start.

Do: Our disappointment (Elke puts down the ‘disappointment’ stone)

Disappointments are also part of our lives. The word ‘disappointment’ actually means that one's hopes or expectations are defeated and we recognise reality. This can be painful when expectations are dashed, people let us down, or plans turn out differently from what we had hoped. Sometimes we are even disappointed in God because he acts differently from how we have prayed or expected. But disappointment does not mean that God is not there – often we see only a small part of the whole picture, whilst He has the whole picture in mind. We can also lay our disappointments at Jesus’ feet. He remains by our side, not only in good times, but also when things are difficult. And sometimes it is precisely there that a new path emerges, one we could not see before.

Elke: Our conflicts (Do puts down the ‘conflict’ stone)

Conflicts often start small – through misunderstandings, thoughtless words or differing expectations. A minor issue can quickly become a major burden. People avoid one another, remain silent or carry hurtful words around with them for a long time. This takes its toll and strains relationships. Jesus, too, did not shy away from conflict when truth and justice were at stake. Yet his aim was never to prove himself right, but to win people over. That is why he encourages us to make peace and seek ways of reconciliation. For relationships are more valuable than the need to always be right. Reconciliation begins when someone takes the first step: by listening, forgiving or asking for forgiveness. Often, all it takes is a phone call, an honest conversation or the words: ‘I’m sorry.’ 

Do: Our worries (Elke puts down the worry stone)

Worries focus on what might happen. They thrive on ‘what if?’ and often blind us to the present. Starting small, they grow rapidly and sap our strength. How often do we lie awake at night, going round in circles with the same thoughts? Jesus invites us not to bear our worries alone, but to place them in God’s hands. When God says, ‘Do not worry about anything’, this does not mean that we should no longer take responsibility. It means that we do not have to bear our fears and burdens alone. We may plan, act and make provisions – whilst at the same time trusting that God holds our lives in his hands. Worries seek to hold on to the future; faith trusts that God is already where we have not yet arrived.

Elke: Our failure (Do puts down the ‘failure’ stone)

Failure is also part of our lives. It reveals our limitations and can trigger feelings of shame. We often end up feeling that we are not good enough or that we have let others down. Perhaps we have failed to complete an important task, made the wrong decision, or fallen short of our own expectations. Sometimes such mistakes stay with us for a long time and make us doubt ourselves. Yet a mistake is not the end of our story. Where we fail, something new can begin – if we pick ourselves up, ask for forgiveness and move on. God does not define us by our failures, but by his grace. His love for us does not depend on how successful or flawless we are.

Elke: Dear congregation, perhaps you, too, are carrying that heavy rucksack of life with you today. Imagine if you were to put everything that is weighing you down this morning into it: guilt, disappointments, conflicts, worries and failures – stone by stone, burden by burden. 

And then God himself comes through the church door, picks up every single stone, takes everything to the deepest part of the sea, throws it all in there, and nobody ever sees those burdens again. In the time of the prophet Micah, the sea was a symbol of the unknown and of what was lost forever. Even today, despite extensive marine research, large parts of the deep sea remain out of our reach.  

When we watch the large ships on the horizon as they continue their journey along the coastline, looking tiny, the sheer vastness of the ocean becomes quite clear. But if you want to visualise this in more practical terms, you need to know how deep the ocean is. To do this, you could take a closer look at the deepest known point in the oceans, the so-called ‘Challenger Deep’ in the Mariana Trench. It lies in the western Pacific, with a depth of at least 11 km. That would be the distance of the Huguenot Tunnel between Worcester and Paarl, or the swimming distance between Robben Island and Cape Town harbour.  Although the American researcher Victor Vescovo dived to a record depth of 10.9 km in the Mariana Trench in 2019, only a fraction of this trench has so far been explored by humans.

Perhaps this immense sense of scale will help us to understand God’s grace and forgiveness a little better. When God casts our sins ‘into the depths of the sea’, he casts them into a place that seems beyond human reach.

The astonishing – or rather, the sad – thing is that we humans often simply dive in after them in our thoughts. We dredge up old mistakes. We remember our failures. We blame ourselves. But God does not do that. What He forgives, He does not hold on to. What He casts into the sea, He does not fish out again. What God forgives is final. Our guilt is not merely covered up, but permanently removed – so deeply that it no longer stands between people, or between God and people. That is the greatest gift, and for that Jesus went to the cross.  We can be assured that we serve a God who delights not in judgement but in grace and mercy.

And precisely when we are tempted to pack our burden-laden rucksack once more, God invites us: Trust me anew. Even where you do not understand.

Therefore: (Do gestures towards the empty rucksack and walks out, relieved) Do not go home with a full rucksack if you can leave it here. Do not walk with your shoulders slumped if you are allowed to lift them. Do not carry old burdens if you have been granted new life. – That is the promise that applied to the people of Judah and the people of Israel in the days of the prophet Micah, and that is the promise by which we too may live today, free from the burden of our rucksacks.  

At the start of the service, you brought with you small cards and symbolic stones of guilt. Outside the church stands a deep vessel of water. Anyone who wishes may detach their stone from the card and throw it in – as a sign that God casts our guilt into the depths of the sea and wishes to free us from our burdens.

Perhaps this won’t make all our worries and problems disappear at once. Some burdens will remain, or continue to weigh on our minds. But we don’t have to bear them alone. God promises to be by our side and to give us strength for what lies ahead. Anyone who isn’t ready to let go of their stone today may set it down later – in everyday life, on a walk, or whilst on holiday. But please don’t put it away in a drawer at home. Let it become a sign that we can entrust our burdens to God time and again. The little card you are welcome to take home is also meant to remind you of this.

We may be assured that God wishes not only to make life easier, but to make it new, and that he always welcomes us with open arms. This is the hope promised by the prophet Micah in 700 BC, and it is also our hope today.

And may the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.