Do Justice. Love Mercy. Walk Humbly with Your God.

Epiph 4, Yr A    The Rev. Dr. Sheila N. McJilton @ St. Alban’s, Salisbury, MD      01 Feb, 2026

Readings:  Micah 6:1-8    Psalm 15       1 Cor1:18-31   Matthew 5:1-12

 Do Justice. Love Mercy. Walk Humbly with Your God

Prayer: “May the words I speak, oh God, be yours, and only yours. Amen.”

 There are times when being a preacher is very difficult. There are times when the lines get blurry among the roles of preacher, prophet, pastor. One of my theology professors at Virginia Seminary used to say, “Prophets don’t get paychecks.” That’s probably true. And often, real prophets don’t live to be old—too many are assassinated. Sometimes this leaves preachers and pastors wondering whether we have really followed Jesus or just preached candy coated love words that make people comfortable.

 In early January, the Episcopal bishop from New Hampshire decided to disturb the comfortable, not comfort the disturbed. At a vigil after the murder of Renee Good by an ICE agent in Minneapolis, Bishop Rob Hirschfield challenged his clergy “to get their affairs in order, to make sure they have their wills written, because it may be that now is no longer the time for statements, but for us with our bodies to stand between the powers of this world and the most vulnerable.”

In other words, he asked them to remember people like a Episcopal seminarian from New Hampshire named Jonathan Myrick Daniels, a white student killed in 1965 as he protected young Ruby Sales from a racist attack in Alabama. Or the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., with his decision to be “dangerously unselfish” in marching with sanitation workers in Memphis, Tennessee in 1968. That decision cost King his life. 

What do such challenges mean to you and me on February 1, 2026? Perhaps we begin with acknowledging that in our Christian journey, there are times when we need to be comforted. There are also times when we need to be disturbed.That may mean connecting more clearly our words and our actions as we follow Jesus of Nazareth. Scripture helps us to do this.

To wit:  Today, an Old Testament prophet named Micah steps out of the 8th century BCE to speak Truth to us today. The apostle Paul speaks Truth to the church in Corinth in about 55 of the Common Era. In some sense, this letter could be written today. Now we can wonder if words in ancient writings can really make a difference in our 21st century lives. The answer is yes—if we have ears to hear. If we are willing to step forward in even a small way to be “dangerously unselfish”—that is, to put other human beings’ needs above our own.

 A year ago, Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde stepped forward to be “dangerously unselfish.” At the Inauguration Prayer Service, Bishop Mariann asked the president to have mercy on people       who are scared. Those who live on the margins. Her words were humble. Prophetic. Brave. Based solidly on holy scripture. Yet speaking Truth to power has consequences. By the following weekend—our annual Diocese of Washington Convention—she had had to get a bodyguard. Subsequently, she got verified death threats, so one bodyguard became a full security detail. Then security had to be beefed up at Church House and the National Cathedral. Bishop Mariann’s words sparked controversy, applause,       support, hate mail, death threats. Yet she has stood firm in her convictions. In her book, How We Learn to Be Brave: Decisive Moments in Life and Faith, Bishop Mariann challenges us as people of faith to use small life choices in being courageous.

 Bravery is a process. It is cultivated throughout our lives through small choices and decisive moments.  Yet these small choices are, on some level, exactly what Micah was talking about. The prophet Micah  lived in a time when people said, “Well, if sacrificing one ram is good, then how about a lot of rams?  If a little oil on the altar means something to God, then maybe a lot of oil is better. And if things get really bad, well, maybe I should think about sacrificing my firstborn.” Micah says no. No. Micah says, “God does not care about your precious rituals, your beautiful music, your worship. God doesn’t care about your historic churches and buildings, your pet projects that make you feel good.

 Here is what God cares about. Do justice. Love kindness—or goodness. Walk humbly with God. Humility matters."He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God". 

 Throughout scripture, prophets, psalmists, apostles—all have challenged God’s people to put God first, then to put our brothers and sisters next. We are not to live in self-righteous silos where we can easily promote our own pet projects. No. We live our lives in relationship with other human beings. God calls us to expand our hearts and minds. To ask what is God’s will for all of us. That might mean we pray more. We open our hearts and listen to each other. We learn—whether we are young or old—about better ways to live more fully into God’s love. How can you do that?

How can you take small, yet decisive actions to be more faithful? Think about it. What could you do as a Jesus follower that will make a difference?

 I have some ideas, and I’m going to share some with you today. You can choose one, or two, or three, to do this week. So I want you to take out a pen.  Take an index card that you will find in your pew. As I am read some possible actions to you, my challenge is that you jot down several of these. Choose something—or several things—that challenges you in some way. Something that you could do to grow beyond yourself into a larger context, a larger sense of community.

 1. Pray—at least one time per day—for someone you despise, or at least someone you dislike heartily. Do this prayer while drinking your morning coffee. Or while you eat lunch. Or on your way to work. Or while walking or doing other exercise.

2. Take someone out for a meal—especially if it’s someone whom you know cannot afford to eat out.

3. Pay something forward for the person behind you in line. Pay some money—even $5.00—in the drive-through at Panera, or McDonald’s, or in the line at Starbucks or Dunkin’ Donuts.

4. Go visit someone in an assisted living facility, in the hospital,  or at home. If you cannot physically visit, then call them on the phone and check in on them.

5. Write and mail a card or a note of encouragement to someone you know needs comfort or strength or encouragement.

6. Put an extra $10 or $20 in the offering plate today, either because you love Jesus, or you love this parish, or both. It will help St. Alban’s do better ministry.

7. Buy as many pairs of warm socks or gloves as you can afford to, or find a blanket you aren’t using. Donate to Village of Hope.

8. Write a letter to someone in prison. Tell that person that God loves them—no matter what.

9. Push yourself out of your comfort zone this morning after the service. How? Speak to someone—either in here or at Coffee Hour—whom you have never talked to before. You never know. You may make a new friend.

10. This week, invite a neighbor or friend or work colleague to come with you next Sunday to church, then take them out for breakfast or lunch afterwards.

11. Do a good deed for someone—and do it quietly and anonymously, so they won’t know who did it—sort of like a secret Santa—except in February.

 Now do you have one, or three challenges jotted down? Good. Take your cards with you this week. Whatever you do, circle that thing or things. Bring your cards back next Sunday. We will do a special collection, and at the time of the Eucharist, I will read them out loud, so you can hear what you all have done for Jesus Christ.

Finally, I would like to offer a final reflection. I am a preacher and a pastor. I would not call myself a prophet. Yet I know one thing for sure. As a leader in God’s church, I have to be willing to use my heart, my mind, my very body as witness to God’s Truth, God’s Peace, God’s Love.

 In May of 2021, George Floyd died after being brutalized by police. Riots in major cities broke out—and when local authorities called to see if they could use our parish hall to stage National Guard members who could be sent to Baltimore, I immediately said yes, of course. Then I needed to decide whether to go to Baltimore and march in protest of Mr. Floyd’s murder. When my son called and asked me

“Where are you, mother?” I said, “Why do you want to know?” He knew what I was thinking. “Mom, please don’t go to Baltimore.” I said, “Well, I am not going, but that’s only because all roads are blocked and no one is allowed into the city right now. But let me tell you something. If I wanted to go, no one would stop me. Son, if you aren’t willing to stand for something, you’ll fall for anything. And I will always—until my last breath—fight for justice for people who don’t have a voice or rights.”

God may not call us to do big or dramatic things. Yet God does call us to take one step at a time towards unconditional love. Peace. Justice. Humility. God needs you and me to bring God’s kingdom to earth as it is in heaven.

This means working in small, daily ways to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God. Walk together, children. Don’t you get weary—as the old gospel hymn said. We are on this journey together. We are going to take each others’ hands and walk each other Home. Because that’s where God is. Amen.