Justice

Scripture: Micah 6:6-8; Matthew 5:1-12 Series: Epiphany

Preached February 1, 2026 in Epiphany, this sermon on Micah 6:6-8 and the Beatitudes (Matthew 5:1-12) argues that justice is a cultivated virtue rooted in practice, not abstract theory. Drawing on Aquinas, MacIntyre, and his own translation of the Beatitudes (rendering makarios as ‘happy’), Pruitt contends Jesus inverts worldly meritocratic justice: we are loved where we are, yet not left there. He maps Wesley’s General Rules onto Micah 6:8 and points to true justice residing not in any worldly system but at the cross, inviting the congregation to the table as Lent approaches.

Illustrations: teaching-kids-poker, aquinas-pious-old-woman, changing-account-of-faith, potter-stewart-know-it-when-i-see-it, personal-justice-system-experiences, macintyre-justice-as-virtue, wesley-general-rules-micah, hiker-goes-his-own-way

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February 1, 2026

Micah 6:6-8 Matthew 5:1-12

Justice

“With what shall I come before the Lord
and bow myself before God on high?
Shall I come before him with burnt offerings,
with calves a year old?
Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams,
with ten thousands of rivers of oil?
Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression,
the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?”
He has told you, O mortal, what is good,
and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice and to love kindness
and to walk humbly with your God? - Micah 6:6-8

When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain, and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. And he began to speak and taught them, saying:
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
“Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.
“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
“Blessed are those who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
“Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you. - Matthew 5:1-12

We are getting to the point in our boys life where we teach them card games from time to time. For example, different games of poker, not that I’m condoning gambling. I am still advocate of the historic Methodist position against gambling, which, if you’d like to have a discussion about, I be more than happy to.

I teach my kids, though, the different games of poker so they grow up into the world and not be out of place. How to play blackjack for instance. Or how to play Texas Hold ‘Em. In both instances, it is helpful to start playing the game really fast so they understand even what questions to have. If we spend too much time on concepts, nobody wants to actually play the game. The point of the game is not an opportunity to learn some new rules.

Last week, I spoke about the light of justice shining on our hearts as well as outside of ourselves, and the power of God to break the rod of injustice. This week we’re going to just talk about justice.

Some people talk about putting theory before practice, but I don’t think that actually follows the pattern of our lived experiences. We can only theorize after we do something, after we act—not before. Theories help us to understand. Some of us have completely untheorized lives, and I think that’s perfectly okay. One writer I appreciate¹ has this line about how all of theology is trying to articulate what one pious old woman believes in her heart. Theology is not the point of faith, no matter what kids in seminary say. Theology helps us to look to the object of our faith, God. And as another teacher of mine once said, if you need a theory to believe that Jesus rose from the dead, believe in that theory—don’t believe in Jesus.

So when we talk about justice, I think it’s important for us to start with: What are we doing, and where are we coming from? We have our readings today, both central texts of the Christian faith. First, Micah 6:8: “What does the Lord require from us? To do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God.” We have the beginning of the Sermon on the Mount—the Beatitudes—which offer this brief and poetic articulation of how to act justly in a way that is paradoxical in our world. So what does it all mean? Now, like I said, you don’t have to theorize in order to be a Christian. Our belief is in Jesus Christ, not in theories about Jesus Christ. The reason for theology and theorizing about God in Jesus is to make sure we’re worshiping the right God. It’s idolatry prevention as well. It’s to help share our faith, to make sure that we can give an account—in the language of Paul, to always be able to give an account for our faith—and to articulate it in our own words. What are we even believing? Being able to give an account is, I think, a lifelong journey.

My account of faith at 43 is different than it was at 23, which is different than it was at 8. I’m blessed to have believed all my life, and that’s not the case for a lot of people. Their accounts of faith are different because of their experiences. I had moments of struggle with faith that led me to a deeper appreciation of who God is and what God has done for us. I think we should understand justice in a similar way. Justice, so often, is unarticulated. In the words of Potter Stewart over a different topic, we know it when we see it, and we know when we don’t see it. And yet when we don’t articulate justice, we are left open for distortion and manipulation by unjust people.

When we’re talking about justice—wherever we are, in a secular or philosophical concept—it’s embedded within a tradition of both ideas and practices. Justice isn’t simply a theory. It is what people do and what actually takes place. The justice system of the United States of America is embedded within federal laws, state laws, the precedent of former cases, and the practices on the ground on that virtue. All of these inform our understanding of justice.

But we each have an experience of the justice system. Mine is very minimal. I’ve testified—or almost signed up to testify—in family court once, and in a different county court before. I’ve never been called for jury duty. I’ve gotten pulled over a few times, once every five years. Hopefully it’s once ever again.

Those are my interactions with the justice system. I’ve had cops come over to ask about our fire burning in the backyard, to see if it was contained. It was. These are my personal experiences of the justice system. Many of you have had different experiences, and that impacts your ideas of justice in America. When we think about justice in the Bible, we need to understand that our experiences inform that understanding as well—how we were raised informs that as well. What we see others experience also informs that. Justice, in a biblical understanding, is part of a virtue tradition. It’s not just about an idea; it’s about cultivation. It’s about a set of habits and practices of giving each person their due. Alasdair MacIntyre, this great philosopher who just passed away, talked about justice as a virtue in three ways:

• Desert-based claims: People deserve certain things based on their roles, contributions, and needs within a community.
• Participation in practices: Justice relates to the goods internal to social practices and how they’re distributed.
• The common good: Justice is oriented toward enabling human flourishing within communities, not just protecting individual rights.

Justice as a virtue is not simply a negation, but an offering. Justice, if we follow the Ten Commandments, is mostly negative: Don’t do this, don’t do that. Whereas justice in the New Testament is positive: Love God. Love your neighbor. Forgive those who hurt you. When we go slowly through the Sermon on the Mount, it becomes even stranger to articulate—especially when we compare faith to worldly justice.

Here is my translation of the beatitudes

3. Happy (Μακάριοι) the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of the heavens.
4. Happy those mourning, for they will be comforted.
5. Happy the mild (πραεῖς), for they will inherit the land (γῆν).
6. Happy the hungering ones and the thirsting ones for justice (δικαιοσύνην), for they will be filled.
7. Happy the merciful, for they will receive mercy.
8. Happy the clean (καθαροὶ) in heart, for they will see God.
9. Happy the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God.
10. Happy those having been persecuted on account of justice, for theirs is the kingdom of the heavens.
11. Happy are you when they shall assault you, and should persecute, and shall say all evil against you, lying on account of me.
12. Take pleasure (χαίρετε) and rejoice exceedingly (ἀγαλλιᾶσθε), for your wages.

One of the ways that Jesus inverts our expectations of justice can be understood in how Jesus transforms are understanding of the goal of justice. By that, I mean, that Jesus transforms our understanding of what happiness is. I translated the Greek word Makarios, as happy because that comes closer to the meaning of the word in Jesus’s time. The archaic use of blessèd that was chosen by the translators of the king James Bible offers a poetry to this passage, but it is a poetry that makes it distant for us. The Bible isn’t there to remind us of our childhood, but to reveal God to us here and now. God’s offer of life abundant to us now, and in the future through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

We always have to start where we are. Even if we would rather be somewhere else in our life, we have to start where we are. The justice of the God revealed in Jesus Christ is that here and now your life matters. You are loved not because of what you’ve done of where you’ve been or who you know. The false meritocracy of the world is revealed as a sham. We all try to get by, however we can, but that does not define us or offer us justice. Those who work hardest? Do not get the most out of life. Those who grind are often the same ones who are ground to dust. Where you are now? You are loved. You are loved so much that God won’t let you stay there. That is what it’s so amazing about God justice.

Faith isn’t about affirming all the decisions we’ve made or washing away all the mistakes we’ve made. Faith is believing more in Jesus than we believe in ourselves. God loves us so much not to leave us to our patterns of destruction. And God loves us so much to not put the burden of saving the world on our shoulders. The world needs saving. We look around today and it is still the case. That calls each of us to respond in the ways in which we are able to. But our response only makes sense because of the prior action of God in our life. We were already loved by God. As sinners, as those unworthy of love, as those who have fallen short, we were offered another way. Micah 6:8 points to that way: do justice, love mercy, walk humbly with God.

When John Wesley put together the general rules of the United societies in the 1730s and 40s, he really was riffing on Micah 6:8.

Micah says, “do justice.” John Wesley says, “first, do no harm.” Make sure you are not actively harming anyone. This isn’t about being nice but about loving our neighbors enough to see how we are treating them.

Micah says, “Love mercy.” Wesley says, “Do all the good you can, which is a mercy. The maximum good. is mercy. When we don’t know what else to do, let us do what good we can.

Finally, Micah says, “Walk humbly with God.” John Wesley says, “follow the ordinances of God.” Do the things God told us to do. Do the things Jesus told us to do. that is walking humbly with God. There’s a lack of humility to say that I have my own path.

If you’re going on a hike, and someone says, “I’m gonna go my own way.” Would anyone credit that as humility? No. It makes the hike much more difficult for everyone when people refuse to walk together.

We come to church we pray together, we serve together, we give together, because of who God is. There would probably be easier things that we could do if we just decided to choose whatever we were going to do, but that is not the path.

We have to start where we are. But God doesn’t start there. God began before we were born. And the brokenness of this world points, not to the weakness of God, but to our need of a savior. The justice of God is not found in any system of the world, but on a hill far away. As we get closer to the Season of Lent, may we remember where true justice resides. May we not be afraid to live it in our lives. May come to the table ready to receive from the one who laid down his life for us.

In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Footnotes

1. Thomas Aquinas ↩