There is a kind of goodness that stays safely inside the walls of a comfortable life.

Oh, it means well. It keeps its nose clean. It shows up on Sunday and pays its dues, but it never quite gets its hands dirty.

Isaiah wrote into a moment just like that. The people of Israel were observing every ritual

and bringing every sacrifice. On the surface, everything looked right, but God was unimpressed because the widows were going

undefended. The orphans were being ignored, and all that religious activity had somehow

never made it out the front door. That is the ache at the center of Isaiah chapter 1, verse 17.

Not a call to try harder at religion, a call to let faith move through you and into the world

around you, to learn actively and intentionally how to do good. As we begin, we're going to

pray through a verse from the prophet Micah and after each phrase respond aloud with the words,

Lord, let it be so. Let those words be your honest offering he has

told you oh man what is good Lord let it be so and what does the Lord require of you

but to do justice?

Lord, let it be so.

To love kindness, Lord, let it be so.

And to walk humbly with your God. Lord, let it be so. Now I want you to take a moment in silence.

Just bring whatever personal weight you're carrying into that same posture, humble, open, willing.

And Lord, let it be so. Notice what happens inside you when you hear the words learn to do good.

Is there a quiet sting, maybe a sense of unfinished business?

Maybe a face or a situation comes to mind without you inviting it.

Or maybe you feel something more like resistance, a subtle pull toward justifying your current pace,

toward listing the good things you already do.

Just notice that.

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