Saturday, November 14, 2026

The Requirements

Rev. Debbie Cato
Micah 1:3-5; 5:2-5a; 6:6-8
Bethany Presbyterian Church
November 15, 2026

The Requirements

 

Heavenly Father, we come before You today, asking for clarity and understanding as we listen to Your message. Help us to open our hearts & minds to Your teachings & then most importantly, to apply your teachings to our daily lives.   Amen.

 

Today we are in the Prophets.  The Prophets consist of 17 Books in the Old Testament. They are broken up into two classifications - The Major Prophets and the Minor Prophets.

There are five books in the Major Prophets classification.  These books are longer and address broader themes, including significant historical and visionary messages. There are 12 shorter books, classified as Minor Prophets. Their content is more focused, often addressing specific calls to repentance and hope. Both groups share the same divine calling and convey messages of judgment, repentance, and restoration, reflecting God's sovereignty and love. 

Our scripture reading today is from The Old Testament Prophet Micah.  He was among the earliest of the Minor Prophets.  Micah prophesied during the late 8th century before the birth of Christ.  He was a younger contemporary of Isaiah of Jerusalem.  Micah is described as “offering a theological interpretation of the dizzying events near the end of the 8th century; the fall of Samaria, the expansion of Jerusalem fueled by emigrants from the north, and the international situation made unstable by Assyria – an aggressive superpower.”[1] The dizzying events. Interesting description.  Micah expresses disdain for the corruptions and pretentions of Jerusalem and its leaders.  He champions the traditions of early Israel.  Micah condemned religious practice untethered from ethical performance.  He clung to the hope of the future. 

Micah has 7 chapters.  Chapters 1-3 are mainly oracles of judgement.  Chapters 4-5 contain oracles of hope.  Chapters 6 and 7 begin with judgement and move into hope[2].  I’m going to read verses from chapter 1 (so listen for judgement), from chapter 5 (so listen for hope), and from chapter 6, where you should hear judgement that moves into hope.  Listen now for the word of the Lord. 

 

1:1-5a

1 The word of the Lord that came to Micah of Moresheth in the days of Kings Jotham, Ahaz, and Hezekiah of Judah, which he saw concerning Samaria and Jerusalem.

Judgment Pronounced against Samaria

2 Hear, you peoples, all of you;
    listen, O earth, and all that is in it,
and let the Lord God be a witness against you,
    the Lord from his holy temple.
3 For the Lord is coming out of his place
    and will come down and tread upon the high places of the earth.
4 Then the mountains will melt under him,
    and the valleys will burst open
like wax near the fire,
    like waters poured down a slope.
5 All this is for the transgression of Jacob
    and for the sins of the house of Israel.

5:2-8

[c]But you, O Bethlehem of Ephrathah,
    who are one of the little clans of Judah,
from you shall come forth for me
    one who is to rule in Israel,
whose origin is from of old,
    from ancient days.
3 Therefore he shall give them up until the time
    when she who is in labor has brought forth;
then the rest of his kindred shall return
    to the people of Israel.
4 And he shall stand and feed his flock in the strength of the Lord,
    in the majesty of the name of the Lord his God.
And they shall live secure, for now he shall be great
    to the ends of the earth,
5 and he shall be the one of peace.

6:6-8  What God Requires

6 “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?
7 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?”
8 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?

The Word of the Lord

 

What the Lord requires of you, is to do justice, love kindness and walk humbly with your God.  

The verses I read from chapter 1 are condemning the Judean society and its leaders.  It is an indictment of Samaria, the capital of the Northern Kingdom of Israel.  The Lord is coming to punish Samaria.

Chapter 5 prophesizes a “new David” that will arise, (the hope) not from Jerusalem but from humble Bethlehem – the city where King David was born.  This “new David” – this ideal king - will rule in this ideal time that Micah is prophesying.   Anywonder this passage is the lectionary reading this time of year.

The verses I read from Chapter 6 are probably the most well-known verses from Micah.  Remember, chapter six begins with judgement and ends in hope.

It’s as if Micah is mocking the people – Sure, you bring your perfect sacrifices before God.  The problem is, you think that’s enough.  You think that’s all you need to do.  You think your religious practices make up for the way you live.  The things you do.  But actually, what God requires of us is to do justice, love kindness, and humbly walk with God.  Notice, he doesn’t want us to do these things.  He doesn’t suggest.  He requires.  That’s a strong verb.  Require.  There is no way around it.  We must do justice, love kindness, and humbly walk with God.

 

Micah says, your sacrifices – your religious practices (maybe for us it’s coming to church, praying, going to Bible study, reading the Bible), these things are all meaningless if you are not being who God expects you to be.  If you are not doing (doing is an action verb – it means actually doing something).  If you are not doing justice, loving kindness, and humbly walking with God, these practices of ours, this religious stuff we do, this religious stuff we talk about, are meaningless.

When I was praying about this sermon, I thought about how best to get the importance of living as God requires across.  I decided I was to tell you a story.  A story that I think perfectly reflects these passages from Micah.  This condemnation of Samaria and Jerusalem.  The promise of hope.  The condemnation of religious practices and, God’s requirements – justice, loving kindness, mercy (or walking humbly with God). 

My first call after seminary was to Casper, Wyoming.  The church had received one of the last grants from the national PCUSA denomination for redevelopment.  The church had not had a full-time pastor for 15 years, and they hadn’t had any pastor for 4 years.  They just had pulpit supply.  Membership was about 30 people – average age in their 70’s.  There were no children.  The church was dying.

 The grant allowed the church to hire a full-time pastor for 5 years.  They were required to do certain things to grow their presence in the community and to be the church.  This grant and all the requirements were negotiated prior to my call.

 During my interviews – the first few were over zoom, they shared a wonderful power-point they had done as part of the grant process.  It described the neighborhood – the church was on the “other side of the tracks.”  It was smack-dab in the middle of the poorest part of Casper.  The alternative high school was 2 blocks from the church. A large percentage of the students were unhoused.  Behind the church was a housing program and services for moms and their children who were survivors of domestic violence.  A high percentage of their population was Hispanic or black.  The Boys and Girls club was 4 blocks from the church.  The North Casper neighborhood (where the church was located) was a food desert.  There were not any grocery stores within 7 miles, and the soil was hard clay and would not grow food.

I talked with the Wyoming Presbytery and they told me that the planning for this grant took 2 years and the involvement of the whole congregation.  They told me that there were several other churches in the presbytery that adopted this church a mission of their own church.  They were financially supporting the redevelopment in addition to the 5-year grant and they wanted to do everything they could to see this church survive. They said this church was pumped and excited to go out and be the church.  I talked to many members of the congregation.  They were indeed excited to go out and be the church.  To make a difference in their neighborhood.

This was the kind of church I had been asking God to call me to.  My theology says that the church should be out in the world.  You know, “doing justice, loving kindness, and walking humbly with God.”

I got to Casper and it was just as they described.  The neighborhood was ripe for ministry.  The congregation was excited.  I felt so blessed to be their pastor.

 The first year started slow.  I got to know the congregation and began teaching them what it meant to have a pastor.  I got to know Casper as a whole and North Casper in particular.  I introduced myself to the Boys and Girls Club.  I went to the alternative high school and met with the principal and the counselor.  I came to understand their needs.  I got to know the director of the program for survivors of domestic violence.  I learned how we might come along side of what they were doing.  I started teaching budgeting classes in the evenings in their community center.  I got to know the residents, hear their stories, and learn what they thought they needed.

The first Christmas I was there, we worked with the big presbyterian church in town and had a shopping day at our church for the children from the DV program.  They came and “shopped” for a gift for their mothers.  We had bath supplies, scarves, pajamas, socks, books – lots of things for them to choose from.  They “bought” a gift for their Mom and we helped them wrap it. We had Christmas crafts for them to make.  We took photos of each child and they made a picture frame to put their picture in for their mothers.  We read the Christmas story and sang a couple songs.  We fed them lunch.  We served 26 children that first year and the day was amazing.  It was such a blessing.

The next year, we took some of the property we owned next to the church that was just a lot filled with overgrown weeds.  Working with the “Young Professional Rotarians” we built a community garden with 10 raised beds and filled them with good, rich soil. Members of the community could rent a bed for the summer for $10 so they could plant vegetables and flowers.  We provided the plants and seeds, the hoses, the garden tools and the water.  We had someone come and teach  them how to plant seeds, grow vegetables and care for them.  We built a beautiful playground for the children, and benches for anyone to just sit.  I loved looking out my office window to just watch people from the community working together – children digging up weeds in their raised beds.  In the process, people got to know one another.  Help one another.  There was laughter.

We decided to hold Vacation Bible School – first time in over a decade. Eleven years without any kind of children’s ministry. Again, the large presbyterian church provided volunteers and curriculum. Their music director taught the songs and the skits.  We had 47 children at VBS.  They sang, and learned, and laughed a lot. We fixed them lunch – members of my congregation cooked the food but they would not come out of the kitchen.  They did not want to mix with the children.  But, it was so much fun.  It felt magical to me.  The church was alive!

That Sunday, we focused the whole service on VBS.  The children sang their songs and performed the skits they learned.  The sanctuary, that sat 150 people but usually had only 25-30 people on Sunday mornings, wasn’t empty. The sanctuary was filled with parents and grandparents of these children.  Hispanic, black, eastern European. I shed some tears because there was so much life in that sanctuary that morning.  It was beautiful.  It was God’s Kingdom on earth, I thought.

 After the service we had a picnic.  We put tables and chairs up in our parking lot and it was full of people – laughing and talking and eating.  The regional food bank donated a huge slab of ribs to us and after church we BBQ’d.  The executive presbyter manned the BBQ and made delicious ribs himself.  We had potato salad and beans and bread and something for dessert too, but I don’t remember what.  We had people from other presbyterian churches come for the BBQ.  This is what the Presbytery had seen in this little church in North Casper.  My heart was filled with joy.

I looked and noticed that my congregation were all sitting together away from the crowd.  They looked unhappy – no one was smiling.  No one was eating.  I could tell they were not enjoying themselves.  Everyone else was so happy. They weren’t mingling or talking with anyone else.  Just each other.  I walked over to them and asked if I could get them some ribs.  No, they said.  We’ll talk to you at session.  I couldn’t imagine what was wrong.

Session met that Thursday and I was told that they did not want “those people” in their church.  “Those children” had filled garbage cans during the week.  The floor needed to be vacuumed on Saturday.  They did not want “those people” in their church on Sunday.  I was told I could not do anything that would involve bringing people into the church.  “They are different than us,” they said. “We don’t want them here.”

Friends, I was heart-sick.  The week had been so beautiful.  People God loved were being served in our church.  Incredible children that had experienced so much trauma felt loved and cared for. They laughed.  They were able to be children.  They were so proud on that Sunday morning, singing their songs and performing their skits in front of their parents and grandparents.  Our all-white congregation wasn’t all-white that Sunday.  It’s wasn’t even all American!

Four months later, the church closed their doors.  The congregation voted that they would rather close than have other people share their space.  People that were different than they were.  They couldn’t do what they had planned.  What they had talked about.

6:6-8  What God Requires

6 “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?
7 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?”
8 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?

The Lord requires that we do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with your God.

Micah’s judgement of Samaria fits the church in Wyoming – and other churches - so well .  They talked about being involved in the neighborhood.  They talked about developing ministries for the people that lived in North Casper.  They talked about all the things they wanted to do. They planned for two years. But when it came down to doing it; when it was time to actually interact with people.  To welcome people.  To share our normally empty space with people, the answer was no.  They were not willing to “do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God.  They couldn’t do it.

Just like this church in Wyoming, this congregation, Bethany Presbyterian Church, has a chance to also actually do what God requires.  You’ve talked for years and years about how open and welcoming you are.  You’ve called yourselves the most progressive church in our presbytery.  God took the tragedy of a fire and turned it into a project that holds the potential for you to do God’s work.  To actually be open.  To actually be welcoming.  To do justice, loving kindness, and show mercy.  Not just toward people just like you.  But toward people that are different.  Different skin tones, different cultures, languages, ways of doing things.  You have the potential of welcoming children into your space and letting them fill your garbage cans and leave scraps of paper on the floor.  You have the potential of turning these quiet, small worship services into something that resembles the Kingdom of God.  Noisy, alive, worship that includes children and people who may worship different than you are used to..  I have to tell you, I’m really envious!

You have the opportunity of doing more than just the religious stuff that we pride ourselves in. You have the opportunity to do more than just pray, just sing, just listen to sermons.  You have the opportunity to stop just talking and actually live it out.  You have the opportunity to do justice, to love kindness, to walk humbly with God. 

The question is, will you take advantage of the opportunity God is giving you to be His Church?  To step out of your comfort zone?  To grow in ways you didn’t know you could – or even that you should.   Will you actually do it?

Will you take advantage of the opportunity God is giving you to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with God?  Or like the church in Casper, will you decide you’d rather die than let “those people” in?

Choose wisely.   Amen.

 



[1] The New Oxford Annotated Bible, NRSV with Apocrypha.  P. 1325 (Hebrew Bible)
[2] The New Oxford Annotated Bible, NRSV with Apocrypha.  P. 1325 (Hebrew Bible)


Sunday, September 27, 2026

Strong Women of the Bible: The Bleeding Woman

Rev. Debbie Cato
Leviticus 15:19-23 and Mark 5:21-43
Manito Presbyterian Spokane
September 27, 2026


Strong Women of the Bible – The Bleeding Woman

 

This is the third sermon on strong women in the Bible that I’ve preached here at Manito.  I think I told you that I decided to choose strong women in the New Testament – strong women that Jesus met through his ministry.  I also decided to look at women that you might not expect to be the focus of a sermon.  You see, there are different ways of being strong.

First I chose the Samaritan woman – known only by her ethnicity.  Often, we look at the Samaritan woman and focus on what we assume to be sin.  She’s been married five times and currently lives with a man she’s not married to.  Surely scandal should be the focus for this woman.  But that’s not the heart of the story.  As I stated in that sermon,  “Jesus interaction with this Samaritan woman at the well is transforming.  She goes from hiding from people because she’s ashamed, to being an evangelizer for Christ.    The community goes from shunning her because of what they had assumed about her, to believing her.”  I think that’s a description of a strong woman.

My second sermon was about Mary Magdalene. Jesus healed Mary’s physical and mental well-being and that transformational healing led to Mary’s unwavering loyalty to Jesus.  Mary was deeply integrated into Jesus’ community of disciples.  She was a leading and devoted follower of Jesus. She stayed with Jesus during his crucifixion and as he hung on the cross.  She was the first witness to Jesus’ resurrection. It was Mary Magdalene who was the first to proclaim the good news of Jesus’ resurrection. I ended this sermon saying, “Mary’s experiences remind us of the profound impact that faith and love can forge in our lives, and in the lives of others. The courage and hope portrayed in Mary’s story encourages us to push ahead, spreading love and light, ensuring that we each play our part in this grand narrative of faith.”

As you’ve already figured out, the strong woman I chose today is, as scripture describes her, “a woman who had been suffering from a hemorrhage for twelve years.”  Once again, this is another woman without a name.  She’s known by her ailment – she’s been bleeding for twelve years.  Twelve years.  Imagine!  “Look!  There’s that woman who has been bleeding for twelve years.” 

First, we heard in the passage from Leviticus the true shame of this woman’s condition.  According to Hebrew law, this woman was unclean.  For twelve years this woman was considered impure.  Impure. What a branding.  Every bed she lay on was unclean and anyone touching the bed was unclean.  Everything she sat on was unclean and anyone who touched what she sat on, was unclean.  For twelve years.  Twelve years. 

The Jewish cleanliness laws were strictly adhered to.  It is very likely that she was ostracized from any family she had.  For twelve years!  Ostracized from her community.  For twelve years.  After all, if anyone who touched her became unclean, she would not be welcome, anywhere.

This woman – I wish she had a name – had tried everything.   Scripture tells us that “She had endured much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had; and she was no better, but rather grew worse.”  This twelve-year quest for a cure would have drained her of her finances and it would have prevented her from participating in any activities during that time.

This woman was in a state of perpetual cultic impurity. So for twelve long years, this woman not only suffered physically, but she was shamed and isolated.  That’s a lot of suffering.  It would be easy to understand if she were depressed.  If she were completely hopeless.  It would be understandable if she felt bitter and angry.  Yet there is nothing in scripture to tell us she that she felt this way. 

This woman heard about Jesus, came up behind him in the crowd, and touched his cloak.  This woman is bold!  She’s strong!  Everyone knew of her affliction.  She was shamed and isolated from her community.  But she heard about Jesus and believed that if she could just touch the hem of his robe, she would be healed. All she had to do was touch it.

Honestly, this woman blows my mind.  Think about all the strikes against her.  First, she was a woman – a 2nd class citizen in Jesus’ time.  Then, think of the attitude the community must have had about her.  Impurity was shunned. Impurity was a sin.  Even today, her ailment is not something we openly talk about is it?  It’s private.  It’s personal.  It’s embarrassing. Jewish law required her to be removed from the community.  She was labeled “impure”.  Even touching her made that person impure too.  Then, think of how physically weak she must have been – she had been hemorrhaging for twelve years!  She had to be anemic.  Think how easily she could have given up.  She had every reason to stay isolated.  To suffer quietly.  Over twelve years, even physicians could not help her.  But that was not the end of her story. She did not stay away.  She heard. She believed. She went.  Think of the courage that took! 

This woman reached out – literally.  She had heard and she believed.  “Even if I touch the hem of His robe, I will be healed.”  So she stepped out. She was bold, people!  She became part of the crowd surrounding Jesus and she slowly got closer and closer, until finally she was close enough.  She bent over and brushed her hand against the hem of Jesus’ cloak.  Barely touching it.

Notice that this woman is healed completely by her own initiative.  She heard reports about Jesus and tells herself that if she can only touch his garment, she will be healed. Her action was doubly audacious – a violation of social codes for proper female behavior and a violation of religious law. Her unclean condition, her touch would also transfer her impurity to Jesus. Jesus takes no active part whatsoever in her healing, confirming the truth of His statement, “your faith has made you well.”  The moment she touches the hem of His cloak – the very moment, her bleeding stops and she feels in her body that she is whole.[1]  Imagine how that must have felt!

Only after the woman’s assertive action of touching His robe and being healed does Jesus become an active part of this story.  Jesus senses that something in His body has changed.  He sensed some power leaving His body.  He asks, “Who touched me?”  This seems like a futile question in the midst of a crowd of people pressing against Him.  But this question indicates that the woman’s touch was one of faith – a distinction from the jostling of the crowd. [2]

Have you ever been shamed because of something about yourself?  Perhaps a physical feature; perhaps a past mistake you made. Maybe you’ve been shamed and isolated because of a physical or mental disability.  Perhaps you’ve been made to feel shame because of a mental health challenge that you have that others don’t understand.  Maybe you have been diagnosed with a physical condition or illness that somehow feels socially unacceptable.  Something that makes you feel less-than.  Isolated.  Alone.  Afraid people will think less of you. An embarrassment. 

I cannot imagine myself in this woman’s position.  I hate to impose on others.  I never want to be a bother.  I don’t want to feel like I’m in the way or asking something of someone that they’d rather not give.  My hunch is that women have been particularly conditioned to avoid imposing on others.[3]

I think it’s not only that we don’t want to impose, but that we have a very broad understanding of what might be an imposition.  We expect people to be upset when we ask something of them; we expect them to be irritated, resentful, even angry.  And, sometimes they might be.  And you know, that’s okay.  But what if we are not imposing as much as we think.  What if there is fine line between imposition and interaction?  What if people like to be asked, to be valued, to serve?

I think you know that I retired from pastoring Fairfield Community Church because I got quite ill.  I was in the hospital for a couple of weeks and went home on oxygen and using a walker because I was so weak.  I was not able to be at church – to serve at all.  Because of things in my past, it is VERY difficult for me to not only ask for help, but, to accept help.  Plus, as the pastor, it was my role to care for my congregation.  Not for my congregation to care for me.  I was the pastor.

For months, people brought me meals.  For months, someone did my laundry – including my underwear!  Someone changed my sheets.  There was a person who drove me to doctor appointments.    In fact, when I finally resigned, the congregation even came and packed my house and moved me – and no, it wasn’t because they wanted to get rid of me! 

I cannot begin to explain how hard that was for me.  To me, the roles were backwards.  I was supposed to be the caregiver.  I felt like a burden.  Like a responsibility they felt on top of their own lives.  I felt like I was weak.  I even wondered if people thought I was lazy.  But I needed the help.  I could not do those things myself.

At my retirement, the congregation gave me a journal that they had written in.  I wept as I read it later that day.  So many of the entries spoke of the gift it was for them to be able to care for me.  They thanked me for “letting” them bless me.  How good they felt feeding me and meeting my needs.  How good it was to reciprocate my care for them. I was very humbled.  And it was a reminder that maybe asking for help isn’t an imposition after all.  Maybe it’s a blessing for those who are able to step up and help.

Jesus certainly did not condemn that woman for being an imposition.  If He had been concerned about the delay she caused, he could have just kept walking.  The woman had touched His cloak and been healed.  He could have felt her touch, been irritated, and kept going to a “more important” task; to healing the daughter of Jairus, a leader of the synagogue.  Someone more important than just an impure woman.  But Jesus does not keep walking.  He stops and asks who had touched him.  He gives the woman more time and energy than she asked of him;  more than she thought she needed[4].

The narrator of this passage says that the woman tells Jesus “the whole truth”.  We often think this is an imposition too, don’t we?  To share the fullness of our stories, to share the sad realities of our lives.  I don’t know exactly what she tells Jesus.  It’s possible that “the whole truth” takes a while to tell – yet another imposition.  But Jesus listens.  He’s not annoyed.  He isn’t impatient.  He calls her daughter and sends her away healed and in peace.[5]  This woman’s twelve years  of illness constituted a social death in which she was barred from community and family. Her courage; her boldness resulted in complete healing and redemption. 

The boldness of this woman – this woman who suffered a shaming illness  that made her impure for twelve years is a reminder to us that we must also be bold!  We must be strong just like this woman when we are faced with hardship, with adversity, with something you perceive as embarrassing, or something someone told us we should be ashamed. We too must have the courage to reach out for help.  We can learn from both the woman’s willingness to impose herself on Jesus and from Jesus’ gracious response to her reaching out.  Indeed, human action is not an imposition.  It is what we are here for.  We are called to serve one another in love.

Thanks be to God!   Amen.

 

 



[1] Newsom and Ringe, Women’s Bible Commentary (Expanded Edition) with Apocrypha,  1998.  Westminster John Knox Press.  Louisville, KY.  P. 355
[2] Ibid.
[3] Harader. Prone to Wander.  A Lenten Journey with Women in the Wilderness. 2025.  Herald Press.  Harrisonburg, VA.  P.136.
[4] Harader. Prone to Wander.  A Lenten Journey with Women in the Wilderness. 2025.  Herald Press.  Harrisonburg, VA.  P.136.
[5] Harader. Prone to Wander.  A Lenten Journey with Women in the Wilderness. 2025.  Herald Press.  Harrisonburg, VA.  P.136.