In the ancient world, it was not uncommon to conceive of the gods as impressed by power and influence. Kings and priests had access to and influence with the gods and the average person’s hope of grace was mediated through the rich and powerful. The God of the Bible stands in stark contrast to this.

Micah ministered “in the days of Jotham, Ahaz, and Hezekiah, kings of Judah” (1:1). While he ministered to some fairly influential people, he was himself from a place of little renown. “Moresheth” (1:1) was a relatively modest, agricultural town in southern Judah. A place of little renown, Moresheth had no major claim to fame. Micah did not boast of the best education or come from Israel’s most influential family. He was a simple man, whom God called to minister for his glory.

Micah’s humble background is evident in his burden for society’s marginalised. One commentator highlights this when he writes, “Micah’s instinctive empathies were with the farmers, shepherds, and smallholders of the agricultural region. He was not lured away by the glittering facade of the new culture—fine houses, advanced fashions, get rich quickly businesses. But he kept a firm grip on the moral realities that make for true national greatness.” Throughout the fifty-plus years of his ministry, he displayed special sensitivity to those who suffered abuse from the social elites.

In this way, Micah foreshadowed the Messiah he preached. Messiah would likewise come from a town of little renown in Judah (5:2). He would walk among and minister to the little guy in Israel. He would shun pomp and power and pursue humility as he obeyed his Father to the bitter end. And he would reach out, and show compassion, to multitudes of ordinary men and women.

We should be thankful that the God of the Bible is a big God of the little guy. This should give us hope as we make our way through life. Unlike the gods of the nations, he is not impressed by power or influence. He cares about the disenfranchised and the downtrodden. He loves the humble and the hurting. He shows compassion to the powerless and the pained.

Leanna Crawford sings about standing “on the edge of falling apart” and yet believing that God’s promises somehow “find my troubled heart.” She sings of choosing to believe that God is good even when life is not.

This is the truth I’m standing on,

even when all my strength is gone:

You are faithful forever

and I know you’ll never let me fall.

Right now, I’m choosing to believe

Someday soon I’ll look back and see

all the pain had a purpose,

your plan was perfect all along.

This is the truth I’m standing on.

Suffering is the great humbler, which points in the direction of our littleness. But, if we stand on the truth, our suffering will also point to God’s bigness. The truth of Scripture reminds us that God takes our pain into consideration. The God who created billions of stars across millions of galaxies sees—and cares about—our pain and suffering.

Faith puts our littleness and God’s bigness into proper perspective. Faith sees the ultimate act of suffering in Jesus on a Roman cross and rejoices that that suffering brings about eternal joy and satisfaction for those who will trust in his death for sin. Faith embraces the glorious truth that, in the incarnation, Christ stepped into our suffering to bring us the hope of eternal peace.

As you take time this morning and, I trust, the next few days to meditate on the message of Micah, do so with deliberate joy that the God of the Bible is the great God of little guys and gals like you and me.