Dan Olinger

"If the Bible is true, then none of our fears are legitimate, none of our frustrations are permanent, and none of our opposition is significant."

Dan Olinger

 

Retired Bible Professor,

Bob Jones University

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On Good Demands, Part 4: Walk with God

August 17, 2026 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Do Justly | Part 3: Love Mercy

Finally, Paul says, Walk humbly with God. There are actually two ways we think of walking. One is with the emphasis on where you’re going, and the other is with the emphasis on whom you’re with. The destination, or the journey. Let me illustrate.

You get into a crowded elevator. What happens the instant the door closes? Everybody turns around and faces the doors. And they probably stand with their hands folded in front of them, and they stare at something. What do they stare at? They stare at that little thing over the door that tells you what floor you’re on. They watch the numbers go up or down, and you would think that there was never anything so interesting in all the world to all those people on the elevator. They’re staring there: four … three … two …. What is so interesting about that? Why are they so focused on something so thoroughly predictable?

They’re staring because they don’t want to interact with anybody else on the elevator. They all feel very uncomfortable. Why? Because a trip on an elevator is not about fellowship along the way. It’s about getting from here to there. I want to get from the sixth floor to the first floor. I don’t care who else is on the elevator, and I’m not going to talk to him. There’s something about elevators that makes us all snobs.

Everybody’s that way in an elevator. As a matter of fact, if you do talk to somebody in an elevator, they start wondering. I saw on the internet one time a list of interesting things to do in an elevator. One of them was get on with a cooler, and on the side of it a little sign that says “human head,” and then just stand there. Or turn to the person right next to you and say, “I washed my socks yesterday!” And they wonder, what’s wrong with this guy? Why? Because a trip on an elevator is all about the destination. It’s not about who you’re with along the way.

But there’s another kind of trip. There’s another kind of walking.

When my wife and I were dating, sometimes we would go for walks. I would say to my then-girlfriend, “Do you want to go for a walk?” And she never said to me, “Where are we going?” Because when you’re going for a walk with someone you love, you don’t care where you’re going. It’s not about going anywhere; you’re going to end up right back where you started, except more in love than ever before. Going for a walk is about spending time with the person.

The night we got engaged, I took her out to a fancy restaurant and a nice couple next to us had a little baby and was kind enough to let us hear the baby cry all through the meal. Such a cute baby. After the meal I had the ring in my pocket, and I said, “You want to go for a walk?”

And she said, “You know, honest to goodness, I’m really tired. And I have kind of a headache. And I think I’ll just turn in early tonight.” She doesn’t understand what’s happening. And I said, “We’re going for a walk!” Got the ring in my pocket. And so we went for a walk. And later, she was glad that we went for a walk. And it’s become kind of a little story we tell about how she almost didn’t get married because she would rather take a nap.

But, you know, going for a walk is not about what floor you’re headed for. Going for a walk is about the person you’re with.

Now, every morning the God of heaven comes to you and he says, “Do you want to go for a walk?”

And almost without fail, we say to him, “Well, this isn’t really a good time. I got so much to do. I got to be in class at 7:30. And then there’s other things I have to do,” and it’s so busy, and you get to the end of the day, and you haven’t spent time in his Word, and you haven’t prayed. Oh, who has time to pray? And at the end of the day, God goes home alone.

And the next morning, he comes to us again, and he says, “You want to go for a walk?” And maybe you step back, and ask, “Where are you taking me?! Is this gonna hurt?”

And what does it do to his heart? What does it say about our priorities when we say, “Maybe another time”?

Do justly. Love mercy. Walk with God.

It’s not legalism to be really serious about doing these things. And deciding not to do these things deprives us of innumerable blessings.

These days a lot of people are angry, and afraid, and depressed.

Might this have something to do with that? Maybe?

Photo by Biegun Wschodni on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible Tagged With: Micah, Old Testament

On Good Demands, Part 3: Love Mercy

August 13, 2026 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Do Justly

Second, the Lord says, love mercy. The word translated “mercy” here–sometimes it’s translated “lovingkindness”–has three concepts in it.

First, there’s a relationship between these people. They’re not strangers; they have a relationship of some kind. One is having mercy toward the other. He’s showing lovingkindness. The Bible speaks of God’s lovingkindness toward Israel, of David’s lovingkindness toward Jonathan. There’s a relationship.

Secondly, there is consistency in the relationship. It’s not up and down. You’re not friends today and enemies tomorrow. You have a lovingkindness kind of relationship. It’s steady. This person is faithful in the relationship.

And third, there’s action taken on behalf of the relationship. The Bible talks a lot about doing mercy, showing mercy, making mercy.

Now, what do we call it when somebody has a relationship, and he is consistent to that relationship, and he does whatever it takes to keep that relationship going? What’s the word we use for that?

Loyalty.

Loyalty to a relationship. That’s what this kind of mercy is. God says, “I want you to love loyalty. I want you to be faithful in your relationships, your commitments, your relationship to me and your relationship to those around you.” We expect that from people close to us.

Back in the ancient Near East, where might made right and human rights were rarely thought of, history is defined by a series of empires that brutally imposed their will on anyone they could conquer. There was Assyria, and then Babylon. Then Cyrus the Great of Persia conquered Babylon during Belshazzar’s drunken feast, introducing a new age.

A few years later the new Persian king Xerxes was especially known for his cruelty. He decided to take down the upstart Greeks and marched through Turkey toward Macedonia. A father there, several of whose sons were in Xerxes’ army, asked if one of the sons could be released to help work the farm. Xerxes had all of his sons executed and cut in half, and marched his army through the divided corpses.

Nice guy.

Crossing from Turkey–Asia–into Macedonia–Europe–Xerxes came up against a band of a few thousand Greek soldiers, led by about 300 mostly Spartans who had positioned themselves blocking a pass at Thermopylae, rendering the Persian army’s advance impossible. The Spartans were notoriously well disciplined, and it appeared that they might repel the Persians.

Ephialtes of Trachis is probably not a name you recognize. He was a Macedonian, a local, who decided to show the Persian leadership a little side path that bypassed the blocked pass, allowing Xerxes to flank the Spartans, attack them from behind, and destroy them.

To put this story in American terms, Ephialtes wasn’t exactly about baseball, motherhood, and apple pie. We instinctively react viscerally against such betrayal.

As it turns out, the Persians were eventually repulsed in a sea battle, and Xerxes headed back to his palace with his tail between his legs. (Side note: we think this is when he went looking for Esther, perhaps to console himself.) Within decades, Greece became the new empire.

There are other famous traitors. Brutus (“Et tu, Brute?!”), Judas Iscariot, Benedict Arnold, Mata Hari, Vidkun Quisling, Tokyo Rose, the Rosenbergs, Aldrich Ames.

We expect better.

This mercy, this loyalty, is a characteristic of God. He is faithful to us. All throughout the Old Testament, God characterizes going after other gods as spiritual adultery. We are unfaithful to our heavenly husband every day of the week. And he is always faithful to us.

Lovingkindness. Loyalty. Commitment.

God asks that of us, and he has a right to.

Photo by Biegun Wschodni on Unsplash

Part 4: Walk with God

Filed Under: Bible Tagged With: Micah, Old Testament

On Good Demands, Part 2: Do Justly

August 10, 2026 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction

The first thing that God says he desires of his people is to do justly, to do justice. That’s the Hebrew word mishpat. This is the decision of a judge. What does a judge do? In the biblical context, the judge would hear the case and then he would ask, “What does the Law say?” Often, in biblical times and in modern, the judge would say, “What would I like the law to be?” And then he would render that decision. That is not “doing justly.”

How is it to be applied here? Most of us are not judges–but we do encounter disputes, and we do see situations where justice is not being done. How can I address this particular dispute in a way that conforms to what the law says? Justice is all about conformity to a standard, measuring up. God says in Proverbs 16.11, “A just weight and balance are the Lord’s; all the weights of the bag are his work.”

A “just” weight.

They used balances in those days. And you put the meat or the grain or whatever over on the left side, and then you took weights–they were usually stones in those days. Now we have those little metal weights that you use in high school physics lab.

You put 100 grams over on the right and the thing you’re weighing doesn’t move up. So you put 50 more and it moves up a little bit, and you put 10 more and it goes too far. And so you take the 10 off and you put 5, and you measure it out. We all know that that system doesn’t work unless the weights are what they claim to be–unless they meet the standard.

And so God says, You need to have a just weight when you say this is a bushel of grain. When you say this is a pound of meat, it better be a pound of meat. It better be accurate. That’s a just weight, conforming to the standard.

God says, I want you to do justly. I want you to obey me. I want you to measure up to the standard. And when I say care for the fatherless and the widow, I want you to do that. I don’t want you to abuse your power. I don’t want you to make a game of the law. I want you to use it to help my people do justice.

“Thou shalt not respect the person of the poor, nor honour the person of the mighty: but in righteousness shalt thou judge thy neighbor” (Lev 19.15).

“Ye shall have one manner of law, as well for the stranger, as for one of your own country: for I am the Lord your God” (Lev 24.22).

“Thou shalt not pervert the judgment of the stranger, nor of the fatherless; nor take a widow’s raiment to pledge” (Dt 24.17).

In the New Testament, James says, Do you want to know what real religion is? It’s to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep yourself unspotted from the world (Jam 1.27). Visit the fatherless and widows. That doesn’t mean drop by, say “Hi, how are you?” Have a cup of tea and then leave.

It means roll up your sleeves and do whatever is necessary to solve that problem. Get involved. Take action on behalf of the fatherless and the widow. Do justice.

That’s probably going to cost you something, at least in time and thought if not money. It’s going to require a commitment. Getting involved.

And that’s the first thing out of God’s mouth in terms of what his heart is for us. Do justice. Do what God says. He condemns governments that use their power to abuse their people (Is 1.23; 10.2; Jer 7.6; 22.3; Ezk 22.7; Zec 7.10; Mal 3.5).

You find yourself in a position of power. You may not think so, but even children are often older siblings. Most adults are parents. You might be a manager, or the owner of a small business. In one way or another, you’re likely in a position of power.

Injustice, by definition, is using that position of power to take advantage of people who don’t have it, who are weak. And God says, do justice.

How seriously should we take this? Well, when Abraham is conversing with God about the fate of Sodom, he says, “Shall not the judge of all the earth do mishpat?” (Gen 18.25).

And shall we not as well?

In his farewell song to Israel, Moses sings, “He is the Rock, his work is perfect: For all his ways are mishpat: A God of truth and without iniquity, Just and right is he” (Dt 32.4).

First thing, do justly.

Photo by Biegun Wschodni on Unsplash

Part 3: Love Mercy | Part 4: Walk with God

Filed Under: Bible Tagged With: Micah, Old Testament

On Good Demands, Part 1: Introduction

August 6, 2026 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

When Jesus was asked what was the greatest commandment in the law, we all know that he went to Deuteronomy 6.4-5. Perhaps you’ve heard why he was asked about that: among the rabbis there was a long discussion about what was the greatest commandment in the law. You can read in the literature of the time that Micah 6.8 is one of the verses that had been nominated for that standing.

He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; And what doth the LORD require of thee, But to do justly, and to love mercy, And to walk humbly with thy God?

Christ directed us to the Deuteronomy passage, but this statement in Micah has always been a favorite of the rabbis–and it is, after all, the word of God. I’d like to spend a few posts mining the wealth that is here.

A key to understanding this verse is understanding its larger context in Micah.

Micah writes to the nation of Israel, both the northern and the southern kingdoms. In the last days of the northern kingdom, in the 700s BC, it went into captivity into Assyria; and about 150 years later, the southern kingdom went into captivity as well. Micah is writing during the last days of the northern kingdom before Assyria moves in. And he’s writing to both halves of the nation.

In the early part of the book, he condemns the northern kingdom of Israel for its sin: in chapter 1, for idolatry; Israel had an ongoing problem with idolatry, which God calls spiritual adultery, seeking other gods. In chapter 2, he condemns them for their violence, particularly by the leadership of the country; and in chapter 3, for corruption in government.

On the basis of this, he says that the northern kingdom is going to be punished by this nation of Assyria. But he says that Assyria shouldn’t get a swelled head, because it’s an instrument of God in this case. He’s going to deal with Assyria as well. In chapter 4 he talks about the southern kingdom, Judah, and the fact that it will have a future. But first it’s to be judged by a nation called Babylon (Mic 4.10).

This is a remarkable evidence of inspiration. At this time Babylon was a has-been. Once regionally dominant, it had just been conquered by Assyria and reduced to having no political influence. And Micah says, one day Babylon is going to bring God’s judgment on the southern kingdom of Judah.

In chapter 5 he describes the coming Babylonian king. But for the meantime, in chapter 6, he talks about the judgment that’s coming, even on the southern kingdom. He recalls Balaam’s prophecy of judgment from centuries before (Mic 6.5).

Remember the sins of your fathers, he says, and don’t continue in those sins. Don’t reject God. Don’t turn away from his plan for you.

An indication of how godless this nation was appears in Micah 6.6-7. They respond to God’s gentle plea with what is probably the most blasphemous couple of verses in all of the scripture:

Wherewith shall I come before the Lord and bow myself before the high God? Shall I come before him with burnt offerings, with calves of a year old? Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams or 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?

The people of Judah ask the same question that man in rebellion against God has always asked:

What do you want from me?

You want me to kill 10,000 rams? How about if I sacrifice my firstborn son? Will that make you happy?

This is a statement of rebellion and arrogance that is almost without parallel in the scripture.

Normally, when you go to someone who’s a lot bigger than you are, and you talk like that to him, something very bad is going to happen to you.

It is a measure of the goodness and grace and tenderness and love of God that a lightning bolt doesn’t descend from heaven on those rebels and leave them all dying in the dirt. God doesn’t answer them in anger or with violence. He answers them softly, gently.

You don’t have to ask that question, he says. I’ve told you what I want, and it’s nothing like offering your son. (The irony here is marked.)

It’s just three simple things:

  • do justly
  • love mercy
  • walk humbly with me

This is a verse that’s filled with tenderness, with relationship. I think it’s remarkable the tenderness with which God answers this act of blasphemy.

It’s almost as though he realizes that he needs to calm this petulant child down. He lowers his voice, and he speaks softly and gently.

It doesn’t do any good to shout at somebody who’s shouting at you. You let them speak and drain their energy. And then when you speak, you speak quietly and tenderly and measuredly. And you try to restore calmness to that very tense situation.

It’s almost as though that’s what God is doing here.

He says, You don’t have to ask me what I want. You don’t have to attack me by suggesting that I want you to murder your children for me. That’s not the kind of God I am. He says, I’ve shown you what I want.

And he says, They’re good things. Do justly, love mercy, walk humbly with thy God. Three very important principles. And they’re not the caricature that you painted in verses 6 and 7. They’re not nutty; they’re not burdensome. They’re things that will bless you, help you, make your life better. I’m not asking you to hurt yourself.

Next time, we’ll begin to delve into these good expectations.

Photo by Biegun Wschodni on Unsplash

Part 2: Do Justly | Part 3: Love Mercy | Part 4: Walk with God

Filed Under: Bible Tagged With: Micah, Old Testament

“What Do You want from Me, God?” Part 3: Mercy

September 10, 2020 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Justice

He has told you, O man, what is good;
And what does the Lord require of you
But to do justice, to love mercy,
And to walk humbly with your God? (Mic 6.8)

Love mercy.

This is a big word.

You can tell that because the English versions translate it with different English words:

  • Mercy (KJV, NKJV, GW, NLT)
  • Kindness (ASV, NASB95, ESV, NIV, LEB, RSV)
  • Compassion (AMP)
  • Faithfulness (CSB, NET)
  • Love (GNT)
  • “Be compassionate and loyal in your love” (MSG)

In the OT, it’s a significant character trait of God, which the KJV translates multiple ways in its 231 occurrences:

  • Favor
  • Goodliness
  • Goodness
  • Kindness
  • Lovingkindness
  • Marvellous
  • Mercy
  • Pity

In fact, it’s the most common biblical statement about God: “His mercy endures forever.” 

One scholar defined the Hebrew word this way:

“A beneficent action performed, in the context of a deep and enduring commitment between two persons or parties, by one who is able to render assistance to the needy party who in the circumstances is unable to help him—or herself.”

One of my theology professors put it more concisely:

“Steadfast, loving loyalty.”

Several concepts going on here:

  • There’s a relationship between the two parties.
  • This relationship is grounded in love.
  • The person showing “mercy” is fiercely devoted to being loyal to the relationship, no matter what.
  • This loyalty issues in action that benefits the person in need.

Looks like the way The Message renders it, as noted above, is the best of the bunch: “Be compassionate and loyal in your love.”

I suppose that you could say, then, that “mercy” is the opposite of apathy.

  • It’s the opposite of saying, “Sorry, but I have other things to do right now.”
  • It’s the opposite of saying, “It’s your own fault.”
  • It’s the opposite of saying, “I told you so.”

It’s living out James 2:15-17—

15  If a brother or sister is without clothing and in need of daily food, 16 and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, be warmed and be filled,” and yet you do not give them what is necessary for their body, what use is that? 17 Even so faith, if it has no works, is dead, being by itself.

We’re to love mercy.

We’re to look for problems that others are facing, and to commit ourselves to helping them solve those problems, no matter how much time and energy and money it takes, because we love them.

I’m not naturally like that, and I suspect you aren’t either.

I find it helpful to meditate on the ways God has shown this kind of loving commitment to me.

  • He’s given me life, in a world designed to support life profusely and lavishly.
  • He’s brought me under the sound of the gospel, through extraordinary circumstances.
  • He’s poured out spiritual blessings in abundance on his unfaithful son.

Someone has said that the fact that God has forgiven us obligates us to forgive others—for how could anyone have sinned against us more grievously than we have sinned against God?

Indeed.

How could we possibly show “mercy” to someone else more purely and deeply and intensely and completely than God has shown mercy to us?

May we all pay attention—on the prowl, searching, seeking for people who need help—and render help in ways that are sacrificial and truly effective.

And may we love it.

Part 4: A Humble Walk

Photo by Luis Quintero on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Ethics, Theology Tagged With: mercy, Micah, Old Testament

“What Do You want from Me, God?” Part 2: Justice

September 6, 2020 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction

He has told you, O man, what is good;
And what does the Lord require of you
But to do justice, to love mercy,
And to walk humbly with your God? (Mic 6.8)

Do justice.

Justice is one of those things that’s hard to define. I suspect that’s because there are lots of situations where we have trouble coming up with the right response, but we know instinctively when the right thing hasn’t been done.

  • Can we right the deep wrong of the American practice of slavery by doing something today? Well-intentioned people will argue all day about how to do that.
  • But the family that poured their life savings and sweat equity into a small business only to have it burned to the ground by rioters? That’s just not right.

The core of our problem in defining justice is that we are broken people living in a broken world. Human culture is indeed systemically defective, and our evaluations of the resulting problems, as well as our proposed solutions, are broken as well because our moral compasses don’t point north, and our logical processes can’t be trusted as authoritative.

How then are we to do justice?

In the mists of the past some old saint once observed that “what God orders, he pays for.” The words aren’t directly biblical, but the thought surely is. In the broadest sense, an omnipotent God will certainly accomplish all his holy will, or his Son wouldn’t have instructed us to pray, “Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” (Mt 6.10; Lk 11.2). As to the specific issue of justice, Peter assures us that God’s “divine power has granted to us everything pertaining to life and godliness” (2P 1.3)—an astonishing truth indeed. On the individual level, certainly, the believer can expect that God will enlighten and enable him to do whatever God has commanded. Including Justice.

But how?

Peter’s sentence continues: “through the true knowledge of Him who called us by His own glory and excellence.”

The better we know God, the more clearly we’ll understand justice, and the more accurately we’ll be able to apply it.

How do we get to know God?

Through his Word.

We dive into its deep waters, and we spend time there, soaking, swimming, observing, immersed in truth and seeking the pearls that are certainly there. Over time, we begin to think the way God teaches us to think, to love what he loves and to hate what he hates. We begin not only to see with clarity that a given situation “just isn’t right,” but to see how it can best be remedied in ways consistent with God’s.

The longer I live, the more I’m inclined to think that justice is not most effectively imposed from the top down, or the outside in. You can tell people that racial discrimination, for example, is wrong, and you can make laws against it, but people inclined to engage in racial discrimination will find ways to do it out of public view, ways that can’t be effectively prosecuted. And what do you call it when lots of people like that live together?

You call that systemic racism.

Laws can’t fix that. Of course societies should seek to make injustice difficult, and laws are a part of that. But they can’t fix the underlying problem.

This old guy has come to believe that justice—real, lasting justice—has to come from the inside out. It has to come from the heart, from individual people who are determined to want justice and to act within their sphere of influence to do justly and to encourage others to do the same.

In other words, to follow the biblical pattern: regenerated sinners, indwelt by the Spirit of God, illuminated to understand His Word, and imbued with that Word by long hours of study and meditation, begin to think about justice as God thinks, consequently seeing the wrong and seeing the path to making it right.

Doing justly, one person, one home, one block, one neighborhood at a time.

Until the day when “justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream” (Am 5.24).

Part 3: Mercy | Part 4: A Humble Walk

Photo by Luis Quintero on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Ethics, Theology Tagged With: justice, Micah, Old Testament

“What Do You Want from Me, God?” Part 1

September 3, 2020 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

One of the most well-known passages in the Old Testament springs from an argument between God and his people. The prophet Micah writes to the people of Israel—there’s some in there for the Northern Kingdom, but primarily he focuses on Jerusalem—and brings a word of judgment: “the mountains will melt,” he says (Mic 1.4).

And why?

For rebellion—and specifically, for idolatry (Mic 1.5) and for abuse of fellow Israelites through fraud (Mic 2.1-2).

For three chapters the warning continues, alternating between a catalog of Israel’s sins and a catalog of the judgments that are coming.

Then, suddenly, the tone shifts. God’s looks beyond the judgment to the days that will follow. God will establish his kingdom in Jerusalem for a time of peace, prosperity, unity, and true worship (Mic 4.1-8). Even in the face of judgment, God’s people can look forward to his mercy (Mic 4.9-13). He will send a deliverer, born in Bethlehem (Mic 5.2), who “will arise and shepherd his flock” (Mic 5.4). The rest of chapter 5 eagerly anticipates the day of blessing.

But with chapter 6 the tone returns to the earlier chastisement. God has an indictment against Israel (Mic 6.2), and justice must be done.

You would think that God’s people would respond to all this with repentance, either out of fear or out of eagerness for the blessing. On the contrary, though, their response is shocking.*

What do you want from me?! Do you want all my animals, my entire flock, in sacrifice? Would that make you happy? How about if I slaughter my firstborn son for you? Will that be enough?!

What do you want, anyway?!

You can practically see the veins popping out on Israel’s neck.

If you and I were God, there would be a smoking crater where Israel was standing.

But we’re not God—and all the universe is infinitely better for that. God’s response to his insolent children is as shocking as their insolence. In calm, measured tones, he surprisingly de-escalates the confrontation with words of invitation and reconciliation.

You know what I want; I’ve told you before. I don’t want anything unreasonable or destructive or confiscatory.

I want you to do justice. I want you to love mercy. And I want you to walk humbly with me, your God.

In Jesus’ time, the rabbis argued about which of the 635 commandments in the Scripture was the greatest. One of the favorite candidates was this passage. (As we know, Jesus chose another, Deuteronomy 6.4.) It’s easy to understand why some of the rabbis argued for this one. It’s theologically, logically, and rhetorically deep, and brilliant, and pleasant to the soul.

I think it’s worth spending a little time on. I plan to spend the next 3 posts meditating on the 3 things that God kindly and patiently requested from his estranged people.

* Scholars disagree on the tone of Micah 6.6-7. I think the context justifies the tone I’ve ascribed to it here.

Part 2: Justice | Part 3: Mercy | Part 4: A Humble Walk

Photo by Luis Quintero on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Ethics, Theology Tagged With: fellowship, humility, justice, mercy, Micah, Old Testament