Throughout the book of Micah we’ve seen one oracle after another, typically of doom and destruction, but occasionally of hope. In the northern kingdom of Israel, Samaria will be reduced to rubble. But the leaders of Judah have also become corrupt, and Jerusalem will suffer the same fate. Chapters 1 and 2 are nothing but doom, doom, doom — until the very last two verses of chapter 2, when we finally get the word of hope that God as the Shepherd-King will keep his people safe.

Chapter 3 goes back to darkness and destruction, but chapter 4 opens with a compelling vision of the restoration of Jerusalem. The prophecy is less about the rebuilding of the city, as it was with Ezekiel’s vision, but the establishment of Jerusalem as the center of worship for all nations. God’s justice and wise instruction will go out from Jerusalem and there will no longer be any need for war. The first eight verses of chapter 4 are the most sustained vision of hope in the book thus far.

What comes next, doom or hope? In a way that seems to differ from what comes before, the remainder of chapter 4 is neither good news or bad news alone; it’s a mix of both, especially in verses 9 and 10. Here’s how they read in the New International Version:

Why do you now cry aloud—
    have you no king?
Has your ruler perished,
    that pain seizes you like that of a woman in labor?
Writhe in agony, Daughter Zion,
    like a woman in labor,
for now you must leave the city
    to camp in the open field.
You will go to Babylon;
    there you will be rescued.
There the Lord will redeem you
    out of the hand of your enemies.

Verse 9 suggests that the people are right now, as the prophecy is given, terrified of some threat, possibly Assyria and its allies. Micah is not above a bit of prophetic sarcasm here. Why are you crying out in terror? he asks. You have a king, don’t you? He’s not dead, is he? Surely he’s not a vacation… It’s as if Micah sees the whole sorry history of the monarchy in his mind’s eye, the failed political experiment that has led the divided kingdom to the brink of destruction and exile. You wanted a king. You have a king. Don’t you trust your king to keep you safe? He doesn’t say it directly, but his words are a condemnation of the people’s dependence on kings, alliances, and armies, instead of upon God.

Micah doesn’t comfort them, at least not right away. You’re in agony right now, like a woman in labor, he says. Well, guess what? You ought to be, and let me tell you why. It’s worse than you think.

This is the first and only time Micah actually mentions Babylon by name. He has already spoken of the destruction of Jerusalem at the end of chapter 3, but he didn’t name the culprit. Here, he names Babylon but speaks of exile instead of destruction. The people will be forced to leave the city and camp in the field. Remember, the exiles weren’t herded onto buses or planes. They had to walk to Babylon. The distance from Jerusalem to Babylon was over 500 miles — as the crow flies. Depending on the actual path they took, the distance they walked was easily more than twice that. The journey would have taken months, and they would have been forced to sleep in the open along the way.

That’s the bad news. The good news? It is in Babylon that God will rescue and redeem his people. As we’ve seen, that rescue will come through the Persian king Cyrus, who defeats Babylon and is prompted by God to release the captives to return home and rebuild the temple.

Micah’s language, however, implies that this is not what the people want to hear; it’s not the rescue they want. They want to be saved here and now, but Micah insists that they will be saved there, in Babylon, and then.

God has been long-suffering and patient with his people, sending them one prophet after another to compel them to change their ways. Now, destruction and exile are coming. But none of this means that God is done with his people. Micah has yet one more word of hope before the chapter ends.