How Long, Oh LORD?: Statement of Faith

Today, we come to our final Sunday in our four-week study of the book of Habakkuk.

It ends with a beautiful expression of faith and piety.

Now, let me remind you of where we've been so far.

The book of Habakkuk was composed probably during the reign of King Jehoiakim,

who reigned in Judah, 609 to 598 BC.

Habakkuk complains to God in the beginning of the book how evil was so rampant in Judah

and that God was silent about it.

So God responds.

He says he's going to use the Babylonian nation to execute justice on God's behalf, punishing wicked Judah.

Habakkuk says, whoa.

That's a paraphrase.

He says, whoa.

Wait a minute.

Babylon is even worse than Judah.

They're proud.

They're violent.

You who are of purer eyes than to see evil and cannot look at wrong,

you're going to use them to bring about your justice?

That makes no sense.

God says, yes.

Yes, I will.

But be assured, the Babylonians won't escape my judgment either.

So we arrive in chapter 3.

Here Habakkuk ponders a theophany.

A theophany is an appearance of a God.

God is revealed in all his might and power and glory.

And Habakkuk is left trembling and utters this amazing statement of faith and devotion,

which I'll again read in full.

As I read, put yourself in Habakkuk's shoes and keep in mind life in the ancient world and the degree of devastation and desolation that Habakkuk is invoking.

Though the thick tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines,

the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food,

the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls yet,

I will rejoice in the Lord.

I will take joy in the God of my salvation.

God the Lord is my strength.

He makes my feet like the deer's.

He makes me tread on my high places.

We're left with the thought,

man, isn't Habakkuk a really good guy?

A great man of faith.

That he would envision utter destruction, exile, and slavery.

The decimation of his people, his nation, and culture by an evil invading power and still be committed to his God.

However, this isn't the last line of the book.

It didn't appear as we went through it together.

The last line is easy to overlook, but it alters our understanding of those verses.

The last line says,

It's a musical notation.

We've heard a couple of other notations in this chapter.

Verse 1 says,

A prayer of Habakkuk, the prophet,

according to Shigyanoth.

We don't know exactly what Shigyanoth means,

but it's probably a musical term.

And then three other times,

in this third chapter of Habakkuk,

you'll find the word Selah.

You can also find that word in the Psalms.

It's also a musical notation.

We don't know exactly what it means,

but it probably means pause,

like at the end of a musical refrain.

All of this means

that this prayer isn't just Habakkuk's prayer.

This prayer is meant to be sung by God's people.

This prayer is meant to be your prayer.

So we're not meant to say,

Oh, isn't Habakkuk a great, faithful, pious man?

We're supposed to say,

That's me in the text.

I'm supposed to say that.

I'm supposed to declare a profound faith in God,

despite the worst possible things that could happen to me.

What would those things be?

It might be,

If I were to lose my job,

I would still rejoice in God.

Though my friends turn their backs on me,

yet I will rejoice in the Lord.

Though injustice would flourish in this country,

though my loved ones should suffer

as a result of that injustice.

Though the present world order

should completely and utterly collapse

and lead to unimaginable suffering and despair,

I will take joy in the God of my salvation.

If I were to say this personally,

the worst thing that could happen to me,

I think,

would be for me to lose a son.

I have four sons.

And if I were to say,

were I to lose a son,

yet I will still rejoice in the Lord.

Well, I wouldn't want to say that.

I don't want to say that.

But this book calls me to say it.

No matter what,

I will follow God.

Okay, we're still only in this introduction of the sermon.

But I would like to wait

about 30 more seconds before we go on

for you to think of

what would be like the worst possible thing

to happen to you.

Maybe write it down

with a pen

or on your phone

or just close your eyes

and think,

what could you fill in the blank there?

If this were to happen to me,

yet I will still rejoice in the Lord.

The question this book poses

is how do we get to the point

where Habakkuk was?

Where we can really say that and mean it.

What could root us

and ground us in God

so that we can have this kind of faith?

I believe Habakkuk gives us two answers.

We need to look at the whole book, I think, for this.

It gives us two answers.

A conversation with God

and a glorious vision of God

can root us and ground us.

A conversation and a glorious vision.

Let's pray.

Father, I realize that many of us

didn't have to think very long

for many of us are actually

going through things right now

that seem like the very worst of all

possible things that could happen to us.

We've thought about our marriage collapsing,

our child being very ill.

We've thought about our parents

having suffered through cancer

and passing away.

For many of us,

we're in a really good stage

experiencing lots of shalom.

But for all of us,

we need to hear

what you have to say to us

so that we could be filled

with a joyful, confident, steadfast faith.

We would acknowledge that

to be a gift from you.

And we ask for that gift,

please, as your children.

In Jesus' name, amen.

Okay, by the time we get to

chapter 3, verse 17,

Habakkuk has already had

a substantial dialogue with God.

And what we should find

to be instructive about that dialogue

is that it even takes place.

In other words,

we can learn from Habakkuk's methodology.

For Habakkuk to reach the point

where he can rest in God,

for him to find strength

and joy in God,

he first needs to know God intimately.

And this means being completely himself

in the presence of God.

In other words,

when you start the book,

you don't get the sense

that Habakkuk has followed

a particular formula

when he addresses God.

He hasn't composed and edited

a prayer ahead of time

with which to address God.

Dear Heavenly Father,

thank you for this day.

You're so great.

There's some bad things

happening in Judah.

And I'd now like to bring those

before your presence

and your holy throne.

He doesn't do that, okay?

It's as if we're like dropped

into the middle

of this long ongoing rant.

Oh Lord,

how long shall I cry for help?

Why are you idle?

If we want the faith of Habakkuk,

we need to first adopt his posture.

He's always in prayer.

And he feels the freedom

to address God

at any time about anything.

It's difficult though,

especially when we have doubts

or anger or confusion.

If you're anything like me,

those feelings of doubts,

fear, confusion, anger,

are often linked with shame.

Oh, I'm not supposed

to feel those things.

So let me clean all that stuff up

before I address God

in prayer tomorrow

for my daily devotional.

Listen, prayer is not the place

for processed feelings.

Let me take my anger

and frustration,

pasteurize them

at some sticky, sweet,

high fructose corn syrup,

some red food coloring number five,

some slick packaging

and present them to God.

Prayer isn't the place

for processed feelings.

Prayer is the place

where you process your feelings.

And you get that from Habakkuk.

You get Habakkuk raw

and uncensored.

And you don't get processed feelings

in many other places

of scripture either,

especially the Psalms,

especially the Psalms of lament.

Psalm 44 is a favorite of mine

in this regard.

The psalmist writes,

you have made us

like sheep for slaughter.

Wake up.

Why are you sleeping?

Rouse yourself.

Doesn't feel appropriate.

Those are things

I address my children with

in the morning.

If you are God's child,

then you have been united to Christ,

which means you have been brought

fully human

with all of your humanishness

into the life of the Trinity.

He welcomes,

he expects your confusion,

your doubts,

your fears,

your anger.

I was talking to a friend last week

and he was looking for some advice.

He faces a lot of injustice

in his vocation

and he was looking for things to read

to make sense of it all.

He was looking for,

he was looking for a method,

which in the West,

we're very big on.

Just give me these steps

so I can solve this problem.

And I asked him very simply,

I mean,

have you asked God

what he thinks of this?

Have you asked God

why he lets these things happen?

And immediately,

an emotional struggle

like surfaced

right into his face.

That emotional struggle

is what God wants from us.

That moment

when we're most ourselves.

What would happen

if we prayed this way consistently?

What if these weren't just

our private prayers,

but the way we prayed publicly?

What if this is the way

this church was known

for praying?

Boston University professor

Claire Wolf-Type

points us to the South African church

in her delightful book

called Lord Have Mercy,

praying for justice

with conviction and humility.

In one chapter,

she meditates on the Psalms of Lament,

like Psalm 44,

which I quoted earlier.

And she points us to funerals

in apartheid era South Africa

as examples of a people

praying through injustice.

She notes one such funeral

for four men in June of 1985.

These men had left

the small town of Craddock

to go to a political meeting

and they never made it back.

They'd been kidnapped,

taken to a deserted area,

and murdered.

Their burned, mutilated bodies

were unceremoniously

left alongside a road.

And though the government

denied it at the time,

though they denied responsibility

for their deaths,

it was later proved

that seven police officers,

reportedly acting on orders

from the apartheid regime,

had committed these crimes.

They became known

as the Craddock Four.

The funeral was attended

by tens of thousands

of South Africans

in a soccer stadium

in Craddock.

And one American observer

described the clothes

of the funeral.

The pallbearers lifted

the four coffins

to their shoulders

and a procession of clergy

led the way

from the dusty stadium

down to the village cemetery.

On either side

of the solemn procession,

people stood eight

and ten deep

and every one of them,

every single person,

had their fists raised.

no one moved.

The only sound in the crowd

was the quiet singing

of the black national anthem.

That song calls on God

to bless the people of Africa

and hear their prayers.

Standing at the funeral,

watching the coffins

of the men from Craddock

pass by,

the people raised their fists

and sang in the African

Shosa language,

Lord, bless Africa.

May her spirit rise high up.

Hear thou our prayers.

Lord, bless us.

Descend, O Spirit.

Descend, Holy Spirit.

Lord, bless us.

Your family.

The words ran out

amid the rows of mourners

standing with their clenched fists

raised in the air.

Under a part high,

funerals became not only

healing rituals of prayer,

and consolation,

but also public spaces

for expression of outrage,

indignation.

One contemporary observer recalls,

funerals were the places

where community anger

could be most blistering,

and it was often

the public prayers

of church persons,

some leaders,

some local pastors,

that held the line,

affirming that anger,

embracing the pain,

holding it up to God

and reminding everyone

that God is not mocked.

You can hear the spirit

of Habakkuk

in these apartheid-era funerals.

And Claire Wolf-Tyke

sees a continuity.

This is why I asked,

what would it be like

if we prayed like this publicly?

She sees a continuity

between these funerals,

which framed protests

in prayer,

with the Truth and Reconciliation Commission.

That was the process

by which crimes

and atrocities were confessed

and truth came out

and amnesty at times granted.

Desmond Tutu,

Anglican priest

and then eventually

the archbishop,

presided over both.

He presided over many funerals,

including that of the Craddock Four,

and he was chosen to lead

the Truth and Reconciliation Commission.

And though he was at times

sharply rebuked,

he would also frame

the Truth and Reconciliation proceedings

in prayer.

As Jesus taught us to pray,

the posture of prayer

opens us up

to the possibilities

of forgiveness

and reconciliation.

So when you're wondering,

what should you do?

Or how should you react

when we see injustice around us?

When yet another gunman

unleashes death

on a crowd of people?

When yet again

white supremacists

gather in Charlottesville

in another display of hate?

When you wonder

how it is

that the killer

of Philander Castile

walks free?

When our government

seems broken

beyond repair?

Cry out privately

and publicly,

how long,

oh Lord?

How long?

rouse yourself.

Do these things

with your core group

or come to church early

when we announce

these things.

When there's a special

time of prayer,

make prayer

the space

in which you express

your doubt

and your anger

and your frustration.

Now if you're left

wondering,

one last note about this,

if you're left wondering

how it is,

how it could be

respectful

or honoring to God

to address him

this way.

Consider how prayers

of lament

and complaint

honor God.

First,

they acknowledge

God is able

to fix things.

They acknowledge

his power and rule

and conversely,

they're a renouncement

of our idols,

our idols of politics

or wealth,

those things

we put too much stock in

to fix the things,

the problems

of the world.

These prayers

acknowledge God's

character as being

good and just.

I think of C.S. Lewis'

quote.

It was this

thing of

injustice

that eventually

was one of the things

that brought him

to faith in Christ.

He wrote,

my argument

against God

was that the universe

seemed so cruel

and unjust,

but how had I got

this idea

of just

and unjust?

A man does not

call a lion

crooked,

unless he has

some idea

of a straight line.

So you see

in our complaints,

we're acknowledging

God's character.

These prayers

tell the story

of creation,

that things

now aren't

the way they

were meant to be,

as created

a good.

These prayers

deepen our union

with Christ.

Jesus himself

prayed

this way.

We get that sense

when it says

Jesus wept,

right?

The death

of his friend

Lazarus.

That word

wept

is more like

snorting.

It's an indignation.

Angry.

This is not

the way things

were meant to be.

And they join us

to God's mission

to renew

the world.

All right.

So we see

that before

Habakkuk

expresses his

faith

in the God

of Israel,

he has a

conversation

with him,

which means

deep intimacy

with him.

And second,

this leads him

to a glorious

vision of God.

In this vision,

Habakkuk

beholds God's

character

and his deeds.

He sees

God's glory

described

in verse 4,

a splendor

covering the heavens

and as a

blinding brightness

described in

verse 8.

His power

is described

in relationship

to creation.

The rivers

and the sea

served him

as agents

of his wrath.

We see

God's holiness

on display

and his jealousy

demanding that

all worship

belongs to him.

In verse 6,

we read that

the eternal

mountains were

scattered.

These are

those ancient

hills

which were

the domain

of the bales

and the ashter.

Those were

the Canaanite

gods and

goddesses

who were

widely worshipped

for the prosperity

and fertility

they were

reputed to bring.

They were

household gods

that had shrines

on hilltops

near every village

and on these hills

God pours out

his judgment.

The everlasting

hills sank low.

His were

the everlasting

wings.

God's wrath

was married

to his love.

It was on

behalf of his

people that he

displayed his fury.

you went

out for the

salvation of

your people

for the

salvation of

your anointed.

Habakkuk is

witnessing God's

glory and he's

recounting God's

deeds on behalf

of his people.

He's recalling

the history of

salvation as

revealed in

scripture,

particularly the

exodus of

Israel out of

bondage and

slavery in

Egypt.

Verse 2,

Habakkuk

writes,

O Lord,

I have heard

the report

of you and

your work,

O Lord,

do I fear.

In verse 5,

we read that

before him

went pestilence

and plague

followed at

his heels,

recalling the

plagues with

which he

afflicted Egypt

just before

Israel escapes

Egypt.

In verse 3,

Habakkuk

witnesses God

coming from

Timon and

Mount Paran.

Now, I

didn't know

what those

things were

before I

read this.

I looked

them up.

Timon is

in southern

Palestine,

and the

Paran

mountains lie

further south

on the

eastern edge

of the

Sinai

Peninsula.

God's

formation

of his

people

began in

this region.

It's the

place in

which Israel

found refuge

from Egypt

after deliverance

from the

Egyptian army

at the sea.

It is the

place of

Mount Sinai

where God's

covenant with

Israel was

confirmed,

where the

community of

Israel was

established under

God's

instructions.

It is the

place where God

began to act

in mighty

ways to

lead,

protect,

judge,

and shape

his people.

Just as God

has acted

before on

behalf of

his people,

Habakkuk

expects God

to do it

again.

In verse

two,

he writes,

in the midst

of the years,

revive your

work.

In the midst

of the years,

make it known.

In wrath,

remember mercy.

This vision

of God's

glory and

his character

and the

story of

redemption

that he's

telling through

history also

looks forward.

The hope of

the righteous

is strengthened

by the

confidence that

God is

bringing the

world's

affairs to

a decisive

conclusion,

a conclusion

in which

God's

just rule

will be

unconditionally

established.

We know

this conclusion

to be God's

final and

decisive act

on behalf

of his

people.

What we're

saying is

Habakkuk is

looking forward

to Jesus.

Jesus'

death and

resurrection

gives God

the final

victory over

all his

enemies.

Death,

sin,

and all

the powers

that

oppose

his

rule.

Colossians

2 tells

us that

on the

cross,

Christ

disarmed

the rulers

and authorities

and put

them to

open shame

by triumphing

over them

on the

cross.

In the

5th century,

Theodorate of

Cyrus observed

how Habakkuk

3 points

forward to

Jesus'

triumph on

the cross.

Theodorate

wrote,

In all

of what

Habakkuk

said,

he conveyed

to us

the ineffable

power of

God.

Action

follows his

will,

and by

merely wishing

it,

he moves

the earth,

undos

human nature,

splits open

the mountains

and melts

the hills

like wax.

In fact,

he has not

ceased doing

such things

for people's

benefit.

Now,

in what is

said,

he implies

also the

cross.

which is

the source

of salvation

for all

people.

On the

cross,

Christ the

Lord took

his position,

shook the

earth,

moved and

split open

the mountains,

struck with

fear the

order of

demons,

and destroyed

their shrines

on mountains

and hills.

Habakkuk

had a

glorious

vision of

God,

which fed

and empowered

his faith.

We have

a more

glorious

and complete

vision of

God.

we have

Jesus

himself.

So,

brothers and

sisters,

we can have

a faith

like Habakkuk

when we

realize

that God

has subjected

himself to

the kind

of loss

Habakkuk

describes,

yet on an

infinite scale.

He's pledged

to us his

loyalty to us

at the cost

of his own

son.

son.

It was

he that

lost his

son.

For us

was his

own son

pierced.

For us

was his

son

crushed,

laid bare

from thigh

to neck.

Through the

death of

God's son

at the

hands of

unjust

men,

we are

brought into

relationship

with the

father.

And in

that relationship,

we are now

free to

groan to

him in our

suffering,

to cry

out in

our

indignation,

and to

wait confidently

for the

day when

God in

perfect

justice will

unite all

things to

him,

things in

heaven and

earth.

Can we

honestly make

a statement?

A statement

of faith like

Habakkuk's.

Maybe.

Maybe.

But it

begins with

trusting in

God's

statement of

faithfulness to

us.

Right?

God's

statement of

faithfulness to

us.

We see that

in Jesus.

And when we

see that,

we can begin

to confidently

answer the

following

question like

the Heidelberg

Catechism

does.

You could

have asked

Habakkuk at

the end of

chapter 3,

what is your

only comfort in

life and in

death?

And then he

would have

recited verses

17 through

19.

But now with

the cross,

this is how we

can answer.

What is my

only comfort in

life and in

death?

That I am

not my own.

But I

belong body

and soul

and life

and death

to my

faithful Savior,

Jesus Christ.

He is fully

paid for all

my sins with

his precious

blood and

has set me

free from the

tyranny of the

devil.

He also

watches over

me in such

a way that

not a hair

can fall

from my

head without

the will of

my Father in

heaven.

In fact,

all things

must work

together for

my salvation

because I

belong to

him,

Christ,

by his

Holy Spirit.

He assures

me of

eternal life

and makes

me wholeheartedly

willing and

ready from now

on to live

for him.

In the name

of the Father

and of the Son

and of the Holy

Spirit.

Amen.