Audio of the sermon is here:

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

            You’ve probably heard dozens, if not hundreds, of sermons from the prophet Habakkuk. Bear with me for just one more. Or maybe you’ve never heard a sermon from Habakkuk. Maybe you aren’t even sure that’s actually a book in the Bible! But even if you’ve never heard a sermon from Habakkuk, even if you’ve never heard of Habakkuk, you’ve heard Habakkuk’s complaint: How long, O Lord? How long, O Yahweh, will I cry out to You and You will not answer? How long will I cry, ‘Violence!’ and You will not save? Why do You make me see iniquity, and why do You idly look at wrong? Destruction and violence are before me; strive and contention arise. So the torah, the instruction, is paralyzed and justice never goes forth. The wicked surround the righteous, and even when justice does go forth, it goes for perverted, twisted, crookedly. How long, O Yahweh?

            Here he’s talking about what he sees in Judah, how things are, what the leaders are doing, and the idolatry and evil of the people. How long does it have to be like this? I think we all know the idea of it. How long will things go on like this? How much worse can things get? When will God intervene? All the unbelievers who think they’ve come up with a new question in light of the evil of the world and a good God have obviously never read Habakkuk. The problem of a good God ruling over an evil world is at least 2600 years old, and more. It’s not a new question. It’s not a modern question. It’s as old as sin. The only difference between Habakkuk and the unbeliever is that the unbeliever brings those questions to the believer and says, “Well, what about this? Where’s your so-called God? If your God exists, why does all this happen?” On the other hand, the believer takes the question directly to the source, to the one against whom he has a complaint. How long, O Lord? Where are You? When will You do something about all of this? Are You just going to sit idly by and let it all happen? We know that if God isn’t going to do something about it, then it’s not going to happen. We all think that if there’s no God, then people will just get on with the business of fixing things ourselves. How’s that working out for us? Do we really think that we, who are the problem, are going to be the solution too? Do we think that governments are going to fix it? Do we think that countries are going to fix it? I think we’ve had enough experience to know better.

            So Habakkuk cries out to God. And, unlike most of Job, God answers Habakkuk. Although, I’m not sure it’s the answer Habakkuk wanted. Yahweh says, “Look among the nations and see; wonder and be astounded; I’m going to do something in your days that you would not believe if told. I’m going to raise up the Chaldeans.” The Babylonians! The cure seems to be worse than the disease. The solution seems worse than the problem. You’re going to replace the injustice of Judah with the injustice of Babylon? You’re going to replace the violence of Judah with the violence of Babylon? With pagans and unbelievers? What is Habakkuk supposed to do with that? But God says, do not worry, the promised salvation will come. Write the vision; make it plain on tablets, so he may run who reads it. For still the vision awaits its appointed time; it hastens to the end—it will not lie. If it seems slow, wait for it; it will surely come; it will not delay (2:1-3).

            That’s all Habakkuk gets. He gets a promise about what is coming after the Babylonians, who would, within 20 years, destroy Jerusalem and take the people to Babylon. In the midst of everything he can see, everything he knows, everything that makes him cry out “how long?” to God, all he has is the promise. All he has is the word of God, who says that it will come, no matter how long it takes, or how slow it seems. The people are going to be in exile for 70 years, and the full promise of God’s salvation wouldn’t come for another 600 years. Habakkuk would not see it; he could only believe it. It’s Babylon who judges by what she sees. It’s the soul of Babylon that is puffed up. But the righteous will live by his faith, by the steadfast trust in the unbreakable promise. That’s all he’s got. That’s all Israel had. That’s all you have.

            All of this means that Habakkuk could say these words at the end of his prophecy: I will wait quietly for the day of trouble to come upon people who invade us. I will wait quietly for God to take care of the enemies. Though the fig 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—even if Babylon comes and strips the land bare, of people and animals and food—yet—faith is in that “yet”—yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation. God, the Lord, is my strength (3:16-19).

            The promise remains, even when everything around us looks like the opposite. Maybe it’s the violence and wickedness. Maybe it’s the crime and injustice. Maybe it’s the strife and contention, not only in the world, but in your family or in the church. Or maybe, you just drift away, or get slowly pulled away. Maybe it’s just the complacency or boredom or living in this world under the burdens of our own sin and weakness. Maybe you cry out, “How long, O Lord?” just because of this body of death in which we live in this world. Even so, the promise is all we have. It is Babylon who judges by what she can see, who thinks because she conquers, she’s in control and God is not. It is the unbeliever who looks around and judges things to be good when things are going well for him, and who judges things to be bad when things are going badly for him. That’s what you get when you judge by what you see: up and down, roller-coaster of emotions and life and experience.

            But Habakkuk and Israel and you have something beyond what you can see: you have what you can hear from the mouth of the living God. Like the disciples, you might cry out to the Lord, “Lord, add to us faith!” And He might say what sounds like an absurdity: If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, be uprooted and transplanted into the sea, and it would. But the issue is an amount of faith, it’s the object of faith. The object of your faith is not in what you can see, or whether you can figure out your problems; it’s not faith in general, wishing and thinking it all might turn out ok in the end. It did not for Habakkuk. The people went into exile and he died, waiting for the promise of God. The object of your faith is not how things are going for you. It’s not in your family, or the church, or a mulberry tree.

The object of your faith is and can only be Jesus Christ. He is the one whom God sent forth at just the right time, six hundred years after Habakkuk’s prophecy, born of a woman. God did not sit idly by while the violence and wickedness of the world increased and overwhelmed His creation. What did He do about the violence and evil and sin and death in the world, about all the things that make you cry out, “How long?” He entered into them. He wrapped Himself up in skin and blood and bone. He wrapped Himself in nails and a cross and was forsaken on the cross to the violence and wickedness of this world that He had made. What does a good God do with an evil world? He takes the blame for all that evil and more, and suffers and is crucified and wrapped in a tomb. And that is the Jesus who was the object of Habakkuk’s faith, the keeping of God’s promise. It came, though some people thought it took too long. And so it goes, until His revealing in glory. God is not slow to keep His promise, as some count the time. He is patient with you, not wanting any to perish, but that all should reach repentance (2 Peter 3:9).

Babylon judges by what she can see; the Bride of Christ judges by what her Lord says, and the righteous will live by faith in that Christ. “Though with a scornful wonder, the world sees [the Church] oppressed, by schisms rent asunder and by heresies distressed, yet”—and faith is in that “yet”—“saints their watch are keeping; their cry goes up, ‘How long?’ and soon the night of weeping will be the morn of song” (LSB 644:3).

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. “The peace of God which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”

– Pr. Timothy Winterstein, 10/3/25