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Connected by scripture or shared themes.
When life tumbles in, what then? That was the title of a sermon preached by Arthur Gossip in Aberdeen in 1927—the first sermon he gave after his wife died suddenly, leaving him a widower and his children without a mother. He asked his congregation: "How would you cope when out of nowhere some terrible circumstance occurs?"
Gossip had lived a comparatively easy life, and he imagined his parishioners thinking, "Well, it's easy for old Gossip to say these things in the calm comfort of his easy life." Then he paused and said, "I don't think anyone will challenge my right to speak today." He went on to describe how, in the context of agonizing tears, he had been immeasurably comforted by the presence, power, and promises of God. His faith was more real to him than it had ever been.
Habakkuk was certainly a prophet who did not have a fair-weather faith. Here was a man of faith experiencing great suffering. The people of Judah were being assaulted by the Babylonians. There was confusion and madness. Habakkuk cried out, "Why, Lord? Why don't you do something?" And when God said He would raise up the Babylonians as judgment, Habakkuk's second complaint was even more anguished: "Why are you doing that? Because these wicked Babylonians are worse than the wickedness in Judah!"
Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the sheepfold and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice.
Don't dismiss this too quickly. The fig tree not budding, no grapes, no olives—these sound manageable. But the fields produce no food. There is nothing in the shops. There are no sheep in the sheepfold, no cattle in the stalls. There is no food. This is the real world.
There's an impression in some Christian circles that if you're a woman or man of faith, you will somehow be protected from suffering. But that's not what the Bible teaches. I remember attending a healing meeting where a preacher essentially said, "If you have faith, God will heal you." There was a young woman in a wheelchair in the front, desperately believing, going like this. She was wheeled out at the end with tears flooding down her face. And I was told later that she was the preacher's daughter. The implication of what he was saying was, "It's your fault. You don't have enough faith." That is not in the Bible.
But there's a danger we have a more subtle form of that thinking. People say, "Don't worry, God will heal" or "God will give you another job." Well, God hasn't promised to heal or give us another job or get us out of difficult circumstances. Sometimes our dreams in this life will not be realized. Maybe you dream of passing those exams, going to that particular college, getting that particular job, meeting that particular person, getting married, having children, a comfortable life, a good reputation, a successful career, a healthy and happy retirement, traveling the world, seeing grandchildren, dying peacefully in your sleep.
Dare I tell you? It might not happen like that. And if it doesn't, it's not because you're not a man or woman of faith. People of great faith sometimes don't get the exam results they long for. They don't get the job they long for, or they get it and lose it. They don't find the person they long for, or they do and find it very hard. They can't have children, or they have kids who turn away from them and their faith. They lose the job, lose their reputation, lose their health, lose their mind. These things happen to people of faith. The Bible is real. And Habakkuk is not saying none of these things can happen. He assumes they might happen.
Notice how the prayer begins: "Lord, I have heard. I've heard." And again in verse 16: "I heard." The trigger for faith is not found in the stomach or heart of the believer stirring up faith and saying, "I will believe." Faith is responsive. God takes the initiative. He speaks and reveals His character, His purposes, His promises. Then by the Holy Spirit, faith hears and believes. It responds.
In chapter one, Habakkuk asked, "Why? Why? Why?" Then he had to wait. Before chapter two, verse two, the Lord replies: "Write down the revelation." God has spoken. And when God speaks, we're told, "The righteous shall live by faith." Those who belong to God hear God's word and trust it. That's what Habakkuk is doing.
I was reminded this week of Bishop James Hannington, an Oxford man who went as a missionary bishop to Uganda in 1885. It was dangerous. The king was suspicious. He was arrested, left alone with high fever and the threat of execution. He turned to his Bible and read Psalm 27—the psalm from which the Oxford university motto comes: "The Lord is my light and my salvation." He wrote in his journal, "Much comforted by Psalm 27." The next day, the king ordered that he be speared to death. But he had been comforted by the Bible. God speaks.
Lord, I have heard of your fame. I stand in awe of your deeds. Lord, repeat them in our day. In our time, make them known. In wrath, remember mercy.
What he's saying is: God, do what you said you did. Do it again. I'm comforted by these promises that you're going to bring justice, judgment, and salvation. Would you do what you said you'd do? And when you act in justice and judgment, don't forget your mercy.
He has confidence to pray like that because he knows what God is like. He's addressing not some vague deity, but the Lord—the name God gave Himself when He revealed Himself to Moses: "I am the Lord. I am who I am. I will be who I will be." This name became associated with God's covenant love.
In the light of what God did in the past—rescuing His people from slavery in Egypt—Habakkuk prays for what God has promised in the future. And if Habakkuk had confidence then, we have much more. God spoke in the past through the prophets, but in these last days, He has spoken to us through His Son. The word became flesh and dwelt among us. It was on the cross that wrath and mercy met. So we can pray, "Lord, would you do it again? Would you come and finish the job of salvation? Jesus, please return."
Life won't always be easy. Look at the circumstances, and our heart sinks. Look within, and we're riddled often by anxiety, doubt, and fear. Look to God and His word, and at last, God willing, peace will come.
Do you notice this whole chapter is set to music? "A prayer of Habakkuk the prophet on Shigonoth." We don't know exactly what that means—it seems to refer to some kind of musical notation, a tune or tempo. Look at the end of the chapter: "For the director of music on my stringed instruments." Here are words, a prayer of Habakkuk, put to music so that future generations can sing it.
Often when we're going through hard times, we just don't know what to say. Wonderfully, the Bible gives us words to say. But why a song and not just truths written in black and white? Music helps us express feelings and sometimes helps us feel feelings we didn't have before. The truths we can read in black and white inhabit the heart more and more. That's what music does. That's what poetry does.
The truths of this chapter could be expressed in one simple sentence: God will come to judge His enemies and save His people. The Bible says that again and again. But here it's expressed with beautiful imagery and music, in the hope that these truths don't just impact the head but, in the midst of all the trauma, horror, confusion, and uncertainty, they hit the heart and we delight in them.
In the first section of chapter three, verses 3 to 7, there's poetic imagery meant for meditation. It's like the entrance of a boxer or a dancer—there's tremendous drama. You're waiting, and then they appear.
His splendor was like the sunrise. Rays flashed from his hand. He stood and shook the earth. He looked and made the nations tremble. The ancient mountains crumbled and the age-old hills collapsed.
We talk about someone being "as old as the hills." The landscape changes slightly, the houses change, but the shapes of the hills and mountains seem eternal. We can look at some of the fixed realities of the world—sometimes very fixed, uncomfortable, difficult realities. Some nations look fixed and difficult. But they disappear in a moment when the Lord appears.
God is presented here as a mighty warrior, with no match for any human power, physical power, or spiritual power. He's a God of mighty, awesome strength. When He rode to deliver His people at the Red Sea:
Did you rage against the sea when you rode your horses and your chariots to victory? The sea just parted.
And now, in the final vision:
Sun and moon stood still in the heavens, at the glint of your flying arrows, at the lightning of your flashing spear.
The nations around worshiped the sun and the moon. But God is saying, "Look at the sun and the moon." When they see God, they pause. If the sun and moon had mouths, their jaws would be gaping. They're saying to one another, "Take a look at that." They stand in awe at the God who made everything, controls everything, and will one day subdue everything. All that is evil, all that seems out of control, is under complete control and in order again.
You came out to deliver your people to save your anointed one, your Christ.
God's Christ and His people are bound together. Of course, the greatest victory of all was on the cross. Jesus looked as if He'd been defeated. Everything looked completely out of control. But God raised Him from the grave. God and His anointed one are seen to rule over all things and all powers forever.
Jesus was the warrior king. He came to earth, and all the things we're powerless against—He just said the word and sickness departed. Dead people rose from the dead. Even in that storm, He said, "Peace, be still," and there was complete calm.
Sometimes just reading truths isn't enough. We know the truths, but they don't sink in. That's why the Bible is such a rich variety. Sometimes we just need to be told the truth in black and white. At other times, a truth we know so well is described in beautiful poetic form. Imagine the images, see them, and sing them so that they might, God willing, sink in and strengthen us in the hard times of the present and prepare us for the hard times still to come.
What's Habakkuk's response to this revelation? It's profound:
I heard and my heart pounded. My lips quivered at the sound. Decay crept into my bones and my legs trembled. Yet I will wait patiently for the day of calamity to come on the nation invading us.
I heard, and I believed your word. So I'm waiting for the time when you'll do what you've said—bring judgment on all evil and destroy all that is messy in the world and put everything right. I'm waiting for that time. And I'm not just waiting through gritted teeth, grinning and bearing it.
Yet I will rejoice in the Lord. I will be joyful in God my savior. The sovereign Lord is my strength.
How's that possible? It's possible because he heard God's word, and by the Spirit, those truths sank in. The truths in his head became a song in his heart. Yes, even in the midst of suffering, he rejoiced.
Can you say, "My savior, my strength"? If you've never come to faith in Jesus, we commend Him to you. We're not asking you just to believe truths out there, but to receive Christ for yourself. For those of us who are Christians, let's remember in the hard times: my Lord, my savior is with me, and He can be my strength.
This is not some super-spiritual spirituality that removes the pain. Many of you remember Pebb Smeen, a lovely missionary who came to Oxford and lived amongst us for many years. Right towards the end of her life, she had a stroke and was stuck at home. I went to visit her, and she was so frustrated. She said, "Getting old is no fun." As she described it, she started crying. Then a little bit later, she said, "But you know, God has been so good to me. He's been with me. He's strengthened me." And then she started crying again.
The first cries were cries of frustration at the pain. The next cries were cries of joy at Jesus being with her. Both were true. They didn't cancel each other out. Don't feel guilty if you feel the tears of grief, sadness, and confusion. But even in the midst of those, we can know the tears of joy because Jesus is our strength. And one day, the One who has come will come again, and all will be well.
When life tumbles in, what then? That was the title of a sermon preached by Arthur Gossip in Aberdeen in 1927—the first sermon he gave after his wife died suddenly, leaving him a widower and his children without a mother. He asked his congregation: "How would you cope when out of nowhere some terrible circumstance occurs?"
Gossip had lived a comparatively easy life, and he imagined his parishioners thinking, "Well, it's easy for old Gossip to say these things in the calm comfort of his easy life." Then he paused and said, "I don't think anyone will challenge my right to speak today." He went on to describe how, in the context of agonizing tears, he had been immeasurably comforted by the presence, power, and promises of God. His faith was more real to him than it had ever been.
Habakkuk was certainly a prophet who did not have a fair-weather faith. Here was a man of faith experiencing great suffering. The people of Judah were being assaulted by the Babylonians. There was confusion and madness. Habakkuk cried out, "Why, Lord? Why don't you do something?" And when God said He would raise up the Babylonians as judgment, Habakkuk's second complaint was even more anguished: "Why are you doing that? Because these wicked Babylonians are worse than the wickedness in Judah!"
Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the sheepfold and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice.
Don't dismiss this too quickly. The fig tree not budding, no grapes, no olives—these sound manageable. But the fields produce no food. There is nothing in the shops. There are no sheep in the sheepfold, no cattle in the stalls. There is no food. This is the real world.
There's an impression in some Christian circles that if you're a woman or man of faith, you will somehow be protected from suffering. But that's not what the Bible teaches. I remember attending a healing meeting where a preacher essentially said, "If you have faith, God will heal you." There was a young woman in a wheelchair in the front, desperately believing, going like this. She was wheeled out at the end with tears flooding down her face. And I was told later that she was the preacher's daughter. The implication of what he was saying was, "It's your fault. You don't have enough faith." That is not in the Bible.
But there's a danger we have a more subtle form of that thinking. People say, "Don't worry, God will heal" or "God will give you another job." Well, God hasn't promised to heal or give us another job or get us out of difficult circumstances. Sometimes our dreams in this life will not be realized. Maybe you dream of passing those exams, going to that particular college, getting that particular job, meeting that particular person, getting married, having children, a comfortable life, a good reputation, a successful career, a healthy and happy retirement, traveling the world, seeing grandchildren, dying peacefully in your sleep.
Dare I tell you? It might not happen like that. And if it doesn't, it's not because you're not a man or woman of faith. People of great faith sometimes don't get the exam results they long for. They don't get the job they long for, or they get it and lose it. They don't find the person they long for, or they do and find it very hard. They can't have children, or they have kids who turn away from them and their faith. They lose the job, lose their reputation, lose their health, lose their mind. These things happen to people of faith. The Bible is real. And Habakkuk is not saying none of these things can happen. He assumes they might happen.
Notice how the prayer begins: "Lord, I have heard. I've heard." And again in verse 16: "I heard." The trigger for faith is not found in the stomach or heart of the believer stirring up faith and saying, "I will believe." Faith is responsive. God takes the initiative. He speaks and reveals His character, His purposes, His promises. Then by the Holy Spirit, faith hears and believes. It responds.
In chapter one, Habakkuk asked, "Why? Why? Why?" Then he had to wait. Before chapter two, verse two, the Lord replies: "Write down the revelation." God has spoken. And when God speaks, we're told, "The righteous shall live by faith." Those who belong to God hear God's word and trust it. That's what Habakkuk is doing.
I was reminded this week of Bishop James Hannington, an Oxford man who went as a missionary bishop to Uganda in 1885. It was dangerous. The king was suspicious. He was arrested, left alone with high fever and the threat of execution. He turned to his Bible and read Psalm 27—the psalm from which the Oxford university motto comes: "The Lord is my light and my salvation." He wrote in his journal, "Much comforted by Psalm 27." The next day, the king ordered that he be speared to death. But he had been comforted by the Bible. God speaks.
Lord, I have heard of your fame. I stand in awe of your deeds. Lord, repeat them in our day. In our time, make them known. In wrath, remember mercy.
What he's saying is: God, do what you said you did. Do it again. I'm comforted by these promises that you're going to bring justice, judgment, and salvation. Would you do what you said you'd do? And when you act in justice and judgment, don't forget your mercy.
He has confidence to pray like that because he knows what God is like. He's addressing not some vague deity, but the Lord—the name God gave Himself when He revealed Himself to Moses: "I am the Lord. I am who I am. I will be who I will be." This name became associated with God's covenant love.
In the light of what God did in the past—rescuing His people from slavery in Egypt—Habakkuk prays for what God has promised in the future. And if Habakkuk had confidence then, we have much more. God spoke in the past through the prophets, but in these last days, He has spoken to us through His Son. The word became flesh and dwelt among us. It was on the cross that wrath and mercy met. So we can pray, "Lord, would you do it again? Would you come and finish the job of salvation? Jesus, please return."
Life won't always be easy. Look at the circumstances, and our heart sinks. Look within, and we're riddled often by anxiety, doubt, and fear. Look to God and His word, and at last, God willing, peace will come.
Do you notice this whole chapter is set to music? "A prayer of Habakkuk the prophet on Shigonoth." We don't know exactly what that means—it seems to refer to some kind of musical notation, a tune or tempo. Look at the end of the chapter: "For the director of music on my stringed instruments." Here are words, a prayer of Habakkuk, put to music so that future generations can sing it.
Often when we're going through hard times, we just don't know what to say. Wonderfully, the Bible gives us words to say. But why a song and not just truths written in black and white? Music helps us express feelings and sometimes helps us feel feelings we didn't have before. The truths we can read in black and white inhabit the heart more and more. That's what music does. That's what poetry does.
The truths of this chapter could be expressed in one simple sentence: God will come to judge His enemies and save His people. The Bible says that again and again. But here it's expressed with beautiful imagery and music, in the hope that these truths don't just impact the head but, in the midst of all the trauma, horror, confusion, and uncertainty, they hit the heart and we delight in them.
In the first section of chapter three, verses 3 to 7, there's poetic imagery meant for meditation. It's like the entrance of a boxer or a dancer—there's tremendous drama. You're waiting, and then they appear.
His splendor was like the sunrise. Rays flashed from his hand. He stood and shook the earth. He looked and made the nations tremble. The ancient mountains crumbled and the age-old hills collapsed.
We talk about someone being "as old as the hills." The landscape changes slightly, the houses change, but the shapes of the hills and mountains seem eternal. We can look at some of the fixed realities of the world—sometimes very fixed, uncomfortable, difficult realities. Some nations look fixed and difficult. But they disappear in a moment when the Lord appears.
God is presented here as a mighty warrior, with no match for any human power, physical power, or spiritual power. He's a God of mighty, awesome strength. When He rode to deliver His people at the Red Sea:
Did you rage against the sea when you rode your horses and your chariots to victory? The sea just parted.
And now, in the final vision:
Sun and moon stood still in the heavens, at the glint of your flying arrows, at the lightning of your flashing spear.
The nations around worshiped the sun and the moon. But God is saying, "Look at the sun and the moon." When they see God, they pause. If the sun and moon had mouths, their jaws would be gaping. They're saying to one another, "Take a look at that." They stand in awe at the God who made everything, controls everything, and will one day subdue everything. All that is evil, all that seems out of control, is under complete control and in order again.
You came out to deliver your people to save your anointed one, your Christ.
God's Christ and His people are bound together. Of course, the greatest victory of all was on the cross. Jesus looked as if He'd been defeated. Everything looked completely out of control. But God raised Him from the grave. God and His anointed one are seen to rule over all things and all powers forever.
Jesus was the warrior king. He came to earth, and all the things we're powerless against—He just said the word and sickness departed. Dead people rose from the dead. Even in that storm, He said, "Peace, be still," and there was complete calm.
Sometimes just reading truths isn't enough. We know the truths, but they don't sink in. That's why the Bible is such a rich variety. Sometimes we just need to be told the truth in black and white. At other times, a truth we know so well is described in beautiful poetic form. Imagine the images, see them, and sing them so that they might, God willing, sink in and strengthen us in the hard times of the present and prepare us for the hard times still to come.
What's Habakkuk's response to this revelation? It's profound:
I heard and my heart pounded. My lips quivered at the sound. Decay crept into my bones and my legs trembled. Yet I will wait patiently for the day of calamity to come on the nation invading us.
I heard, and I believed your word. So I'm waiting for the time when you'll do what you've said—bring judgment on all evil and destroy all that is messy in the world and put everything right. I'm waiting for that time. And I'm not just waiting through gritted teeth, grinning and bearing it.
Yet I will rejoice in the Lord. I will be joyful in God my savior. The sovereign Lord is my strength.
How's that possible? It's possible because he heard God's word, and by the Spirit, those truths sank in. The truths in his head became a song in his heart. Yes, even in the midst of suffering, he rejoiced.
Can you say, "My savior, my strength"? If you've never come to faith in Jesus, we commend Him to you. We're not asking you just to believe truths out there, but to receive Christ for yourself. For those of us who are Christians, let's remember in the hard times: my Lord, my savior is with me, and He can be my strength.
This is not some super-spiritual spirituality that removes the pain. Many of you remember Pebb Smeen, a lovely missionary who came to Oxford and lived amongst us for many years. Right towards the end of her life, she had a stroke and was stuck at home. I went to visit her, and she was so frustrated. She said, "Getting old is no fun." As she described it, she started crying. Then a little bit later, she said, "But you know, God has been so good to me. He's been with me. He's strengthened me." And then she started crying again.
The first cries were cries of frustration at the pain. The next cries were cries of joy at Jesus being with her. Both were true. They didn't cancel each other out. Don't feel guilty if you feel the tears of grief, sadness, and confusion. But even in the midst of those, we can know the tears of joy because Jesus is our strength. And one day, the One who has come will come again, and all will be well.
