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Old Testament School of Prayer
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Old Testament School of Prayer
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Connected by scripture or shared themes.
How do you pray when disaster strikes or life falls apart? Are you even able to pray in the face of serious trouble—in the world, the church, or your personal life? If you struggle to draw near to God or to find the right words, be assured you're not alone.
You may want to pray, but wonder: Does God care? Is he listening? And if he is, does he really want to hear what I'm feeling? Especially if that feeling is anger in the face of injustice or pain caused by great loss.
If you've ever thought that way about prayer, or if you do in the future, you'll find the prophet Habakkuk highly profitable. He is one of the 12 minor prophets—not minor because he's less important, but because his prophecy is brief. You can read the whole book in under 10 minutes. Habakkuk knows all about praying in tough times.
Reflect for a moment on the dark reality he foresees heading his and the nation's way. In verse 17, he describes:
The fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines. The olive crop fails and the fields produce no food. There are no sheep in the sheep fold and no cattle in the stalls.
This is not just a bad day or a bad season. God's people in the southern kingdom of Judah around 600 BC faced economic ruin and utter devastation. They relied on their land for everything—growing crops, raising livestock, making a living. But their land would soon be overrun and occupied by the ruthless superpower Babylon.
It's hard for most of us to relate. We may hear of a drought, but supermarket shelves remain fully stocked. In Habakkuk's day, this Babylonian invasion would lead to economic devastation, political turmoil, the destruction of the temple, and the dismantling of worship. It's understandable that he questions whether God hears his prayers or cares about his concerns.
In chapter 1, he raises a grievance with God: "How long, Lord, must I call for help, but you do not listen? Or cry out to you violence, but you do not save? Why do you make me look at injustice? Why do you tolerate wrongdoing?" Ever been there in your prayers?
The whole book of Habakkuk is essentially a dialogue between Habakkuk and God. We'll focus on chapter 3 because verse 1 states explicitly that this is a prayer of Habakkuk the prophet. It has the feel of a psalm about it because it's a prayer meant to be sung. The obscure Hebrew word "shigionoth" at the end of verse 1 likely hints at that—probably a musical term. One commentator suggested it might describe a passionate and emotionally intense style of music, which certainly fits the tone of this little book, which is strong on lament.
What we know for sure is that Habakkuk expects his prayer to be put to music. Notice at the end of verse 19, he leaves a note for the director of music: "On my stringed instruments." So, no drums, no trumpets, no flutes for this song, only the strings—harps, lyres, lutes perhaps.
We will draw out three key lessons that we can learn from how Habakkuk prays—three timeless truths that apply to Christian prayer today.
If disaster strikes or life falls apart, we pray most effectively when we respond to God's word. Look at verse 2:
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.
Habakkuk prays in response to what the Lord reveals about himself and his plans in his word—especially what God has just been saying in chapters 1 and 2 in response to his prophet's two complaints.
His first complaint is: God, why do you tolerate wrongdoing among your very own people, in the church we might say? God's answer is: I have a plan. I'm going to do something unbelievable in your day. I'll raise up the Babylonians, that ruthless and impetuous people, to discipline my people for their sin and idolatry.
This gives rise to Habakkuk's second complaint: Lord, surely not. You're not going to use them of all people. Your eyes are too pure to look on evil. You cannot tolerate wrongdoing. God's answer to that complaint is: Don't you worry about the proud and puffed-up Babylonians. When they fulfilled my purposes as an instrument of discipline, they will then face judgment for their wickedness.
In this back-and-forth dialogue, Habakkuk wrestles with how God can be sovereign and providential. How can a perfectly holy God, who is utterly good, use evil people to accomplish his purposes? And then punish those same people for their evil deeds? It's a mystery. God doesn't explain it away or justify his actions. His final word is: "The Lord is in his holy temple. Let all the earth be silent before him." If you like it more simply, God says: "Shh."
We're not told how much time passes between the end of chapter 2 and Habakkuk's prayer in chapter 3. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a bit of a gap before he has the courage to speak to God again—this time, not with a complaint, but with humility, reverence, and awe: Lord, I've heard what you said. I know who you are. I stand in awe of what you do.
What the Lord says, what the Lord is like, and what the Lord does are like three legs of a sturdy stool that we can sit on with great confidence and security. The perfect, awesome deeds of God flow from the perfect, awesome nature of God, as revealed to us in the perfect, awesome word of God.
The more that I feed on his word, the more I grow in knowledge of this God, the more effectively I'll be able to pray in line with his awesome nature and deeds—particularly in times of crisis.
Jesus teaches us this principle in John 15. His wonderful promises about prayer come with two clear conditions:
If you remain in me and my words remain in you, then ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you.
This helps explain why Habakkuk, thinking of the discipline that God's people are soon to endure, can pray confidently: In wrath, remember mercy. He knows that although God is holy and rightly opposed to human sin—including sin among his own people—he is also by nature rich in mercy and always merciful in his dealings with sinful human beings.
If ever you find yourself asking God for mercy—whether it's for yourself because you've fallen into sin, for a loved one, or for an unbelieving friend—you can ask boldly and confidently because you're praying according to God's will. God is by nature merciful. You're asking him simply: Be who you are, God.
We're told elsewhere that our God is rich in mercy. When it comes to mercy, God is loaded. He is flush. Pastor and author Dane Ortlund puts it like this: God is not tight-fisted with mercy, but open-handed. Not frugal, but lavish.
In nearly 35 years of Christian faith, my most effective prayers are consistently those rooted in and flowing from what I've heard about God and his purposes in his holy word.
I want to heartily recommend to us all that we combine our personal Bible reading with our personal prayer—both in private and in our home groups. Don't rush to pray for things and situations. When you've had a Bible study, take time to pray it in. It helps bring both Bible reading and prayer alive. Read something from God's word and then immediately turn it into a prayer for yourself, for the church, for the world, for unbelieving friends.
Here's an example. If you're really going through it or you know someone you love who is, you could pray a prayer rooted in 2 Corinthians 1:3-4:
Merciful God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, Father of compassion, God of all comfort, please comfort me (or comfort them) in all our troubles so that whatever your purpose is in our lives right now, the day may come when we can comfort others in the trouble that we have with the comfort that we ourselves have received from you.
It's a great prayer. God delights to answer those kind of prayers. They're always according to his will because they spring from his word.
Secondly, we learn from verses 3 to 15: remember God's ways. As Habakkuk waits for evidence of God's mercy, he looks back and reminds himself of God's merciful ways in the past when his people were in times of need or distress.
There are various allusions here to different Old Testament passages. Let me draw out two things that help us to remember God's ways as we pray.
In verses 3 to 7, remember the God of glory and splendor. Verse 3 says:
God came from Teman, the Holy One from Mount Paran.
Those are two sites associated with the glorious appearing of the Lord at Mount Sinai in the book of Exodus when Moses receives the law. At that time:
His glory covered the heavens and his praise filled the earth. His splendor was like the sunrise. Rays flashed from his hand where his power was hidden.
Remember how a cloud descended upon the mountain to hide the fullness of his glory. And then, to rescue his people from slavery in Egypt, he showed his glory to mighty Pharaoh:
Plague went before him. Pestilence followed his steps.
His glory and splendor are felt by the nations in so-called natural disasters too. Verse 6 says:
He stood and shook the earth. He looked and made the nations tremble.
We shouldn't be surprised by such things. We witnessed the splendor of our glorious Creator in recent eclipses—the one who sustains sun, moon, stars, and everything.
Habakkuk's picture of the earth-shaking, terrifying appearance of the Lord finds a remarkable echo at the cross, where creation itself responds to the death of the Son of God. Listen to what Matthew writes after Jesus has cried out in a loud voice on the cross and given up his spirit (Matthew 27:51):
At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook, the rocks split, and the tombs broke open. The bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. When the centurion and those with him who were guarding Jesus saw the earthquake and all that had happened they were terrified and exclaimed, "Surely he was the Son of God."
The centurion was right—apart from one little but vital word. Jesus is the Son of God. Death could not hold him. On the third day he rose from the dead. He's now seated at God's right hand.
If any of you this morning are doubting God's ability or his willingness to save you out of whatever you might be personally battling with, listen to the writer of Hebrews:
Because Jesus lives forever, he has a permanent priesthood. Therefore, he is able to save completely those who come to God through him because he always lives to intercede for them. (Hebrews 7:24)
Jesus always lives to intercede for his people.
In verses 8 to 15, Habakkuk's prayer encourages us when we pray to remember the God who fights to save his people. God is described as a formidable divine warrior who stands in fierce opposition to anyone who dares to oppose his anointed king and all those who belong to him.
Just look at the warrior language at the end of verse 8:
Did you rage against the sea when you rode your horses and your chariots to victory? You uncovered your bow. You called for many arrows.
I think of the God of angel armies saving his people by wiping out Pharaoh's army. The presence of this mighty warrior who hears and answers the prayers of his people powerfully impacts the created world. Verse 10 says:
The mountains saw you and writhed. Torrents of water swept by, the deep roared and lifted its waves on high. Sun and moon stood still in the heavens at the glint of your flying arrows, at the lightning of your flashing spear.
It all reminds us that our awesome God is all powerful and unstoppable. Do you know this morning that he has no equal? That he has no rival? That there is no other God than the one who calls himself the rock?
But notice: he's not driven by uncontrollable wrath. He's not shaking the nations with a fly-off-the-handle kind of anger. No, it is always controlled, always measured, always purposeful. Why does he stride through the earth like a warrior? Look at verse 13:
You came out to deliver your people, to save your anointed one. You crushed the leader of the land of wickedness. You stripped him from head to foot. With his own spear, you pierced his head when his warriors stormed out to scatter us.
Whatever struggles you and I may be facing right now—minor skirmishes perhaps, major battles with health, family, work, or apparently overwhelming opposition and persecution for our faith in Jesus and living a godly life—whatever or whoever the enemy, Habakkuk's prayer reminds us that the Lord, who is rich in mercy, is also armed, ready, and able to save his people. To save you. If not in this life from what you're battling with, certainly in the life to come. And he is only ever one heartfelt prayer away.
He saved his anointed King Jesus, who faced more trouble, opposition, accusation, hatred, pain, and humiliation than we can even imagine. He had to be crucified to crush the ultimate leader of the land of wickedness—the one that we know as Satan, the devil.
And so, if you're trusting this morning in God's anointed King Jesus, know that his divine power is fighting for your ultimate good, even if for now you cannot see evidence of that spiritual reality.
In the face of fiery trials—whether it's your own or those that you're praying for who are facing fiery trials—I want to encourage us to ask God that we'd have the same conviction of faith that Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego had. They were about to be thrown into a blazing furnace for refusing to bow down and worship King Nebuchadnezzar's image of gold. Listen to what they say (Daniel 3:17):
If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it. And he will deliver us from your majesty's hand. But even if he does not, we want you to know, your majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.
That, dear friends, is faith under fire. But you can only say that kind of thing and mean it if you treasure your relationship with the Lord Jesus more than you value or treasure anything or anyone else.
And that's exactly what we learn from this final section of Habakkuk's song of prayer and praise—verses 16 to 19, when we rejoice in God's salvation.
I love the authenticity of Habakkuk in verse 16. How real he is in the way that he prays. One of our values here at Above Bar Church is authentic community. I think sometimes we need to put that more into practice. Habakkuk would be a great example for us.
See, he's listened to God answer his grievance. He's cried out for mercy as he contemplates God's discipline. He's reminded himself of the glory and splendor of the warrior God who fights to save his people. And you might think, "Well, that's it. Great. He's all good now. He said his prayers. He'll just be happy and everybody will live happily ever after." But no.
He's impacted physically by the power of God's word and the terrifying reality of God's discipline which is going to come on the nation. Verse 16:
I heard and my heart pounded. My lips quivered at the sound. Decay crept into my bones and my legs trembled.
That's authenticity, isn't it? It's being real about where he's at. He's hurting. He's in distress. Through his prophet Isaiah, God says: "These are the ones I look on with favor. Those who are humble and contrite in spirit and who tremble at my word." That idea of trembling before God, trembling at his word, is echoed in Proverbs 28:14:
Blessed is the one who always trembles before God. But whoever hardens their heart falls into trouble.
Having listened attentively to God's word, Habakkuk determines—at the end of verse 16—to wait patiently for the day of calamity to come on the nation invading us. And you know, that is sometimes the approach we need to take in times of trouble. We bring our brief grievance to God. We pour out our hearts. We listen to his word. But if God chooses not to deliver us immediately from the trial that we're in, well, there comes a point where we simply have to say:
Lord, I leave it with you. You are God. I am not. I will wait patiently for you.
But I can only do that. I can only possibly cope with this measure of devastation and loss that Habakkuk describes if I genuinely love God more than I love God's gifts.
Habakkuk is saying: if everything is stripped away and taken (verse 18), yet I will rejoice in the Lord. I will be joyful in God my savior.
I've shared before that I've had a couple of seasons in my Christian life where the Lord has stripped away material things—many things. Christian ministry, income, home, car, health, even friendships. But he's done this to bring me back to a place where I recognize that nothing is more important than the Lord Jesus himself and my relationship with him.
You, brothers and sisters, that is what trials tend to do—in churches, in families, in individuals, in nations. It's one of God's explicitly stated and gracious purposes in providentially allowing trials into the lives of his people.
Peter writes: "These have come, so that the proven genuineness of your faith, of greater worth than gold which perishes even though refined by fire, may result in praise, glory, and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. You have not seen him, you love him. And even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy."
I know there are some here this morning who are feeling anything but inexpressible and glorious joy. There can be all kinds of reasons for that—not least of all just a general spiritual malaise, or a satanic attack, or depression. For some, it's because you've not yet trusted in Jesus as your savior, so your confidence and hope are still in the things of this world, which will eventually pass away and lead you to sorrow. You can put that right today by simply calling out to the Lord Jesus: "Have mercy on me, a sinner. Be my savior today."
Others who trust Jesus, it may well be that your heart has been drawn away to love God's gifts more than you love the Lord himself. Or it may simply be that what you're enduring right now is just really hard and really painful, and that's okay. You can be real with God about that. You can be real with your brothers and sisters about that.
I want to encourage you. Don't rush out. Stop and pray with somebody. Ask for prayer. I will be happy to pray. I'll be here. Please don't leave without asking for prayer. Maybe ask for prayer that the joy of the Lord would be your strength even in the midst of troubles.
I think we'd all do well to ponder the wisdom of 18th century preacher Jonathan Edwards. He wrote this in an essay: "The enjoyment of God is the only happiness with which our souls will be satisfied. The enjoyment of God is the only happiness with which our souls can be satisfied."
I had the joy yesterday of celebrating the marriage of Joseph Deans, a former student here, to Emily, which was a very special occasion. And as they exchanged their vows, I was struck again by how marriage is a picture of our relationship with the Lord Jesus if we're Christians. In that relationship, we need to understand that we are the bride. To believe in Jesus is a little bit like making a vow to cling to him forever—for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish him.
But more importantly, Christ, your bridegroom, he vows to cling to you no matter what. No matter how dark life gets, he will lead you through the valley of the shadow of death and safely into his eternal kingdom. And he is faithful. He will do it.
Oh Lord, teach us to pray that no matter what may happen in this life, you will always be our strength and our joy.
Father, thank you that you are the faithful one. You are the rock. You know exactly where each of us is at this morning in our walk with you—whether we're not yet trusting in you, or whether we've perhaps fallen away into sin and are experiencing the sorrows of following other gods. But you reminded us this morning, Lord, that you are rich in mercy. And so, Lord, we pray that whatever our particular situation, you would please make mercy abound to us as a church, as individuals, as families.
Oh, Lord, you are merciful. You are rich in mercy. And so, may we even in this very moment as we come to share communion together, may we be very conscious of your mercy, your amazing grace, your forgiveness, all through the Lord Jesus. Amen.
How do you pray when disaster strikes or life falls apart? Are you even able to pray in the face of serious trouble—in the world, the church, or your personal life? If you struggle to draw near to God or to find the right words, be assured you're not alone.
You may want to pray, but wonder: Does God care? Is he listening? And if he is, does he really want to hear what I'm feeling? Especially if that feeling is anger in the face of injustice or pain caused by great loss.
If you've ever thought that way about prayer, or if you do in the future, you'll find the prophet Habakkuk highly profitable. He is one of the 12 minor prophets—not minor because he's less important, but because his prophecy is brief. You can read the whole book in under 10 minutes. Habakkuk knows all about praying in tough times.
Reflect for a moment on the dark reality he foresees heading his and the nation's way. In verse 17, he describes:
The fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines. The olive crop fails and the fields produce no food. There are no sheep in the sheep fold and no cattle in the stalls.
This is not just a bad day or a bad season. God's people in the southern kingdom of Judah around 600 BC faced economic ruin and utter devastation. They relied on their land for everything—growing crops, raising livestock, making a living. But their land would soon be overrun and occupied by the ruthless superpower Babylon.
It's hard for most of us to relate. We may hear of a drought, but supermarket shelves remain fully stocked. In Habakkuk's day, this Babylonian invasion would lead to economic devastation, political turmoil, the destruction of the temple, and the dismantling of worship. It's understandable that he questions whether God hears his prayers or cares about his concerns.
In chapter 1, he raises a grievance with God: "How long, Lord, must I call for help, but you do not listen? Or cry out to you violence, but you do not save? Why do you make me look at injustice? Why do you tolerate wrongdoing?" Ever been there in your prayers?
The whole book of Habakkuk is essentially a dialogue between Habakkuk and God. We'll focus on chapter 3 because verse 1 states explicitly that this is a prayer of Habakkuk the prophet. It has the feel of a psalm about it because it's a prayer meant to be sung. The obscure Hebrew word "shigionoth" at the end of verse 1 likely hints at that—probably a musical term. One commentator suggested it might describe a passionate and emotionally intense style of music, which certainly fits the tone of this little book, which is strong on lament.
What we know for sure is that Habakkuk expects his prayer to be put to music. Notice at the end of verse 19, he leaves a note for the director of music: "On my stringed instruments." So, no drums, no trumpets, no flutes for this song, only the strings—harps, lyres, lutes perhaps.
We will draw out three key lessons that we can learn from how Habakkuk prays—three timeless truths that apply to Christian prayer today.
If disaster strikes or life falls apart, we pray most effectively when we respond to God's word. Look at verse 2:
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.
Habakkuk prays in response to what the Lord reveals about himself and his plans in his word—especially what God has just been saying in chapters 1 and 2 in response to his prophet's two complaints.
His first complaint is: God, why do you tolerate wrongdoing among your very own people, in the church we might say? God's answer is: I have a plan. I'm going to do something unbelievable in your day. I'll raise up the Babylonians, that ruthless and impetuous people, to discipline my people for their sin and idolatry.
This gives rise to Habakkuk's second complaint: Lord, surely not. You're not going to use them of all people. Your eyes are too pure to look on evil. You cannot tolerate wrongdoing. God's answer to that complaint is: Don't you worry about the proud and puffed-up Babylonians. When they fulfilled my purposes as an instrument of discipline, they will then face judgment for their wickedness.
In this back-and-forth dialogue, Habakkuk wrestles with how God can be sovereign and providential. How can a perfectly holy God, who is utterly good, use evil people to accomplish his purposes? And then punish those same people for their evil deeds? It's a mystery. God doesn't explain it away or justify his actions. His final word is: "The Lord is in his holy temple. Let all the earth be silent before him." If you like it more simply, God says: "Shh."
We're not told how much time passes between the end of chapter 2 and Habakkuk's prayer in chapter 3. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a bit of a gap before he has the courage to speak to God again—this time, not with a complaint, but with humility, reverence, and awe: Lord, I've heard what you said. I know who you are. I stand in awe of what you do.
What the Lord says, what the Lord is like, and what the Lord does are like three legs of a sturdy stool that we can sit on with great confidence and security. The perfect, awesome deeds of God flow from the perfect, awesome nature of God, as revealed to us in the perfect, awesome word of God.
The more that I feed on his word, the more I grow in knowledge of this God, the more effectively I'll be able to pray in line with his awesome nature and deeds—particularly in times of crisis.
Jesus teaches us this principle in John 15. His wonderful promises about prayer come with two clear conditions:
If you remain in me and my words remain in you, then ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you.
This helps explain why Habakkuk, thinking of the discipline that God's people are soon to endure, can pray confidently: In wrath, remember mercy. He knows that although God is holy and rightly opposed to human sin—including sin among his own people—he is also by nature rich in mercy and always merciful in his dealings with sinful human beings.
If ever you find yourself asking God for mercy—whether it's for yourself because you've fallen into sin, for a loved one, or for an unbelieving friend—you can ask boldly and confidently because you're praying according to God's will. God is by nature merciful. You're asking him simply: Be who you are, God.
We're told elsewhere that our God is rich in mercy. When it comes to mercy, God is loaded. He is flush. Pastor and author Dane Ortlund puts it like this: God is not tight-fisted with mercy, but open-handed. Not frugal, but lavish.
In nearly 35 years of Christian faith, my most effective prayers are consistently those rooted in and flowing from what I've heard about God and his purposes in his holy word.
I want to heartily recommend to us all that we combine our personal Bible reading with our personal prayer—both in private and in our home groups. Don't rush to pray for things and situations. When you've had a Bible study, take time to pray it in. It helps bring both Bible reading and prayer alive. Read something from God's word and then immediately turn it into a prayer for yourself, for the church, for the world, for unbelieving friends.
Here's an example. If you're really going through it or you know someone you love who is, you could pray a prayer rooted in 2 Corinthians 1:3-4:
Merciful God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, Father of compassion, God of all comfort, please comfort me (or comfort them) in all our troubles so that whatever your purpose is in our lives right now, the day may come when we can comfort others in the trouble that we have with the comfort that we ourselves have received from you.
It's a great prayer. God delights to answer those kind of prayers. They're always according to his will because they spring from his word.
Secondly, we learn from verses 3 to 15: remember God's ways. As Habakkuk waits for evidence of God's mercy, he looks back and reminds himself of God's merciful ways in the past when his people were in times of need or distress.
There are various allusions here to different Old Testament passages. Let me draw out two things that help us to remember God's ways as we pray.
In verses 3 to 7, remember the God of glory and splendor. Verse 3 says:
God came from Teman, the Holy One from Mount Paran.
Those are two sites associated with the glorious appearing of the Lord at Mount Sinai in the book of Exodus when Moses receives the law. At that time:
His glory covered the heavens and his praise filled the earth. His splendor was like the sunrise. Rays flashed from his hand where his power was hidden.
Remember how a cloud descended upon the mountain to hide the fullness of his glory. And then, to rescue his people from slavery in Egypt, he showed his glory to mighty Pharaoh:
Plague went before him. Pestilence followed his steps.
His glory and splendor are felt by the nations in so-called natural disasters too. Verse 6 says:
He stood and shook the earth. He looked and made the nations tremble.
We shouldn't be surprised by such things. We witnessed the splendor of our glorious Creator in recent eclipses—the one who sustains sun, moon, stars, and everything.
Habakkuk's picture of the earth-shaking, terrifying appearance of the Lord finds a remarkable echo at the cross, where creation itself responds to the death of the Son of God. Listen to what Matthew writes after Jesus has cried out in a loud voice on the cross and given up his spirit (Matthew 27:51):
At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook, the rocks split, and the tombs broke open. The bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. When the centurion and those with him who were guarding Jesus saw the earthquake and all that had happened they were terrified and exclaimed, "Surely he was the Son of God."
The centurion was right—apart from one little but vital word. Jesus is the Son of God. Death could not hold him. On the third day he rose from the dead. He's now seated at God's right hand.
If any of you this morning are doubting God's ability or his willingness to save you out of whatever you might be personally battling with, listen to the writer of Hebrews:
Because Jesus lives forever, he has a permanent priesthood. Therefore, he is able to save completely those who come to God through him because he always lives to intercede for them. (Hebrews 7:24)
Jesus always lives to intercede for his people.
In verses 8 to 15, Habakkuk's prayer encourages us when we pray to remember the God who fights to save his people. God is described as a formidable divine warrior who stands in fierce opposition to anyone who dares to oppose his anointed king and all those who belong to him.
Just look at the warrior language at the end of verse 8:
Did you rage against the sea when you rode your horses and your chariots to victory? You uncovered your bow. You called for many arrows.
I think of the God of angel armies saving his people by wiping out Pharaoh's army. The presence of this mighty warrior who hears and answers the prayers of his people powerfully impacts the created world. Verse 10 says:
The mountains saw you and writhed. Torrents of water swept by, the deep roared and lifted its waves on high. Sun and moon stood still in the heavens at the glint of your flying arrows, at the lightning of your flashing spear.
It all reminds us that our awesome God is all powerful and unstoppable. Do you know this morning that he has no equal? That he has no rival? That there is no other God than the one who calls himself the rock?
But notice: he's not driven by uncontrollable wrath. He's not shaking the nations with a fly-off-the-handle kind of anger. No, it is always controlled, always measured, always purposeful. Why does he stride through the earth like a warrior? Look at verse 13:
You came out to deliver your people, to save your anointed one. You crushed the leader of the land of wickedness. You stripped him from head to foot. With his own spear, you pierced his head when his warriors stormed out to scatter us.
Whatever struggles you and I may be facing right now—minor skirmishes perhaps, major battles with health, family, work, or apparently overwhelming opposition and persecution for our faith in Jesus and living a godly life—whatever or whoever the enemy, Habakkuk's prayer reminds us that the Lord, who is rich in mercy, is also armed, ready, and able to save his people. To save you. If not in this life from what you're battling with, certainly in the life to come. And he is only ever one heartfelt prayer away.
He saved his anointed King Jesus, who faced more trouble, opposition, accusation, hatred, pain, and humiliation than we can even imagine. He had to be crucified to crush the ultimate leader of the land of wickedness—the one that we know as Satan, the devil.
And so, if you're trusting this morning in God's anointed King Jesus, know that his divine power is fighting for your ultimate good, even if for now you cannot see evidence of that spiritual reality.
In the face of fiery trials—whether it's your own or those that you're praying for who are facing fiery trials—I want to encourage us to ask God that we'd have the same conviction of faith that Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego had. They were about to be thrown into a blazing furnace for refusing to bow down and worship King Nebuchadnezzar's image of gold. Listen to what they say (Daniel 3:17):
If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it. And he will deliver us from your majesty's hand. But even if he does not, we want you to know, your majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.
That, dear friends, is faith under fire. But you can only say that kind of thing and mean it if you treasure your relationship with the Lord Jesus more than you value or treasure anything or anyone else.
And that's exactly what we learn from this final section of Habakkuk's song of prayer and praise—verses 16 to 19, when we rejoice in God's salvation.
I love the authenticity of Habakkuk in verse 16. How real he is in the way that he prays. One of our values here at Above Bar Church is authentic community. I think sometimes we need to put that more into practice. Habakkuk would be a great example for us.
See, he's listened to God answer his grievance. He's cried out for mercy as he contemplates God's discipline. He's reminded himself of the glory and splendor of the warrior God who fights to save his people. And you might think, "Well, that's it. Great. He's all good now. He said his prayers. He'll just be happy and everybody will live happily ever after." But no.
He's impacted physically by the power of God's word and the terrifying reality of God's discipline which is going to come on the nation. Verse 16:
I heard and my heart pounded. My lips quivered at the sound. Decay crept into my bones and my legs trembled.
That's authenticity, isn't it? It's being real about where he's at. He's hurting. He's in distress. Through his prophet Isaiah, God says: "These are the ones I look on with favor. Those who are humble and contrite in spirit and who tremble at my word." That idea of trembling before God, trembling at his word, is echoed in Proverbs 28:14:
Blessed is the one who always trembles before God. But whoever hardens their heart falls into trouble.
Having listened attentively to God's word, Habakkuk determines—at the end of verse 16—to wait patiently for the day of calamity to come on the nation invading us. And you know, that is sometimes the approach we need to take in times of trouble. We bring our brief grievance to God. We pour out our hearts. We listen to his word. But if God chooses not to deliver us immediately from the trial that we're in, well, there comes a point where we simply have to say:
Lord, I leave it with you. You are God. I am not. I will wait patiently for you.
But I can only do that. I can only possibly cope with this measure of devastation and loss that Habakkuk describes if I genuinely love God more than I love God's gifts.
Habakkuk is saying: if everything is stripped away and taken (verse 18), yet I will rejoice in the Lord. I will be joyful in God my savior.
I've shared before that I've had a couple of seasons in my Christian life where the Lord has stripped away material things—many things. Christian ministry, income, home, car, health, even friendships. But he's done this to bring me back to a place where I recognize that nothing is more important than the Lord Jesus himself and my relationship with him.
You, brothers and sisters, that is what trials tend to do—in churches, in families, in individuals, in nations. It's one of God's explicitly stated and gracious purposes in providentially allowing trials into the lives of his people.
Peter writes: "These have come, so that the proven genuineness of your faith, of greater worth than gold which perishes even though refined by fire, may result in praise, glory, and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. You have not seen him, you love him. And even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy."
I know there are some here this morning who are feeling anything but inexpressible and glorious joy. There can be all kinds of reasons for that—not least of all just a general spiritual malaise, or a satanic attack, or depression. For some, it's because you've not yet trusted in Jesus as your savior, so your confidence and hope are still in the things of this world, which will eventually pass away and lead you to sorrow. You can put that right today by simply calling out to the Lord Jesus: "Have mercy on me, a sinner. Be my savior today."
Others who trust Jesus, it may well be that your heart has been drawn away to love God's gifts more than you love the Lord himself. Or it may simply be that what you're enduring right now is just really hard and really painful, and that's okay. You can be real with God about that. You can be real with your brothers and sisters about that.
I want to encourage you. Don't rush out. Stop and pray with somebody. Ask for prayer. I will be happy to pray. I'll be here. Please don't leave without asking for prayer. Maybe ask for prayer that the joy of the Lord would be your strength even in the midst of troubles.
I think we'd all do well to ponder the wisdom of 18th century preacher Jonathan Edwards. He wrote this in an essay: "The enjoyment of God is the only happiness with which our souls will be satisfied. The enjoyment of God is the only happiness with which our souls can be satisfied."
I had the joy yesterday of celebrating the marriage of Joseph Deans, a former student here, to Emily, which was a very special occasion. And as they exchanged their vows, I was struck again by how marriage is a picture of our relationship with the Lord Jesus if we're Christians. In that relationship, we need to understand that we are the bride. To believe in Jesus is a little bit like making a vow to cling to him forever—for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish him.
But more importantly, Christ, your bridegroom, he vows to cling to you no matter what. No matter how dark life gets, he will lead you through the valley of the shadow of death and safely into his eternal kingdom. And he is faithful. He will do it.
Oh Lord, teach us to pray that no matter what may happen in this life, you will always be our strength and our joy.
Father, thank you that you are the faithful one. You are the rock. You know exactly where each of us is at this morning in our walk with you—whether we're not yet trusting in you, or whether we've perhaps fallen away into sin and are experiencing the sorrows of following other gods. But you reminded us this morning, Lord, that you are rich in mercy. And so, Lord, we pray that whatever our particular situation, you would please make mercy abound to us as a church, as individuals, as families.
Oh, Lord, you are merciful. You are rich in mercy. And so, may we even in this very moment as we come to share communion together, may we be very conscious of your mercy, your amazing grace, your forgiveness, all through the Lord Jesus. Amen.
