Rev. Dr. Joel D. Biermann
Habakkuk 1:1-4, 2:1-4
Habakkuk 1:1-4, 2:1-4
October 2, 2016
Several Sundays ago, my wife and I began our morning routine
with an unwelcome surprise: no hot water.
I assumed that our water heater’s pilot light had gone out and headed
downstairs to re-ignite it. I read the
instructions on the tank. I followed the
instructions on the tank. I lit the
pilot and waited the full required minute before releasing the gas flow
button. And, as soon as I did, the
little blue flame vanished. Hoping for a
Sunday morning miracle, I repeated the scenario three more times…with the same
result each time. I’m not particularly
skilled at mechanical repairs, but I once heard someone blame a malfunctioning
pilot light on a thermocouple. So, I
diagnosed that as my problem. At church,
my ever-resourceful wife made a passing comment about our predicament to just
the right person, and soon a considerably more mechanically-inclined friend of
mine actually confirmed my diagnosis.
And, then he did a very brave and noble thing: he volunteered to make my
pilot light his afternoon project—I had a Sunday miracle after all. Driving home from church, I told my wife our
grand plan to fix the water heater. And
she communicated to me, without saying a, word, what she always communicates to me when
I embark on a home repair. It was quite
clear and unmistakable: “I hope you know what you’re doing.” Of course, I didn’t, but I was sure that my
friend did. On schedule, my friend and
expert arrived with his smile, and his tools…and his Reader’s Digest Guide for
do-it-yourself home repairs. It turned
out that he’d never replaced a thermocouple either. As we descended into the basement, even I
began to wonder: do we know what we’re doing?
It’s a good question.
Of course, it’s probably better to ask the question before you
disassemble the entire gas hookup to your water heater…but it’s a good
question. Does he know what he’s doing? We have frequent opportunities to ask. It’s 4th and goal from the 2 and
the coach calls a passing play. Does he
know what he’s doing? It’s Christmas at
the mall, and a guy is trying to ease his extended cab dual-wheel pick up into
a crooked parking space between two Suburbans.
Does he know what he’s doing? Your
neighbor decides to line his driveway with Bradford Pears planted 18 inches
apart. Does he know what he’s doing? We
ask the question often—maybe not always out loud, but we ask. Habakkuk was asking the question. A pious prophet of God, eager to see God’s
truth upheld and justice extended, Habakkuk looked around at God’s chosen
nation of Judah and at every turn he saw injustice, violence, and
wickedness. Why was such a thing allowed
to happen? Did God know what he was
doing? Habakkuk had his doubts, and he
prayed, or more accurately pleaded with God to provide some sort of answer to
alleviate his fears and ease his crisis of faith. In the face of all the contrary evidence, the
prophet’s faith needed help.
It might seem a hazardous and rash thing to look heavenward
and demand: God, do you know what you’re doing?
But, Habakkuk is hardly the first or the last creature to put the
question to the Creator. Centuries and
millennia go by, but the world changes little.
There is still violence in the streets.
There is still injustice in the courtroom. There is still greed in the marketplace. There is still corruption in the
government. There is still dishonesty in
the business deal. And even more alarming,
the world now seems increasingly determined to defy God’s moral commands about
protecting life, honoring marriage, and caring for the neighbor. Look around at our world today, and in your
unguarded, honest, moments you wonder: does God know what he’s doing?
But the decay of the world is only the beginning of the
questions. Look around at the church and
the picture is hardly encouraging.
Shrinking numbers, disappearing young people, lackluster participation,
aging demographic, and a society that responds to the church with hostility or,
even worse, with simple indifference.
The church seems irrelevant at best.
More troubling still, far too often, the church actually bears a
remarkable and unsettling resemblance to the surrounding culture. All of the ills that afflict the decadence of
the world make a parallel appearance in the church. Petty quarrels, envy over the blessings
enjoyed by others, apathy toward the pain and sorrow of others, self-absorption
in trying to get what you need from those around you: it’s embarrassing, but we
know it to be true, all of these worldly sins are quite as at home in the church
as they are in the world. You see the
church and can’t help but ask, “Does God know what he’s doing?”
And, then you tighten your gaze a little more, confine your
view to your work and your home, and you wonder again. Your job is largely uninteresting and
unfulfilling, and you’re always underappreciated and underpaid. Your dreams of what marriage should be haven’t
materialized—not even close, and you feel cheated by what you do have. The children you worked so hard to raise,
routinely respond with disrespect or even animosity. You do your best to do the
right thing as a spouse, a parent, and an employee, but it never seems to make
any real difference. You seriously
wonder about the point of it all, and then you wonder why God doesn’t do
something about it and make things better.
You wonder if God knows what he’s doing.
The prophet Habakkuk got his answer from God. It turned out that God was well aware of the
injustice and evil in what was supposed to be his chosen nation—no surprise,
there. What was surprising, was the
answer that finally came. God’s answer
to the prophet’s accusing prayer only made things much worse. God’s plan, announced in detail to the
prophet, was to send a murderous, greedy, pagan nation to punish the wickedness
in Judah. He was sending the Chaldeans,
the Babylonians, to do his work. Poor
Habakkuk. It made no sense at all. He could only wonder all the more: does God
know what he’s doing? When you ask the
question, today, God’s answer isn’t much easier to take. He may not announce a planned alien invasion
by a pagan people and subsequent national destruction, which is, I suppose, a
good thing. But, the answer you do get,
is hardly comforting or encouraging. You
get silence and more of the same. God
chooses not to intervene. He doesn’t
shut down the evil. He doesn’t rebuke
the injustice. He doesn’t turn the
tables and come to the rescue of the righteous.
Instead, he’s silent, and the world and the church and your life all continue
their long slow slide into desperation and futility. Does God know what he’s doing?
But maybe…maybe, there’s something wrong with the
question. Maybe, instead of wondering if
God knows what he’s doing, you should be wondering if you know what you’re
doing. That’s where God led
Habakkuk. God’s answer did not
waver. His plan was set; it would not
change. What changed was Habakkuk’s
response to the plan. God reminded him
that he was still God, and that he would make everything right in his
time. Babylon would not be blessed. They were not in control. They were not the lords. Babylon was nothing but a tool in God’s hand,
a tool that would receive God’s righteous judgment and punishment in full
measure. Habakkuk was asking the wrong
question. God certainly knew what he was
doing. He always does. Habakkuk needed to ask himself if he knew what
he was doing. Clearly, he didn’t! Confronting God and questioning God’s plan
was the wrong thing for Habakkuk to do. Creatures
don’t challenge the Creator. There was
only one thing Habakkuk needed to do: he needed to trust God. He needed to live by faith.
So, do you know what you’re doing? Are you right to despair over the injustice
of the world? Are you right to fret over
the marginalization and decline of the church?
Are you right to grieve over the disappointments that invade your
life? Do you know what you’re
doing? You know that you don’t. God’s response to you is precisely the same as
it was to Habakkuk. Like the ancient
prophet, you are called to live by faith.
That’s it. I’m concerned, though,
that by telling you to live by faith, you get the wrong idea altogether. Most Christians, I suspect, are very confused
about what it means to “live by faith.” So,
let’s be clear about what it means for you to live by faith.
The first point should be obvious. To live by faith means that you stop wasting
time wondering if God knows what he’s doing!
He does. He’s God. His answers are always right. His timing is always perfect. His plan is always on target. Don’t doubt it. All that happens in this world and in your life
is his plan. He knows what he’s doing. Always.
He proved it in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. So, be a good creature and trust your
Creator. He’s got everything under
control. To live by faith, is to trust
God, and to receive all the gifts of grace he has for you in Christ. Don’t get impatient with his plan. Don’t start looking around for
alternatives. Don’t ever, ever, check
out other possible answers to your problems and worries. Any alternative to God’s provision, whether
it is a philosophy, a scientific discovery, a social savior, or a nostalgic
dream of American exceptionalism is nothing but an idol. There is nothing in this world that is going
to fix this world. There is no strategy
that is going to salvage the church.
There is no man or woman who is going to make your life everything that
it is supposed to be. Only God can do
these things, and in Christ, he does.
Trust him.
Ok, now the next thing.
Yeah, there’s a next thing. There
is more to living by faith than trusting
God and receiving his gifts. The next
thing is that you get busy. God
delivered his answer to Habakkuk not so that the prophet could sit back and
say, “Ok, God’s in control, I can coast.”
No. God spoke his truth to
Habakkuk so that those who read the vision would go and proclaim the vision. When you live by faith, you’re active. You do stuff.
To live by faith is to do. The
Christian life is not passive. This is a
mistake Christians often make. They
hear, “Live by faith,” and they assume it means that they don’t need to do a thing. That’s wrong.
When you live by faith you do the things that God gives you to do. And God does
give you things to do. When you see the
world crumbling into decay, you live by faith.
You trust that God will do what he has planned for his creation; and
then you do what he gives you to
do. You speak his truth about the world to
your friends, family, coworkers, and neighbors.
You do what you can to influence and form them with God’s reality. Whenever and however you can, you bring as
much of the world as you can into line with God’s Law. You read, listen, speak, work, pray and vote. In your home when things tear you down, you
live by faith. You double down and do
your best to be what God has made you to be: strive to love and respect your
spouse, work hard to guide and shape your kids and grandkids. At work, you invest in the prosperity of
those you serve: encourage your coworkers; respect those in authority over
you. And when what you see at church
brings sadness and discouragement, you live by faith. Yes, you trust God and his plan for his
church, but you also do what he has given you to do, there. You worship every week. You stay for Bible class and dive into God’s
Word with your church family. You speak
words of admonition and words of support to brothers and sisters who walk the
Christian walk with you. You don’t focus
on what’s wrong, you don’t pine for what once was, you don’t dream of a distant
better day. No, you live by faith. Trust God for today, do what he gives you to
do, today. Sing the liturgy. Belt out the hymns. Pray the prayers. Study the Word. Build up your brothers and sisters. Receive the body and the blood. Be the church. That’s what it means to live by faith. That’s what God calls you to do. Together, this is what we will do.
Don’t wonder whether God knows what he’s doing. He does.
Ask yourself if you know what you’re doing. Ask yourself if you are living by faith. When you live by faith, you live in that
delightful place where God delivers his grace.
Savor it. When you live by faith,
you’ve got things that need to be done.
Do those things. Truth be told,
my friend and I did not really know what we were doing that Sunday afternoon in
the basement. My wife was quite right to
wonder about our competence. The project
took far too long, but after some mistakes, the requisite trip to Lowe’s, and a
few steps that had to be done, re-done, and then re-done again, at last the
thermocouple in my water heater was replaced. The pilot light is still burning its
delightful little blue flame even now. Pooling our meager knowledge and trusting the
guidance of Reader’s Digest, somehow, we got the job done. And that’s how it goes. When you get right down to it, and when
you’re honest, you know it’s true: you don’t know what you’re doing. But, God does. And he will do what he plans to do, and use
you in the process. Be sure of it. That’s what it means to live by faith. Habakkuk learned it. You learn it.
Amen.