The oracle that the prophet Habakkuk saw.

O Lord, how long shall I cry for help,
and you will not listen?
Or cry to you “Violence!”
and you will not save?
Why do you make me see wrong-doing
and look at trouble?
Destruction and violence are before me;
strife and contention arise.
So the law becomes slack
and justice never prevails.
The wicked surround the righteous–
therefore judgment comes forth perverted.

I will stand at my watchpost,
and station myself on the rampart;
I will keep watch to see what he will say to me,
and what he will answer concerning my complaint.

Then the Lord answered me and said:

Write the vision;
make it plain on tablets,
so that a runner may read it.
For there is still a vision for the appointed time;
it speaks of the end, and does not lie.
If it seems to tarry, wait for it;
it will surely come, it will not delay.
Look at the proud!
Their spirit is not right in them,
but the righteous live by their faith.

the sermon:

So, yesterday was All Saints’ Day… a time when we honor all of the saints who have gone before us and fought the good fight. (With a beautiful service here last night.)

And today is All Souls Day… a time when we remember and pray for all of our family, friends, and loved ones who have passed away, trusting that they’re in God’s care. (With a joint service tonight with another church.)

While All Souls is a beautiful way to remember those we’ve lost, it can still carry a sting. I remember people like my father-in-law, and my oldest nephew… both gone way too early. And while I carry hope, it’s hard not to feel sadness too.

Biblically speaking, that sadness is referred to as lament. But lament is broader than the sadness we feel over those we’ve lost. We lament other things like illness, division, anxiety, and even exhaustion.

Lament is a big part of our lives.

And in the church we tend to get this idea that lament… sadness… isn’t biblical. Like we’re not reflecting God well if we’re not showing that we’re always happy and filled with joy.

But the Bible doesn’t silence lament. It sanctifies it.

Our reading in Habakkuk today shows us that lament isn’t the opposite of faith. It’s actually faith in its most honest form.

Habakkuk’s Crisis

Habakkuk was written in that time before the Babylonian invasion (and exile) of Judah. It was a time when moral and spiritual corruption ran rampant. And this book is different from many of the other prophetic books in that it doesn’t seem to be written to the people of Judah. Rather it’s more of a dialogue between Habakkuk and God.

In the first part of the reading, he launches his complaint:

“O Lord, how long shall I cry for help,
and you will not listen?

Or cry to you “Violence!”
and you will not save?

Why do you make me see wrong-doing
and look at trouble?”

His cry of “How long?” (Hebrew: ‘ad-matay) isn’t a rebellious cry. It’s one of covenantal faith. He believes that God should act, because God is just.

Today we still ask that question, “How long, Lord?”. We see wars, injustice, sickness, death, grief, and unanswered prayers.

Everywhere we turn there seems to be another reason to lament and to cry out to God to change things.

We often find ourselves in the position to ask:

How do we trust a righteous God when evil seems to go unpunished and His justice feels delayed?

The Watchpost: Faithful Waiting

This is where Habakkuk is when things start to shift. He says at the beginning of chapter two:

“I will stand at my watchpost.”

The image here is like that of a soldier or a guard standing watch, scanning the horizon, actively watching.

I can’t help it, but I get the picture in my head of the hilarious Frenchman taunting King Arthur in Monty Python and the Holy Grail… “Your mother was a hamster, and your father smells of elderberries. No go away or I will taunt you a second time!”

Seriously, though… Habakkuk declares that he’s going to stand there guarding. It’s not passive, but attentive and hopeful.

And we, as Christians, are called to the same thing, holding steady in prayer, worship and compassion, even when the heavens feel silent.

Then comes the Lord’s response:

“Write the vision… [though it] tarry, wait for it.”

And the Hebrew there carries this idea of longing endurance. It’s the idea of being persistent in the face of challenges, driven by a deep desire or hope for a future outcome.

Imagine for a moment, if you will, waiting with Habakkuk. In the face of all of the struggle going on… his heart aching, yet eyes fixed on the horizon… waiting.

God’s Response: The Righteous Live by Faith(fulness)

The Lord continues:

“Look at the proud!
Their spirit is not right in them,
but the righteous live by their faith.”

We see this contrast happening here between “the proud” and “the righteous.”

The proud, those who trust in their own strength, wealth, or armies (rather than God’s covenant), “their spirit is not right in them.”

That’s those who say things like:

• “We don’t need God; we’ve got this.”
• “If I just do enough, I can manage this pain myself.”

It’s a kind of soul inflation that crowds out dependence on God’s grace and presence in our lives.

But the Lord says, “the righteous live by their faith.” And the Hebrew words in here for live and faith are filled with covenantal implications.

It’s a steadfast trust.

Faith here isn’t belief without evidence. It’s loyalty in the relationship. It’s holding on because you know Who holds you.

God invites us to keep living in His promises, even before we ever see them fulfilled.

But how does God answer the cry of “How long?” once and for all?

Illustration: Rain

I knew of a pastor a while back who told a great story that speaks to this…

He said that he took his baby son on a walk with him around a lake, with his son riding in one of those backpack baby carriers. Everything was great until he felt a few raindrops… then a few more… then before too long, it started to downpour on them.

At that point, halfway around the lake, turning back wouldn’t have gotten him back any faster than just pushing through the storm. But soon, his son’s whole experience was the storm, the thunder, and the rain. So he’s crying uncontrollably. From his perspective, he doesn’t know where they’re at, how long this will last… all he knew was the storm.

So the dad takes him out of the backpack carrier and holds him close to his chest to try to protect him from the rain as much as he can. But still, there’s no stopping it from coming down on them.

He says this about the experience, “I kept whispering ‘It’s okay, buddy. I’m right here. You’re gonna be fine.’ But he couldn’t understand my words. He only felt the storm.”

The dad finishes the story by saying that he imagines his kid in therapy years later struggling to deal with the trauma of “the rain hike around the lake,” wondering how his dad could let him go through that. But from the dad’s experience, he cherishes that moment as a time when he got to hold his child close and tell him that everything is going to be okay.

That, to me, feels a little like Habakkuk’s lament… Like a child crying to a Father who seems silent but is actually holding him close.

Here’s the really good news for us… In Jesus, God didn’t stay distant, shouting from the sky. He came into the rain with us… to walk with us and let us know that everything is going to be okay.

The Road to Jesus: Christ as God’s Faithfulness

And Habakkuk points us toward that Gospel fulfillment.

Israel longed for justice. They cried, “How long, O Lord?” and God’s answer wasn’t an idea… It was a person.

In Jesus, God didn’t just send a message of righteousness… He became our righteousness.

The Lord says here in Habakkuk’s vision, “the righteous live by faith.” (An idea that Paul hangs on in many of his writings in the New Testament.)

Jesus is that Righteous One, living the life of perfect trust we could not, and dying to bring us back to the faithfulness of God.

On the Cross, Jesus prays another “How long?”… “My God, why have you forsaken Me?”… entering our lament fully, feeling the silence of heaven that Habakkuk only glimpsed.

But the story doesn’t end in silence. The Resurrection is God’s answer to every “How long?”… the proof that the vision did not tarry forever.

Through Christ, the waiting heart finds hope again. The weight Habakkuk felt is the same one Jesus lifted on the cross.

Living in the Tension: Faith Today

Today, we live in the tension between “How long?” and “It is finished.”

So we need to remember that faithfulness isn’t pretending the storm isn’t real. It’s trusting the One who holds you in it.

As we remember All Souls tonight, we grieve, but not without hope. Those we name today are held in the arms of the One who conquered death.

But lament isn’t only about those we’ve lost. It’s also…

• the quiet ache of parents praying for a child who’s drifted,
• the fear that comes with a doctor’s report,
• the exhaustion of trying to stay faithful in a world that feels unsteady.

Wherever that pain lives in you today, remember this: even there, Christ is present. He has entered our sorrow, and He will raise us up.

Because even in lament, we stand in the watchpost and proclaim resurrection.

Closing / Pastoral Benediction

When the world feels paralyzed and God seems silent, remember Habakkuk’s cry and Christ’s cross.

The righteous live by faith because the Faithful One lives in us.

And when the rain falls, may you hear Him whisper: ‘I’m right here. You’re gonna be fine.’

Amen.