A Year Held in His Hands| A New Year Sermon
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Alright, so let’s talk about Habakkuk. Yeah, I know—it’s not one of those Bible books we tend to quote every day, right? You don’t see too many Instagram posts that say “#Inspired by Habakkuk.” But hey, maybe we should! Because once you dig in, this short little book packs a pretty heavy punch. It’s raw. It’s real. And it’s refreshingly honest. Habakkuk doesn’t sugarcoat anything, and honestly, that’s one of the reasons I love it.
Before we dive too deep, let’s set the stage a bit…
So here’s the deal: we don’t know much about the guy. Really. Unlike Isaiah or Jeremiah, Habakkuk doesn’t come with a big intro story. He just kind of shows up. No family lineage. No epic call story. Just a prophet with some serious questions—and, if I’m honest, some of the same questions I’ve asked too.
He probably lived around the late 7th century BC, just before Babylon (aka the Chaldeans) came and took Judah into captivity. That makes him a contemporary of Jeremiah, maybe even Nahum or Zephaniah. This was a dark, stormy time in Judah’s history—spiritual corruption, injustice everywhere, and the looming threat of Babylon knocking on the door. Sound a little familiar? Yeah. That’s why Habakkuk still hits home.
It’s a short book. Just three chapters. But don’t let that fool you.
Chapter 1 is full of complaints.
Chapter 2 is God’s response—strong and unapologetic.
Chapter 3? It’s this beautiful, poetic prayer of faith.
So really, the book is a dialogue. It's almost like eavesdropping on a deep conversation between Habakkuk and God. And spoiler alert: it starts messy but ends with praise. That’s real life, y’all.
Okay, let’s be honest here. Habakkuk starts the book by basically crying out, “God, why are You letting all this evil happen? I’m praying and praying, and You’re just… silent.” Sound familiar? It’s that age-old question—why does God allow injustice? Why do the wicked seem to prosper while the righteous suffer?
Here’s what Habakkuk says in chapter 1:
“How long, O Lord, must I call for help, but you do not listen? Or cry out to you, ‘Violence!’ but you do not save?” (Habakkuk 1:2)
Man, that hits hard. I mean, how many of us have whispered that prayer in the middle of the night?
And God’s answer? Not what Habakkuk expected. God says He’s raising up the Babylonians to bring judgment on Judah. Wait… what? The Babylonians? They're worse! They’re violent, cruel, full of pride—and yet God’s using them?
That really messes with Habakkuk’s head. And honestly, it messes with mine too sometimes.
This is where the rubber meets the road. Habakkuk’s struggling with God’s sense of justice. How can a holy God use an even more wicked nation to punish His people? It just doesn’t make sense. So Habakkuk pushes back again. He doesn’t just accept the answer. Nope. He climbs up to his watchtower and waits for a reply (Habakkuk 2:1). Bold move.
But here’s the cool thing—God does respond.
In chapter 2, God tells Habakkuk to “write the vision; make it plain on tablets.” (Habakkuk 2:2) Because this isn’t just for Habakkuk—it’s for all of us. This vision is bigger than one man. It’s a message of both warning and hope.
Habakkuk 2:4 is a game-changer. It’s quoted in Romans, Galatians, and Hebrews, and it’s central to Christian theology:
“But the righteous shall live by his faith.”
Not by circumstances. Not by sight. Not by politics. By faith.
This verse became the backbone of the Protestant Reformation, believe it or not. Martin Luther wrestled with this very phrase, and it sparked a revival. Wild, right? A little prophet tucked away in the Old Testament ends up lighting a fire centuries later.
But even in its original context, it’s so powerful. Habakkuk is being told—yeah, the Babylonians are coming. Yeah, the world’s about to fall apart. But the righteous? They’ll live by faith. Not comfort. Not certainty. Just faith in a God who sees the end from the beginning.
The rest of chapter 2 is God’s declaration of justice. It’s like a divine courtroom scene. God pronounces five woes against Babylon (and really, anyone who acts like Babylon):
Woe to the greedy – those who build empires through extortion.
Woe to the violent – those who build cities with bloodshed.
Woe to the corrupt – those who exploit others for their own gain.
Woe to the shameless – those who glorify sin and shame others.
Woe to the idolaters – those who worship things instead of God.
Each woe is a warning. Evil may seem to win for a while, but its time is limited. God’s justice may feel delayed, but it is never denied.
One verse that just sticks with me is Habakkuk 2:14:
“For the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea.”
That’s the endgame. That’s what we’re waiting for. Not just judgment, but glory. Not just punishment for evil, but restoration for the world. God hasn’t forgotten.
Chapter 3 is beautiful. Honestly, it’s like a Psalm dropped into the middle of the prophets. Habakkuk shifts from protest to praise. But it’s not blind optimism. It’s gritty, grounded faith.
He looks back at how God delivered Israel in the past—through plagues, earthquakes, parting seas—and he uses that memory to strengthen his faith for the future.
One of the most powerful lines in the entire Bible is right here:
“Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines… yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation.” (Habakkuk 3:17–18)
Whew. That’s some mature faith. That’s not “God, bless me and I’ll praise You.” That’s “Even if everything falls apart, I will still rejoice.”
It’s faith that stands when everything else falls.
Let’s be real—our world today isn’t so different from Habakkuk’s. There’s violence, injustice, corruption, confusion. We cry out, and sometimes it feels like God’s just… quiet. Like He’s not doing anything.
But this book reminds us that God is always at work, even when we can’t see it. His timing might not be ours. His methods might not make sense. But His character? It’s rock solid.
Habakkuk teaches us that it’s okay to question. It’s okay to wrestle. But at the end of the day, we’re called to trust.
Not because life is easy.
But because God is faithful.
One of the most beautiful things about Habakkuk is his honesty. He didn’t bottle up his doubts. He didn’t pretend to have it all figured out. He went to God with his mess, and guess what? God met him there.
Too many of us feel like we can’t bring our raw emotions to God. Like we need to clean ourselves up first. But Habakkuk shows us that God welcomes our questions. He’s not afraid of our pain. He’s not offended by our confusion.
He’d rather have an honest conversation than a fake praise song.
So next time you’re feeling overwhelmed, like the world is falling apart or like God is just taking His sweet time—read Habakkuk. Read it slow. Sit with it. Pray through it. Let it remind you that faith isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about trusting the One who does.
Let me wrap it up with some bullet points (because who doesn’t love a good summary?):
Habakkuk is brutally honest—he questions God, and that’s okay.
God responds—He may not give the answer we want, but He gives us truth.
Faith is key—“The righteous shall live by his faith” is more than a verse—it’s a way of life.
God’s justice will come—evil has an expiration date.
Praise is possible—even in the middle of chaos, we can still rejoice.
The story doesn’t end with questions—it ends with worship.
If you’ve never spent much time in Habakkuk, now’s your chance. It won’t take long to read—just three chapters—but I guarantee it’ll challenge you in ways you didn’t expect.
It’ll stretch your faith. It’ll shake your assumptions. But most of all, it’ll point you to a God who is just, even when life feels anything but fair.
And maybe, just maybe, you’ll walk away echoing Habakkuk’s words…
“The Sovereign Lord is my strength; He makes my feet like the feet of a deer, He enables me to tread on the heights.” (Habakkuk 3:19)
Amen to that.
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