Its appointed time… a meditation on Habakkuk & God’s wonderous ways

“…the vision is for its appointed time…” 
--Habakkuk 2:3

“Pestilence goes before Him

and Plague follows close behind.” Habakkuk 3:5

Its appointed time.  I like that.  The assurance that there is an appointed time and that what is to be revealed will be revealed when God wills it. There is great assurance in that phrase, even if it also feels a little like a warning.  There is a vision, and it has an appointed time.  That implies someone to view that vision (a prophet) and a time to reveal that vision to the world (a prophetic moment).  This very short book feels like a miniature Job.  It is 3 chapters long, and begins with the prophet demanding answers from God:

How long am I to cry for help while you will not listen?...
Why do you countenance oppression?... contention and
discord flourish… the law loses its grip… the wicked
outwit the upright and justice comes out perverted!” (1:1-4)

Followed by an enigmatic response from the Lord that includes a fearsome vision of destruction, pestilence and plague, and then almost abruptly, the prophet’s demands fade and we hear one of the most beautiful psalms in all of scripture.

As with Job—it is that strange, enigmatic (and somewhat frightening) vision of God’s glory that leaves me pondering. In both books, the vision God reveals is so awesome it seems frightening. God tells Habakkuk that He is about to do something “which you will not believe.” The Lord is stirring up the Chaldeans “that fierce and fiery nation”(1:6) to come and seize Jerusalem; they with their horses fast as leopards and fiercer than wolves at night (1:8) will come with their nets to scoop up their prisoners and drag them away to be devoured. 

What are we to make of a God who promises to stir up our enemies against us?  That is one of the questions Habakkuk wants God to answer.  Yes, Jerusalem has grown corrupt, her leaders become oppressors, and her merchants have begun cheating the poor and the vulnerable, but what about those poor and vulnerable, the innocent and the faithful? Won’t they too be gathered up in the Chaldean net like so many fish in a dragnet?  Won’t they suffer, too? Is that justice? Is that love?  In desperation, the prophet cries out: Even in Your wrath, remember mercy! (3:2).

And here I am 2700 years later, morning coffee and Covid mask easily within reach; pleading for the same thing. Contemplating going back to my library and classrooms, fearful of stepping outside the cocoon of “isolation” and distancing, I too want to cry out:  Remember mercy, Oh Lord. Like the prophet, I too am wondering what God is up too.  Because things don’t look fair, the world doesn’t seem just.  The enemy is at the gate and they’ve brought their nets!  Every day there are new totals of the sick and the dead.  Everyday there is some new opinion from someone about what should be done and an oped piece telling us why the experts are wrong! I read headlines about people or companies getting rich off the pandemic. And about people and families losing their jobs and homes. And political leaders claiming they can’t do anything to help.  The world feels like it is falling apart.  And though here at my house, we have plenty of toilet paper, plenty of coffee, peanut butter and refried beans in abundance, I fear my resources are waning. My sense of security falters, my hopefulness wavers, my goodwill fades under the constant sense of dread and anxiety fueled by the endless cycle of bad news: the virus, the politicians, the economy, and on top of that it is Summer in Houston!!  Aaargh!  Please, God! Remember mercy! And while Your at it, could send us some rain?

But then we come to that strangely beautiful ending:

“Though the fig tree blossom not

nor fruit be on the vines,

though the olive crop fail

and the fields yield no food;

though the sheep disappear from the fold

and no cattle in the stalls,

Yet will I rejoice in the Lord,

and exult in my God, my savior.” (3: 17-18)

Even when everything is against him, when there is nothing left to celebrate or rejoice in, the prophet says: Still I will rejoice in the Lord.

And the more I contemplate this powerful little book, the more I sense that is the real lesson of not only this prophet, but perhaps all the prophets. Rejoice in the Lord, even when things look bad, even when the world is falling apart, even when you have nothing left in the cupboard and the enemy is at the gate and he’s brought his friends: plague and pestilence with him… Yet will I rejoice in the Lord.

Perhaps the lesson is also a lesson of perspective.  How are you going to look at the difficulties in your life? What will you learn from them? Will they teach you despair? Will they teach you cruelty? Defensiveness? Selfishness? Or will you learn patience and endurance? Or will you let them teach you something even better: humility and faith?

It isn’t easy, but I am going to try and learn to praise God even when my stalls are empty and my fields are barren.  Even when the Instacart person brings me the wrong ice-cream! And it’s half melted!! I am going to try and learn to rejoice in the Lord…

And it all goes back to that “appointed time.” The assurance that God is in charge, and that there is a plan, an appointed time when all will be revealed and all will be made clear and beautifully, mercifully, better than anything we could imagine.  The vision will be revealed in “its appointed time.” And until then we have a practice we need to work on: gratitude, patience, humility, faith. Even when things look their worst, we rejoice in the Lord. Not because we are blind to the suffering, but because we are –each and every one of us—candles lit with the flame of God, called to set the world on fire! And so we rejoice in the Lord, exult in our savior.  That is how we share the light we’ve been given to share. Because that is what we were made for.

Read Habakkuk –you can finish the whole thing in less than 15 minutes. And then, take a little time to let the words seep down into your soul. You may find this ancient little work sticks with you, haunts you for days, weeks, after. Heck, it may even change your life.