Habakkuk and a Deeper Hunger

For the past couple of weeks, our Sunday afternoon home Bible study has been looking at the book of Habakkuk. After spending most of this year working our way through Paul's letter to the Philippians and the letter of James, we were ready to head back into the Old Testament for a while.

The implications of the book of Habakkuk have been a bit haunting to me; I find my thoughts frequently drifting to the conversation that the prophet had with God. (If you're unfamiliar with the book, it's basically the account of Habakkuk's complaint against God for allowing wickedness and injustice to prevail in Israel. God replies by saying that he's sending an even more wicked people to wipe out Habakkuk's people in response. Habakkuk respectfully questions how that could possibly be considered justice if it results in a greater evil prevailing. God then explains that the wicked invaders will, in turn, face his judgment as well, and Habakkuk comes to grip with the complexity of God's sovereignty, wisdom, and justice.)

As we talked about this conversation last Sunday, it struck me that what Habakkuk was really seeking wasn't what his words were describing. His complaint was about injustice. He longed for God to set things right. But when he heard what that would look like, he cringed away from it.

I wonder how often our own sense of indignity at the injustices of life is really just a smokescreen for a greater desire down in our souls.

I've been in plenty of situations when people have hungered for justice. I've spoken with victims of crime -- from rape to theft to attempted murder -- who desire some sense of closure that they think will come through the justice system. And yet, even while sitting in a courtroom and hearing a verdict of "guilty," they discover that justice doesn't satisfy a deeper, almost unknowable desire.

There have been times in my life where I've been the victim of someone else's sin, and sometimes that has provoked a vengeful desire in me that's manifested itself in the kinds of imprecatory prayers we find throughout the Bible. I've even felt a little bit noble in handing over the offenders to God so that he might pour out whatever justice he sees fit, and then I've tried my best to simply forgive them and let things go (sometimes easier said than done).

But the truth is that I've never really wanted to see justice. I've wanted to see something much more significant.

Think about the Hebrews who were commanded to act as instruments of God's judgment upon the evil paganism of the Canaanites. With swords in hand, they were to walk through the cities of their enemies and slaughter every living thing, right down to the smallest child. God was pouring out his wrath upon the sin of mankind, driving evil from the promised land, and setting a stage from which his chosen people would accurately represent his holiness to the rest of the world. And he wanted his people to be a part of that so they could see firsthand how severe and absolute God's standard of holiness is.

I don't know if I could have done it. Or, if I could have, I'm sure I would have been deeply scarred from the experience. No matter how much anger I feel toward those who abuse and brutalize the innocent, no matter how much I want to see them face justice, I don't actually want to be a part of bringing them harm.

That's because what I want isn't really justice. You see, the deeper longing of my soul -- and the craving at the heart of all victims -- is actually a hunger for a world in which justice is not needed. What we want is the paradise that God originally intended for creation. We want a world where people are not hurt by others, where innocence is protected, where abuse never happens, where locks are not needed, where gossip is never shared, where there is no fear or hurt or anger or sadness. And though justice may be an appropriate response to evil, it doesn't satisfy the deeper desire for paradise.

Because God is just, our own desire for justice is a reflection of his image in us as his creation. But the desire for justice is merely a stepping stone to the desire for grace and purity. I suspect that God takes no pleasure in justice, either. His deeper craving is for mercy and a return to the wondrous intimacy he shared with man in the Garden at the dawn of the world. In fact, everything he's done since man's original rebellion has been focused on redeeming all of creation and restoring paradise for eternity.

God has promised justice in the world. Ultimately, all of creation will face his uncompromising judgment. Yet it is his greater desire for a return to intimacy that delays the inevitable. As Peter has said, "The Lord isn't really being slow about his promise, as some people think. No, he is being patient for your sake. He does not want anyone to be destroyed, but wants everyone to repent." (2 Peter 3:9 NLT)

Praise God for his amazing grace! As Habakkuk sang out his response to God's plans,

"I have heard all about you, Lord. I am filled with awe by your amazing works. In this time of our deep need, help us again as you did in years gone by. And in your anger, remember your mercy." (Habakkuk 3:2 NLT)