Commentary - Habakkuk 1:1-4

Bird's-eye view

The book of Habakkuk opens not with a word from God to the people, but with a word from a prophet to God. It is a complaint, a lament, a man of God wrestling with God Himself. Habakkuk is distressed by the state of Judah. He sees violence, injustice, and a complete disregard for God's law, and he cannot reconcile this with the holy character of the God he serves. This is the classic problem of evil, but it is not posed by a detached philosopher in an armchair. This is the cry of a man in the thick of it, whose soul is vexed by the rampant sin of his own people. The prophet's complaint sets the stage for God's staggering answer, which will form the central dilemma of the book: God's use of a wicked nation to judge His own covenant people. This opening section is therefore the necessary first half of a divine dialogue, a dialogue that will ultimately lead the prophet from a place of confusion and distress to a settled and triumphant faith in the sovereign purposes of God.

Habakkuk's problem is not that he doubts God's existence or power, but rather that he believes in it so fiercely that the current state of affairs makes no sense. He is bringing his confusion to the only one who can answer. This is a model for believers in every age. We are not to pretend that we don't see the wickedness of the world, nor are we to descend into faithless despair. We are to take our complaints, our "how longs," directly to the throne of grace, expecting an answer. And as Habakkuk will learn, the answer God gives might be more unsettling than the problem, but it will always be righteous and just, designed to bring about His glory and the good of His people.

Outline

Context In Habakkuk

The prophecy of Habakkuk is situated in the final, turbulent years of the kingdom of Judah, just before the Babylonian invasion. The prophet was a contemporary of Jeremiah, living in a time of deep moral and spiritual decay. The reforms of the good king Josiah had faded from memory, and the nation had plunged back into idolatry and injustice under wicked kings like Jehoiakim. It is this internal corruption that serves as the backdrop for Habakkuk's first complaint. He is not looking at the sins of a foreign nation, but at the apostasy of his own people, the people of the covenant.

This book is structured as a dialogue, a divine tutorial for a perplexed prophet. The first section (1:1-4) is Habakkuk's initial cry. He lays out the problem as he sees it: God's law is being flouted within Judah, and God appears to be silent and inactive. This sets up God's shocking reply that He is indeed at work, preparing to use the even more wicked Babylonians as His instrument of judgment. This, in turn, will lead to Habakkuk's second, deeper complaint. But it all begins here, with an honest and pained assessment of the spiritual state of God's own people.

Verse by Verse Commentary

1 The oracle which Habakkuk the prophet beheld.

The prophecy is introduced as an "oracle," or more literally, a "burden." This is not a light or trivial matter. The word suggests a heavy weight, a message of great import that has been laid upon the prophet by God. Habakkuk did not seek this out; it was given to him. He "beheld" it, which tells us this is a matter of divine revelation, a vision. He is a "prophet," a spokesman for God, and what he is about to say, even his complaint, is part of the inspired record. The weight he feels is not just the sin of his nation, but the burden of carrying God's perspective on it. This is a holy complaint, a lament brought within the bounds of covenant faithfulness.

2 How long, O Yahweh, will I call for help, And You will not hear? I cry out to You, “Violence!” Yet You do not save.

Here the prophet gets right to the heart of his anguish. He addresses God by His covenant name, Yahweh, the God who has promised to be with His people. The question "How long?" is a classic feature of biblical lament (see Psalm 13:1). It is the cry of faith under pressure. Habakkuk has been praying, calling for help, but from his vantage point, heaven is silent. He feels unheard. This is not the petulance of a spoiled child, but the deep pain of a faithful servant who sees God's name and honor being dragged through the mud by the behavior of His own people. He cries out about "Violence!", the Hebrew word is hamas, which encompasses not just physical violence but all manner of social injustice, corruption, and oppression. He sees it, he names it, he brings it before God, and yet, perplexingly, God does not "save" or intervene. The apparent divine inaction in the face of blatant evil is the core of his struggle.

3 Why do You make me see wickedness And cause me to look on trouble? Indeed, devastation and violence are before me; And there is strife, and contention is lifted up.

The prophet's question deepens. He asks "Why?" He understands that his sight is a gift from God. God has opened his eyes to see the spiritual reality of the nation, but this gift has become a source of torment. "Why do You make me see" this? It is a paradox of the prophetic office; to see as God sees is to be filled with grief. He is not a detached observer. The trouble is not at a distance; it is "before me." He is surrounded by it. He lists the symptoms of this societal disease: devastation, violence, strife, and contention. The social fabric is tearing apart. The nation is consumed with internal conflict. This is not just a few bad actors; it is a pervasive culture of sin. Habakkuk feels trapped in a world where God's standards are openly defied, and he rightly traces his awareness of this horror back to God Himself.

4 Therefore the law is ignored, And justice never comes forth. For the wicked surround the righteous; Therefore justice comes forth perverted.

This is the logical conclusion, the result of the sin he has just described. "Therefore" points to the consequence. God's law, the Torah, which was meant to be the foundation of their national life, is "ignored." The Hebrew word means it is numb, paralyzed, without effect. Because the standard is gone, "justice never comes forth." The entire legal and social system has broken down. The reason for this breakdown is that "the wicked surround the righteous." The godly are a beleaguered minority, hemmed in on every side by the ungodly. In such an environment, any attempt at true justice is doomed. When it does manage to "come forth," it is "perverted." It is twisted, bent, and unrecognizable. The very system designed to protect the innocent and punish the guilty has become a tool of oppression in the hands of the wicked. Habakkuk sees a nation in total moral collapse, and his complaint to God is that the righteous Judge of all the earth appears to be doing nothing about it.

Application

Habakkuk's cry is a perennial one. We live in a world that is groaning, and we often find ourselves asking, "How long, O Lord?" We see wickedness that is not only tolerated but celebrated. We see justice perverted in our courts and our culture. The temptation is either to become cynical and despairing, or to become so accustomed to the sin that we no longer see it as a burden. Habakkuk shows us a better way. He takes his grief and confusion and turns it into prayer. He argues with God, but he does so on the basis of God's own character and promises. He does not abandon faith; he engages it.

We must learn to lament like Habakkuk. We must allow ourselves to be vexed by the sin we see, both in the world and in the Church. And we must bring that vexation to God in honest, believing prayer. We must not be afraid to ask the hard questions. But we must also be prepared for the answer. God is never inactive, and His plans are always righteous, even when they are inscrutable to us. Like Habakkuk, our honest complaints can be the gateway to a deeper understanding of God's sovereignty and a more robust faith. The problem of evil is only a problem for the one who believes in a good and all-powerful God. The atheist has no such problem, because for him, there is no such thing as evil; things just are. Our struggle with evil is itself a testimony to the fact that we are made in God's image. The answer is not to stop asking the question, but to keep asking it of the only One who can bear its weight and provide the final answer at the cross and in the resurrection.