Study Desk

Don't, enemy, crow over me. I'm down, but I'm not out. I'm sitting in the dark right now, but God is my light. I can take God 's punishing rage. I deserve it—I sinned. But it's not forever. He's on my side and is going to get me out of this. He'll turn on the lights and show me his ways. I'll see the whole picture and how right he is. And my enemy will see it, too, and be discredited—yes, disgraced! This enemy who kept taunting, "So where is this God of yours?" I'm going to see it with these, my own eyes— my enemy disgraced, trash in the gutter.

Shepherd, O God , your people with your staff, your dear and precious flock. Uniquely yours in a grove of trees, centered in lotus land. Let them graze in lush Bashan as in the old days in green Gilead. Reproduce the miracle-wonders of our exodus from Egypt. And the godless nations: Put them in their place— humiliated in their arrogance, speechless and clueless. Make them slink like snakes, crawl like cockroaches, come out of their holes from under their rocks And face our God . Fill them with holy fear and trembling.

Where is the god who can compare with you— wiping the slate clean of guilt, Turning a blind eye, a deaf ear, to the past sins of your purged and precious people? You don't nurse your anger and don't stay angry long, for mercy is your specialty. That's what you love most. And compassion is on its way to us. You'll stamp out our wrongdoing. You'll sink our sins to the bottom of the ocean. You'll stay true to your word to Father Jacob and continue the compassion you showed Grandfather Abraham— Everything you promised our ancestors from a long time ago.

A report on the problem of Nineveh, the way God gave Nahum of Elkosh to see it:

God is serious business. He won't be trifled with. He avenges his foes. He stands up against his enemies, fierce and raging. But God doesn't lose his temper. He's powerful, but it's a patient power. Still, no one gets by with anything. Sooner or later, everyone pays. Tornadoes and hurricanes are the wake of his passage, Storm clouds are the dust he shakes off his feet. He yells at the sea: It dries up. All the rivers run dry. The Bashan and Carmel mountains shrivel, the Lebanon orchards shrivel. Mountains quake in their roots, hills dissolve into mud flats. Earth shakes in fear of God . The whole world's in a panic. Who can face such towering anger? Who can stand up to this fierce rage? His anger spills out like a river of lava, his fury shatters boulders.

God is good, a hiding place in tough times. He recognizes and welcomes anyone looking for help, No matter how desperate the trouble. But cozy islands of escape He wipes right off the map. No one gets away from God. Why waste time conniving against God ? He's putting an end to all such scheming. For troublemakers, no second chances. Like a pile of dry brush, Soaked in oil, they'll go up in flames.

Nineveh's an anthill of evil plots against God , A think tank for lies that seduce and betray.

And God has something to say about all this: "Even though you're on top of the world, With all the applause and all the votes, you'll be mowed down flat. "I've afflicted you, Judah, true, but I won't afflict you again. From now on I'm taking the yoke from your neck and splitting it up for kindling. I'm cutting you free from the ropes of your bondage."

God 's orders on Nineveh: "You're the end of the line. It's all over with Nineveh. I'm gutting your temple. Your gods and goddesses go in the trash. I'm digging your grave. It's an unmarked grave. You're nothing—no, you're less than nothing!"

Look! Striding across the mountains— a messenger bringing the latest good news: peace! A holiday, Judah! Celebrate! Worship and recommit to God! No more worries about this enemy. This one is history. Close the books.

God has restored the Pride of Jacob, the Pride of Israel. Israel's lived through hard times. He's been to hell and back.

"Assyria, I'm your enemy," says God -of-the-Angel-Armies. "I'll torch your chariots. They'll go up in smoke. ‘Lion Country' will be strewn with carcasses. The war business is over—you're out of work: You'll have no more wars to report, No more victories to announce. You're out of war work forever."

"I'm your enemy, Whore Nineveh— I, God -of-the-Angel-Armies! I'll strip you of your seductive silk robes and expose you on the world stage. I'll let the nations get their fill of the ugly truth of who you really are and have been all along. I'll pelt you with dog dung and place you on a pedestal: ‘Slut on Exhibit.' Everyone who sees you will gag and say, ‘Nineveh's a pigsty: What on earth did we ever see in her? Who would give her a second look? Ugh!'"

Let the Nations Get Their Fill of the Ugly Truth Doom to Murder City— full of lies, bursting with loot, addicted to violence! Horns blaring, wheels clattering, horses rearing, chariots lurching, Horsemen galloping, brandishing swords and spears, Dead bodies rotting in the street, corpses stacked like cordwood, Bodies in every gutter and alley, clogging every intersection! And whores! Whores without end! Whore City, Fatally seductive, you're the Witch of Seduction, luring nations to their ruin with your evil spells. "I'm your enemy, Whore Nineveh— I, God -of-the-Angel-Armies! I'll strip you of your seductive silk robes and expose you on the world stage. I'll let the nations get their fill of the ugly truth of who you really are and have been all along. I'll pelt you with dog dung and place you on a pedestal: ‘Slut on Exhibit.' Everyone who sees you will gag and say, ‘Nineveh's a pigsty: What on earth did we ever see in her? Who would give her a second look? Ugh!'" Do you think you're superior to Egyptian Thebes, proudly invincible on the River Nile, Protected by the great River, walled in by the River, secure? Ethiopia stood guard to the south, Egypt to the north. Put and Libya, strong friends, were ready to step in and help. But you know what happened to her: The whole city was marched off to a refugee camp, Her babies smashed to death in public view on the streets, Her prize leaders auctioned off, her celebrities put in chain gangs. Expect the same treatment, Nineveh. You'll soon be staggering like a bunch of drunks, Wondering what hit you, looking for a place to sleep it off. All your forts are like peach trees, the lush peaches ripe, ready for the picking. One shake of the tree and they fall straight into hungry mouths. Face it: Your warriors are wimps. You're sitting ducks. Your borders are gaping doors, inviting your enemies in. And who's to stop them? Store up water for the siege. Shore up your defenses. Get down to basics: Work the clay and make bricks. Sorry. Too late. Enemy fire will burn you up. Swords will cut you to pieces. You'll be chewed up as if by locusts. Yes, as if by locusts—a fitting fate, for you yourselves are a locust plague. You've multiplied shops and shopkeepers— more buyers and sellers than stars in the sky! A plague of locusts, cleaning out the neighborhood and then flying off. Your bureaucrats are locusts, your brokers and bankers are locusts. Early on, they're all at your service, full of smiles and promises, But later when you return with questions or complaints, you'll find they've flown off and are nowhere to be found. King of Assyria! Your shepherd-leaders, in charge of caring for your people, Are busy doing everything else but. They're not doing their job, And your people are scattered and lost. There's no one to look after them. You're past the point of no return. Your wound is fatal. When the story of your fate gets out, the whole world will applaud and cry "Encore!" Your cruel evil has seeped into every nook and cranny of the world. Everyone has felt it and suffered.

Let the Nations Get Their Fill of the Ugly Truth Doom to Murder City— full of lies, bursting with loot, addicted to violence! Horns blaring, wheels clattering, horses rearing, chariots lurching, Horsemen galloping, brandishing swords and spears, Dead bodies rotting in the street, corpses stacked like cordwood, Bodies in every gutter and alley, clogging every intersection! And whores! Whores without end! Whore City, Fatally seductive, you're the Witch of Seduction, luring nations to their ruin with your evil spells. "I'm your enemy, Whore Nineveh— I, God -of-the-Angel-Armies! I'll strip you of your seductive silk robes and expose you on the world stage. I'll let the nations get their fill of the ugly truth of who you really are and have been all along. I'll pelt you with dog dung and place you on a pedestal: ‘Slut on Exhibit.' Everyone who sees you will gag and say, ‘Nineveh's a pigsty: What on earth did we ever see in her? Who would give her a second look? Ugh!'" Do you think you're superior to Egyptian Thebes, proudly invincible on the River Nile, Protected by the great River, walled in by the River, secure? Ethiopia stood guard to the south, Egypt to the north. Put and Libya, strong friends, were ready to step in and help. But you know what happened to her: The whole city was marched off to a refugee camp, Her babies smashed to death in public view on the streets, Her prize leaders auctioned off, her celebrities put in chain gangs. Expect the same treatment, Nineveh. You'll soon be staggering like a bunch of drunks, Wondering what hit you, looking for a place to sleep it off. All your forts are like peach trees, the lush peaches ripe, ready for the picking. One shake of the tree and they fall straight into hungry mouths. Face it: Your warriors are wimps. You're sitting ducks. Your borders are gaping doors, inviting your enemies in. And who's to stop them? Store up water for the siege. Shore up your defenses. Get down to basics: Work the clay and make bricks. Sorry. Too late. Enemy fire will burn you up. Swords will cut you to pieces. You'll be chewed up as if by locusts. Yes, as if by locusts—a fitting fate, for you yourselves are a locust plague. You've multiplied shops and shopkeepers— more buyers and sellers than stars in the sky! A plague of locusts, cleaning out the neighborhood and then flying off. Your bureaucrats are locusts, your brokers and bankers are locusts. Early on, they're all at your service, full of smiles and promises, But later when you return with questions or complaints, you'll find they've flown off and are nowhere to be found.

The problem as God gave Habakkuk to see it: God , how long do I have to cry out for help before you listen? How many times do I have to yell, "Help! Murder! Police!" before you come to the rescue? Why do you force me to look at evil, stare trouble in the face day after day? Anarchy and violence break out, quarrels and fights all over the place. Law and order fall to pieces. Justice is a joke. The wicked have the righteous hamstrung and stand justice on its head.

"Look around at the godless nations. Look long and hard. Brace yourself for a shock. Something's about to take place and you're going to find it hard to believe. I'm about to raise up Babylonians to punish you, Babylonians, fierce and ferocious— World-conquering Babylon, grabbing up nations right and left, A dreadful and terrible people, making up its own rules as it goes. Their horses run like the wind, attack like bloodthirsty wolves. A stampede of galloping horses thunders out of nowhere. They descend like vultures circling in on carrion. They're out to kill. Death is on their minds. They collect victims like squirrels gathering nuts. They mock kings, poke fun at generals, Spit on forts, and leave them in the dust. They'll all be blown away by the wind. Brazen in sin, they call strength their god."

God , you're from eternity, aren't you? Holy God, we aren't going to die, are we? God , you chose Babylonians for your judgment work? Rock-Solid God, you gave them the job of discipline? But you can't be serious! You can't condone evil! So why don't you do something about this? Why are you silent now? This outrage! Evil men swallow up the righteous and you stand around and watch!

What's God going to say to my questions? I'm braced for the worst. I'll climb to the lookout tower and scan the horizon. I'll wait to see what God says, how he'll answer my complaint.

And then God answered: "Write this. Write what you see. Write it out in big block letters so that it can be read on the run. This vision-message is a witness pointing to what's coming. It aches for the coming—it can hardly wait! And it doesn't lie. If it seems slow in coming, wait. It's on its way. It will come right on time.