SERMON MANUSCRIPT
Is God just? Does he constantly, perfectly, impartially, and eternally do what is right? Is he just?
We’re supposed to say “yes,” aren’t we? After all, it was God’s justice to which Abraham appealed when interceding for the godly in Sodom. “Shall not the Judge of all the earth deal justly?” (Gen. 18:25). Of course he shall! Moses sang of the Lord, “His work is perfect, for all his ways are just” (Deut. 32:4). The Psalms celebrate a God who “loves righteousness and justice” (33:5).
The Bible is clear: God is just. And that should settle it for God’s people. But sometimes life happens, doesn’t it, making us ask, “But is he, though?”
That’s what happened to Job. Job lost everything—his wealth and health, family and friends. And he was confused: “Behold, I cry, ‘Violence!’” he said, “but I get no answer; I shout for help, but there is no justice” (19:7). Similarly, Asaph looked around the world and saw wicked people winning, and admits, [Ps. 73:3–4].
We’ve all experienced this too, if not personally then vicariously. We’ve watched greed succeed, malice be celebrated, selfishness be admired, idolatry go unpunished, and blasphemy be cheered. We’ve felt the plight of the righteous and seen the victories of evil and thought to ourselves, “I know God is just. But is he, though?”
That’s exactly the question God’s people were asking when Malachi came knocking on their post-exilic doors. “Is God just? We’re supposed to say, ‘yes,’ aren’t we? But look at our pathetic lives and look at the sweet lives of the neighbouring nations who hate God! How do we make sense of that?” [2:17]
Earlier Malachi challenged Israel for doubting God’s love. “How have you loved us?” they asked. We noted then what we need to note now: there are two ways of asking that question: “How have you loved us?” and “How have you loved us?” One is an invitation, the other an accusation. One declares neediness, the other betrays entitlement. One is worship of God, the other is an abomination to God. It all depends on tone and posture.
It’s the same with this question: “Where is the God of justice?” That can be asked desperately, longingly, and hopefully, honouring the God who can and will make things right. But it can also be asked the way Israel was asking it here, with an unbelief that “wearied the Lord.” Listen, our frailty and neediness never wearies God. Sin wearies God. As he had said to Israel before through Isaiah, “You have burdened me with your sins, you have wearied me with your iniquities” (43:24).
God sent Malachi to tell his people that he was frustrated by the evil they were speaking about him: “You have wearied the Lord with your words.” But, hearing this, the people protested because, to them, it seemed they were justified. From where they sat, all they could see was austerity for those who belong to God and prosperity for those who were opposed to him. “How have we wearied [God]?” they ask. “We think it’s the other way around.”
But then God plays back the divine recording, allowing Israel to hear their own blasphemous unbelief: “Everyone who does evil is good in the sight of the Lord, and he delights in them” (2:17).
The Israelites knew what Isaiah had said—“Woe to those who call evil good, and good evil” (Isa. 5:20)—and they’re applying those words to God. “God is calling evil good and good evil. God is mixing things up. God is blessing the bad guys and cursing the good guys. Woe to him!” The question, “Where is the God of justice?” is almost atheistic. “Does God even exist if this is the world he’s supposedly managing?” God is just. But is he, though?
In his famous memoir, Night, Holocaust survivor, Elie Wiesel recounts the horrific hanging of three Jewish prisoners, two adults and one child, an execution all in the concentration camp were made to watch. As the nooses were placed around their necks, Wiesel remembers a man in the crowd behind him ask, “Where is merciful God, where is he?” The chairs were tipped over and the spectators were then made to march past the bodies, where the same voice as before was heard, “For God’s sake, where is God?”
God is just. But is he, though? We raised our children in the church, but they’ve left the faith. Where is God? I was faithful but my spouse wasn’t. Where’s God? My scary diagnosis, my declining health, my constant discouragement, my frustrated career path, my perpetual and unwanted singleness, my loneliness, my grief, and my unanswered prayers. Where is he? I’ve loved him and served him and shared him—not perfectly but sincerely. Why is he not reciprocating?
Meanwhile, pagans sit in seats of power, idolators are billionaires, and atheistic tyrants with insatiable appetites for self-glory are invading and killing without opposition. My neighbour, who “hates all religion” just retired at 43, my dishonest coworker was just given the promotion I deserve, and my friend who spits at the name of the Jesus Christ is living happily ever after. For God’s sake, where is God? “Where is the God of justice?”
We’ve all wrestled with this question. We see and feel injustice and, because we’re made in the image of God and long for justice, we’re confused, angered, and frustrated. But how do we do that and not sin? How do we avoid Israel’s mistake at the end of Malachi 2? How do we ask that question as an act of worship and not unbelief?
God wanted to help Israel do just that, and he does so by offering a correction, reminding his people of the sometimes discouraging but always comforting truth that justice delayed is not justice denied. [3:1]
“You’re wearying me, my people.” “How so?” “Because you’re accusing me of sin. You’re doubting my righteousness, faithfulness, and justice because you’ve lost sight of what’s coming, what’s inevitable and inescapable. The fallenness of this world and the hardness of your hearts has made you forget what I promised. ‘I am going to send my messenger, and he will clear the way before me.’ Isaiah told you about him: ‘A voice is calling, “Clear the way for the Lord in the wilderness; make smooth in the desert a highway for our God”’ (Isa. 40:3).
“Soon I will send someone to get you ready for me. Following on his heels, ‘the Lord, whom you seek [the one you’re waiting for to bring justice], will suddenly come to his temple.’” Remember, it was in the temple where God’s people used to draw near to God’s presence. So, they ask, “Where is the God of justice?” and the God of justice responds, “Oh, I’m here and I’m coming there.
“And while your priests may have ‘profaned the covenant of our fathers’ (2:10), when my messenger comes, and I with him, so too comes ‘the messenger of the covenant,’” a new covenant you will not profane, a new covenant you will not break, a new covenant that will tether your hearts perfectly and eternally to mine.”
Justice is coming. Righteousness is coming. Wholeness is coming. Judgement is coming. And, when it does, it will universally, devastatingly, and gloriously make all things right. [3:2] That day won’t be a light wash, a rinsing, or a tidying up. No, when the God of justice comes, he brings the deep clean. He brings the fire of purification that melts away all impurities. [3:3–4] Notice the purpose of this Day—it’s not judgement for judgement’s sake but for fellowship’s sake: “so that they may present to the Lord offerings in righteousness.”
[3:5] It seemed to God’s people like the wicked were winning, that God was blessing those who hated him which meant that either he wasn’t all-knowing, or he was and he wasn’t all-powerful to stop it, or he saw it, could do something, but didn’t care, which meant he wasn’t all-good. But here God responds: “I see it all—from calloused to the liars, from the cheats to the proud—and I can do something about it. And I will do something about it. Justice delayed is not justice denied. It’s coming and it will be total, effectual, and final.”
The people sinfully asked the question, “Where is the God of justice?” And the God of justice gives a correction, “I’m here and I’m soon coming there. Don’t doubt my justice!”
And the same admonition comes from God to you and me. “Be it resolved: don’t doubt my justice! You may look around your life and see evidence of sin, fallenness, and brokenness. You will look around this world and see the same—evil thriving, wickedness winning, righteousness stifled and punished.”
Go ahead and ask the question, “For God’s sake, where is God?” but ask it with faith, longing, and hope, trusting that he keeps his word and that he will bring to pass what he’s promised; that justice delayed is not justice denied. Be it resolved: we will not doubt God’s justice!
In closing, I want to suggest four ways that general resolution may get specific in your life and mine. What might it look like for you and me to not doubt God’s justice, even as we live in a world marked by injustice?
For some, you may say this: “I will not doubt God’s justice but will seek shelter from it.” If you’re not a Christian, please hear that judgement is coming, a judgement we all deserve for our sin. Centuries after Malachi said the words we read today, [John 1:6–8]. “John the Baptist came preaching in the wilderness. … the one referred to by Isaiah the prophet [and Malachi]” (Matt. 1:1, 3).
And, on his heels, Jesus Christ, God himself wrapped in humanity. At his first coming, Jesus didn’t bring judgment but forgiveness. He was the “lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world,” the messenger of the covenant and the sacrifice that ratified that covenant. Judgement for sin has been delayed, but not denied. It is coming. But in Christ Jesus we can have shelter. You can have shelter. [John 3:16, gospel] I pray that today you say in your heart, “I will not doubt God’s justice but I will seek shelter from it.”
Others may say this: “I will not doubt God’s justice but will look forward to it.” When you feel the pangs of evil in this world, when you see the unfairness of sin, use those frustrations as rocket fuel, not for doubt and unbelief but for the longing for the absolute freedom that’s coming, the perfect justice that’s been promised.
Satan will be gone, the flesh will be remedied, the world will be renewed. There will come a day when the words recorded in Revelation will be said in realtime: [Rev. 21:3–5a] Look forward to that inevitability, brothers and sisters! As we’ve sang a few times together in the past, “When Christ our life appears, our hope will be complete / Our longings finally rest as we fall at His feet / When Jesus comes to reign, restoring everything / Our tears will turn to tides of praises to our King / We’re longing for that day when we’ll see / Christ, our Savior / We’ll behold the glory of our King forever / Christ, our Savior / Faith will turn to sight when Christ our life appears.” I will not doubt God’s justice but will look forward to it.
Still others should be prompted to say, “I will not doubt God’s justice but will work hard because of it.” Discouragement and injustice can immobilize God’s people. Israel, in Malachi’s time, were shrugging their shoulders. “Where’s God and what’s the point? Why give our lives to him when those who don’t seem to thrive?”
But because we know justice is coming, we need not be discouraged. In fact, we can work hard for him, knowing that his victory is unavoidable and ours with him. This is Paul’s point in 1 Corinthians 15, a chapter devoted to the resurrection and the death of death. Because this justice is sure, Paul says, “be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your toil is not in vain in the Lord” (1 Cor. 15:58). God will take care of the injustice, even the injustice I’m feeling and experiencing. I know that. I can leave that with him, “vengeance is his, he will repay.” That frees me up to just serve him. I will not doubt God’s justice but I will work hard because of it.
Finally, we should all say, “I will not doubt God’s justice but will praise him while I wait for it.” God is just and the full integration of that justice is soon coming to a world near you. He’s provided shelter from it, invited us to look forward to it and work hard because of it. Why would we not praise him while we wait for it?
Let’s do that together now in prayer and song. Let’s bow together.
Josiah has served the Oakridge Bible Chapel family as one of its elders and one of its pastoral staff members since September 2018, before which he ministered as an associate pastor to a local congregation in the Canadian prairies. Josiah's desire is to be used by God to help equip the church for ministry, both while gathered (edification) and while scattered (evangelization). He is married to Patricia, and together they have five children—Jonah, Henry, Nathaniel, Josephine, and Benjamin.
