THE JUST ONE LIVES BY FAITH
Today, the Word of God meets us in a place we all know well: the tension between faith and frustration. We live in a world where the headlines scream of violence, misery, and destruction. The suffering of our time is so pervasive that no one is exempt. We carry fears we cannot fix, burdens we cannot lift, and questions we cannot answer. Often, all we can do is cry, lament, and wonder if God still listens.
This is precisely the world Habakkuk inhabited. In the first reading, the prophet cries out, "Why do you let me see ruin? Why must I look at misery?" (Hab. 1:3). His ministry unfolded around 600 years before Christ, during a time of geopolitical upheaval. The Assyrian Empire had already crushed the Northern Kingdom of Israel, and the Babylonian Empire were poised to overtake Judah and the Assyrian empire. Habakkuk saw destruction, strife, and discord, and he dared to challenge God: Why allow such catastrophe?
God's response is both unsettling and reassuring. He reveals that the Babylonians will indeed be instruments of judgment. But he also promises that this is not the end of the story. Justice will come. Salvation will not be delayed forever. And then comes the divine declaration: "See, the proud, his soul is not upright in him; but the just one, because of his faith, shall live."
The "just" here is not simply one who pursues social justice, but one who lives with spiritual integrity — a life shaped by trust in God, and obedience to his word. The just person is the one who is faithful and reliant on God, as against the proud who is self-reliant and arrogant. He clings to divine promises even when circumstances are bleak. For the just person, faith becomes the oxygen of the soul, the way he breathes, walks, and hopes.
Like the audience of Habakkuk and Jesus, we are not exempt from this reality. In our own time, we face international threats, national instability, and spiritual confusion. Even our Church is being torn apart by political and media forces that profit from our anger, fear, and division. Our cherished values are under siege in our own community, state, and nation, such as the fundamental dignity of human beings, the neglect of infants and senior citizens.
In today’s Gospel, confronted with a challenge much like ours, the disciples turn to Jesus and plead, “increase our faith.” They do not just ask for more faith in abstract but seek guidance on how to grow it. They say this because they recognize that their faith is insufficient for the radical life Jesus demands. They feel the gap between his call and their capacity.
But Jesus does not answer with a call for more faith by quantity; instead, he points to the quality of faith. He speaks of mustard-seed faith that is very small, often unseen, yet incredibly powerful. The real issue is not that the disciples need more faith. They need to exercise the faith they have, recognizing that it is a gift from God and not something they possess. God's grace will provide where human effort is inadequate or fails.
If we truly want to be victorious, we must act, not just critique. In Luke's Gospel, faith is less about doctrinal assent and more about lived response. It is evident in the actions of real people, for example, the centurion (Luke 7), the bleeding woman, and the grateful Samaritan leper (Luke 17). So, Luke depicts faith as a living trust that acts. What it means is that we need to take steps to develop our faith so that we can withstand the challenges of the godless society in which we find ourselves.
So, to live by faith is not to escape reality; it is to engage it with trust. It is to walk through the valley of unanswered prayers, not with bitterness, but with belief. The just person is not defined by perfection, but by perseverance; not by control, but by confidence in God's character. Let us be those kinds of people. Let us be the "just" who live by faith.